<?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-8665013</id><updated>2011-08-14T17:07:26.679+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fados da Vida</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>189</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2288948602299115767</id><published>2010-02-19T11:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-19T11:08:14.026Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;FOREVER YOUNG &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets dance in style, lets dance for a while&lt;br /&gt;Heaven can wait were only watching the skies&lt;br /&gt;Hoping for the best but expecting the worst&lt;br /&gt;Are you going to drop the bomb or not? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us die young or let us live forever&lt;br /&gt;We dont have the power but we never say never&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip&lt;br /&gt;The musics for the sad men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine when this race is won&lt;br /&gt;Turn our golden faces into the sun&lt;br /&gt;Praising our leaders were getting in tune&lt;br /&gt;The musics played by the madmen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever young, I want to be forever young&lt;br /&gt;Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some are like water, some are like the heat&lt;br /&gt;Some are a melody and some are the beat&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later they all will be gone&lt;br /&gt;Why dont they stay young&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so hard to get old without a cause&lt;br /&gt;I dont want to perish like a fading horse&lt;br /&gt;Youth is like diamonds in the sun&lt;br /&gt;And dimonds are forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many adventures couldnt happen today&lt;br /&gt;So many songs we forgot to play&lt;br /&gt;So many dreams are swinging out of the blue&lt;br /&gt;We let them come true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sempre vivi no limite, sempre a pensar que ir “durar” para sempre, sempre iludido com a facilidade do êxtase da vontade única de sorrir, de passar o dia para o outro seguinte, de seguir a estrada sem pensar nas curvas… e hoje? Sinto que houve tanto que não fiz, tanto que ficou por fazer, tanto tempo perdido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho, temos, no entanto, tanto que fizemos, tantas memórias que a maioria não se pode regozijar de ter. Porque nos perdemos nas tristezas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto saudades vossas, nossas, de todos os tempos que tivemos e de tudo o que fizemos. Saudades estas que não são apenas meras nuances de pensamento, elas são a força que me tem impelido nos últimos tempos a querer ter algo, ser algo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero voltar a ter os tempos de gozo, de riso, de saídas sem rumo ou curvas a direito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que com tempo, não muito, tudo volte “ao mesmo”… a tardes passadas em conjunto, a dias na praia, a noites perdidas na conversa… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não temos como recuperar muito do que podíamos ter feito… ou que eu podia ter feito… mas vou, vamos, a tempo de fazer muito mais…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be, for sure, forever young.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-2288948602299115767?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2288948602299115767/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2288948602299115767' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2288948602299115767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2288948602299115767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2010/02/forever-young-lets-dance-in-style-lets.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-8067789276400708681</id><published>2008-10-18T19:19:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T19:19:43.433+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dr. House&lt;br /&gt;Season 5&lt;br /&gt;Episode 4&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-8067789276400708681?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/8067789276400708681/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=8067789276400708681' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8067789276400708681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8067789276400708681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/10/dr.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-1558609636929168796</id><published>2008-08-06T22:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T22:46:38.877+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Passei toda a noite, sem dormir, vendo, sem espaço, a figura dela,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passei toda a noite, sem dormir, vendo, sem espaço, a figura dela,&lt;br /&gt;E vendo-a sempre de maneiras diferentes do que a encontro a ela.&lt;br /&gt;Faço pensamentos com a recordação do que ela é quando me fala,&lt;br /&gt;E em cada pensamento ela varia de acordo com a sua semelhança.&lt;br /&gt;Amar é pensar.&lt;br /&gt;E eu quase que me esqueço de sentir só de pensar nela.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei bem o que quero, mesmo dela, e eu não penso senão nela.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho uma grande distracção animada.&lt;br /&gt;Quando desejo encontrá-la&lt;br /&gt;Quase que prefiro não a encontrar,&lt;br /&gt;Para não ter que a deixar depois.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei bem o que quero, nem quero saber o que quero. Quero só Pensar nela.&lt;br /&gt;Não peço nada a ninguém, nem a ela, senão pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                          Alberto Caeiro&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-1558609636929168796?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/1558609636929168796/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=1558609636929168796' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1558609636929168796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1558609636929168796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/08/passei-toda-noite-sem-dormir-vendo-sem.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-9112316549748543368</id><published>2008-07-24T13:13:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T13:17:35.892+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Joseph Arthur - My Home Is In Your Head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You want to be free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't act like it's bad &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm already dead &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My home is your head &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're a suicide &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Only out for revenge &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You can't controll my mind &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If I don't believe your're gonna try &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You want to be free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't act like it's bad &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm already dead &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My home is your head &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hey You and me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can't get what we need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-9112316549748543368?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/9112316549748543368/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=9112316549748543368' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/9112316549748543368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/9112316549748543368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/07/joseph-arthur-my-home-is-in-your-head.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-1579927501132648792</id><published>2008-07-09T09:33:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T09:36:15.647+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I Will Not Be Pushed, Filed, Stamped, Numbered, Briefed, Debriefed... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Life is My Own.&lt;/strong&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/8665013-1579927501132648792?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/1579927501132648792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=1579927501132648792' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1579927501132648792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1579927501132648792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-will-not-be-pushed-filed-stamped.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-6221533178301657484</id><published>2008-07-08T16:02:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T16:16:05.699+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/SHOEYVQu4FI/AAAAAAAAAAs/B5cliemO9ds/s1600-h/b1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220661946611589202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/SHOEYVQu4FI/AAAAAAAAAAs/B5cliemO9ds/s320/b1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dá-me as tuas lágrimas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu choro-as por ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come like the dusk&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a rose on the grave of love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are my lust&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a rose on the grave of love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I curse the day I first saw you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like a rose that is born to bloom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't look at me the way you do&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;L&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ike the roses, they fear the gloom&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your thorns, they kissed my blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your beauty heals, your beauty kills&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And who would know better than I do?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pretend you love me!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come like the dusk&lt;br /&gt;Like a rose on the grave of love&lt;br /&gt;You are my lust&lt;br /&gt;Like a rose on the grave of love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Indeed, reality seems far&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;When a rose is in love with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Slaves of our hearts, that's what we are&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We loved and died where roses grew&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;They watched us silently&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A rose is free, a rose is wild&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And who would know better than I do?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Roses are not made for love.&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/8665013-6221533178301657484?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/6221533178301657484/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=6221533178301657484' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6221533178301657484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6221533178301657484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/07/d-me-as-tuas-lgrimas-eu-choro-as-por-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/SHOEYVQu4FI/AAAAAAAAAAs/B5cliemO9ds/s72-c/b1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-3885494714034495370</id><published>2008-07-01T11:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T11:34:28.779+01:00</updated><title type='text'>a eterna insatisfação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.aphotoaday.co.uk/uploads/2007/09/norfolk_boat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.aphotoaday.co.uk/uploads/2007/09/norfolk_boat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;como será que se sente uma folha, envolta em marés vivas?&lt;br /&gt;Quando se habitua ao bater das ondas numa determinada direcção, surge um vento forte, uma vaga, um mudar de direcção, e tudo se transforma de novo, tudo se inverte.&lt;br /&gt;como será que se sente um barco pesqueiro no mar alto do Norte?&lt;br /&gt;Poderoso, imponente, toneladas de ferro, bruto e no entanto, a àgua, leve, transponível, gela-lhe o casco e levanta-o no ar como uma folha de Outono é levada por uma leve brisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como me sinto eu, quando uma leve brisa dói como o rebentar das marés vivas?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso de bom porto, recuperar das gélidas vagas, voltar a ter o fulgor de embarcação capaz de enfrentar as estrelas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aphotoaday.co.uk/uploads/2007/09/norfolk_boat.jp"&gt;&lt;/a&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/8665013-3885494714034495370?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/3885494714034495370/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=3885494714034495370' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3885494714034495370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3885494714034495370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/07/eterna-insatisfao.html' title='a eterna insatisfação'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-4610148521989383324</id><published>2008-01-06T20:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-06T20:13:56.981Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A seta apaixonou-se pelo vento&lt;br /&gt;quis deixar-se levar pela sua força.&lt;br /&gt;Voamos os dois na mesma direcção&lt;br /&gt;mas o vento só vai para onde lhe apetece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A seta apaixonou-se pelo vento&lt;br /&gt;quis deixar-se levar pelo seu talento.&lt;br /&gt;E entramos os dois numa combinação&lt;br /&gt;que tendia para o infinito inequivocamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Não vais ter...&lt;br /&gt;Não vais ter...&lt;br /&gt;...tanto encanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o vento apaixonou-se pela seta&lt;br /&gt;quis deixar-se acompanhar pela coisa concreta,&lt;br /&gt;surgia como justificação,&lt;br /&gt;para a materialidade de um traço no céu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o vento apaixonou-se pela seta,&lt;br /&gt;quis fazer com ela a volta completa.&lt;br /&gt;Mas a seta estava farta de dispersão,&lt;br /&gt;voou para Barcelona e deixou solidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Amanha não vais ter tanto encanto&lt;br /&gt;Não vais ter...&lt;br /&gt;Não vais ter...&lt;br /&gt;...tanto encanto.&lt;br /&gt;...tanto encanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu... serei seta ou vento?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-4610148521989383324?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/4610148521989383324/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=4610148521989383324' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4610148521989383324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4610148521989383324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/01/seta-apaixonou-se-pelo-vento-quis.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-1550496657276569374</id><published>2008-01-04T18:41:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-04T18:41:57.925Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ShcdOnG9cuU&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ShcdOnG9cuU&amp;amp;rel=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&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/8665013-1550496657276569374?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/1550496657276569374/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=1550496657276569374' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1550496657276569374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1550496657276569374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2640190748911844673</id><published>2008-01-04T13:56:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-04T14:01:15.076Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Será possível gostar tanto de alguém que deixamos de ser nós mesmos?&lt;br /&gt;Um dia disseram-me que havia muitos tipos de amor, que existiam muitas formas de amar e que eu iria ser feliz. Mas eu não sei lidar com os sentimentos, não me sei barrar a eles. Sou assim, impulsivo e vivo sempre no extremo do que posso ter.&lt;br /&gt;Quando voltei a gostar, todo o meu corpo, habituado ao recentemente adquirido controlo das emoções, se ressentiu. Toda a minha capacidade de me controlar, de entender, de pensar foi ultrapassada por sentimentos, dúvidas e inconsistências imaginárias.&lt;br /&gt;No meio disto tudo, quem me conhece dizia-me “epa… isso nem parece teu…” e não era, não era eu… era tudo o que eu não compreendia que me controlava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amei demais, até me sentir cortar por esse amor. Até sentir que os meus ossos, o meu sangue, o meu respirar eram parte desse amor… e nesse amor, eu era eu mesmo. As proporções que tudo isto tomou é que fugiram do controlo de ambos, fomos amando e tornando o outro parte de nós e sem saber lidar com isso, matamo-nos.&lt;br /&gt;Seguindo cada um o seu caminho. Crescendo cada um no seu rumo, mesmo que de formas paralelas, eis que chego a uma porta que me decidi a abrir. De novo o sentir, de novo o querer… não soube, não consegui, não me permiti ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E assim, voltamos à pergunta inicial, será que é possível gostar tanto de alguém que deixamos de ser nós mesmos? Não pelo facto de não conseguir estar sem a pessoa, ou de não ser sem a pessoa… mas sim pelo facto que quando se está com quem que nos provoca todos estes sentimentos, não conseguimos abrir a nossa porta, deixando que um estranho ser tome conta de nós e nos faça agir e reagir de forma incoerente com o que somos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria conseguir ser, ao teu lado. Mas não consigo…&lt;br /&gt;E a tua ausência… magoa-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-2640190748911844673?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2640190748911844673/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2640190748911844673' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2640190748911844673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2640190748911844673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2008/01/ser-possvel-gostar-tanto-de-algum-que.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-5104158728192402001</id><published>2007-12-20T13:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-20T13:51:27.744Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Meti o barco ao mar, para ficar a meio caminho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FUCK ME SANTA!!!&lt;br /&gt;FUCK ME!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/R2pzKdJNa0I/AAAAAAAAAAk/MxuQQ4mJTL0/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146052147683355458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/R2pzKdJNa0I/AAAAAAAAAAk/MxuQQ4mJTL0/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-5104158728192402001?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/5104158728192402001/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=5104158728192402001' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5104158728192402001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5104158728192402001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/meti-o-barco-ao-mar-para-ficar-meio.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/R2pzKdJNa0I/AAAAAAAAAAk/MxuQQ4mJTL0/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-3260030310051533440</id><published>2007-12-20T09:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-20T09:31:28.890Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nos dias mais banais&lt;br /&gt;Uns assim, todos iguais.&lt;br /&gt;Somos apenas nós,&lt;br /&gt;Somos apenas sós.&lt;/strong&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/8665013-3260030310051533440?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/3260030310051533440/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=3260030310051533440' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3260030310051533440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3260030310051533440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/e-nos-dias-mais-banais-uns-assim-todos.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2137214521742711372</id><published>2007-12-20T09:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-20T09:29:00.003Z</updated><title type='text'>Há amores assim</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rat3sLxpfo0&amp;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/Rat3sLxpfo0&amp;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/8665013-2137214521742711372?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2137214521742711372/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2137214521742711372' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2137214521742711372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2137214521742711372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/h-amores-assim.html' title='Há amores assim'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-4868118949335405124</id><published>2007-12-12T21:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-12T21:33:41.695Z</updated><title type='text'>Cineclube de Olhão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pessoal, atentem na iniciativa  do CineClube de Olhão!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cineclubeolhao.com/index.php"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.cineclubeolhao.com/templates/img/bglogo.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Carreguem na imagem&lt;/span&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/8665013-4868118949335405124?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/4868118949335405124/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=4868118949335405124' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4868118949335405124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4868118949335405124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/cineclube-de-olho.html' title='Cineclube de Olhão'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-5734246691068983174</id><published>2007-12-11T11:44:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-12-11T11:44:48.380Z</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque eu sou o hoje que o ontem fez.&lt;br /&gt;Não vivo nele, vive ele em mim.&lt;/strong&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/8665013-5734246691068983174?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/5734246691068983174/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=5734246691068983174' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5734246691068983174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5734246691068983174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-1188358492149364273</id><published>2007-12-11T09:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-11T09:48:07.323Z</updated><title type='text'>petites histoires</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;E ela pegou-lhe na mão. Levou-o suavemente para a beira do mar e sentou-o. A roupa deixou-se molhar pela espuma da imensidão e os pés, quentes, gelaram. Que estranha sensação esta, de corpo frio e peito quente. Que estranha forma de sentir, agora que não se sente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;A máquina disparava de forma quase insana. A vontade de guardar aqueles momentos, de os registar tomavam conta dele. Ela continuava, com o corpo, o sorriso, as formas. Tudo nela parecia dizer para a seguir, para a adorar. E ele fê-lo. Sentiu o seu ser aproximar-se, sem que o corpo se movimentasse. As duas almas mutaram-se, entrelaçaram-se, amaram-se sem se tocar, sem que a pele de um sentisse o sabor da do outro e numa espiral metafísica nasceu o respirar de um dragão, quente e flamejante luxúria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;br /&gt;“Que jeitoso estás, assim de fato…” e ele sorri, semi-envergonhado, permitindo-se despojar do controlo sobre os sentimentos. E ela segura-o de forma vigorosa e puxa-o para si, beija-o devagar e apenas com a ponta dos lábios, a ponta da língua tenta furar, saborear, dar a sentir a vontade de que ele seja seu.&lt;br /&gt;E assim o fato dá lugar ao negro vestir, e os botões de punho substituídos por correias de cabedal que o puxam contra a parede, que o impedem de respirar. Ofegante sente-a seguir o seu peito com a ponta dos dedos. Olha-a nos olhos, que bonita é... a boca tapada, o corpo despido de desnecessária roupa, os sapatos altos de verniz e a tanga fina, preta. &lt;br /&gt;O corpo estremece, tenta tocar-lhe, mas ela foge, goza com o poder que tem sobre ele. O gozo é mútuo… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-1188358492149364273?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/1188358492149364273/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=1188358492149364273' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1188358492149364273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1188358492149364273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/12/petites-histoires.html' title='petites histoires'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-9016765190883610545</id><published>2007-10-19T09:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T10:05:41.411+01:00</updated><title type='text'>eu não sou todos os outros</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;vagueei e perdi-me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;perdi-me algures no meu passado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;que cantei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;muitas vezes, fruto do imaginado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De italiano nada tenho,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;mas com o filme me comparo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Completo idiota, andava feito actor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Novamente fingindo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;uma vida com fervor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dei por mim a olhar para ti,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;encontrando-te nos meus desencontros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Principesa que sorriu, pim* que se tornou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Abri a porta a medo, serias tu que ali estavas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;eram os teus olhos rasgados, lindos e por mim amados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sorri contigo, e sem ti chorei, no medo de te perder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Já tinha a porta aberta... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Agora? Nada a fazer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenho-te em mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;quero-te, sem dor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;mas por fim, desilusão em ti criei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;por isso agora choro... meu amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-9016765190883610545?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/9016765190883610545/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=9016765190883610545' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/9016765190883610545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/9016765190883610545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/10/vagueei-e-perdi-me.html' title='eu não sou todos os outros'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-8504152069797968831</id><published>2007-10-18T14:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T14:31:04.514+01:00</updated><title type='text'>pensamoentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Como podes conhecer-me,&lt;br /&gt;Se não falo…&lt;br /&gt;Como podes querer,&lt;br /&gt;Se eu calo!&lt;br /&gt;Pego em ti,&lt;br /&gt;Levo-te ao que conheço&lt;br /&gt;Deixo que fale por mim!&lt;br /&gt;Te mostre o que escondo…faça o meu preço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei porque o faço&lt;br /&gt;Ou se faço por querer…&lt;br /&gt;Sei que te quero&lt;br /&gt;Como quem quer viver!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual Imperador, deixei-me levar.&lt;br /&gt;P’los teus olhos rasgados, teu sorriso de luar…&lt;br /&gt;P’las mãos suaves que me acarinham.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os beijos sonolentos... e o abraço que me acalma…&lt;br /&gt;És Tu, que me trazes de volta a alma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-8504152069797968831?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/8504152069797968831/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=8504152069797968831' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8504152069797968831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8504152069797968831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/10/pensamoentos.html' title='pensamoentos'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-8894361825753532827</id><published>2007-10-16T19:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T19:54:38.471+01:00</updated><title type='text'>u put the D on my Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object height="199" width="325"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/3HdNUTa5ZjXqfbbnl"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/3HdNUTa5ZjXqfbbnl" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="299" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;this the way i love you *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1l4l7_flaws-and-all-beyonce_music"&gt;Flaws And All - Beyonce&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Colocado por &lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/vindiezel"&gt;vindiezel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm a train wreck in the morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm a bitch in the afternoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Every now and then without warning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I can be really mean towards you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm a puzzle yes indeed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ever-complex in every way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And all the pieces aren't even in the box&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And yet, you see the picture clear as day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't know why you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You catch me when I fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Accept me flaws and all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love (hmm)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I neglect you when I'm working (ha ha ha uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;When I need attention&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I tend to nag (oh oh ha uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm a host of imperfection (ha ha ha uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And you see past all that (hm hm uhn uhhhh uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I'm a peasant by some standards (ha ha ha ha uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;But in your eyes I'm a queen (oh oh ha uhn)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You see potential in all my flaws (ha ha ha uh uh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's exactly what I need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I don't know why you love me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You catch me when I fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Accept me flaws and all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I love you (ah)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ha ha haa ha ha uhn! ha ha haa ha ha uhn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ha ha haa ha ha uhn! ha ha haa ha ha uhn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Don't know why you loooove me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn ;ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I looove you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn ha uhn! ha ha ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You catch me when I fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn!]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Accept me flaws and all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I looove you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn, ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I looove you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn! ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And that's why I looove you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn! ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You,You, you, oh, you, you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You, you, you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[ha haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You, no, you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You, you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[haa ha ha uhn]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;You, you. &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/8665013-8894361825753532827?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/8894361825753532827/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=8894361825753532827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8894361825753532827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8894361825753532827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/10/flaws-and-all-beyonce-colocado-por.html' title='u put the D on my Day...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-7543709662279003126</id><published>2007-10-09T12:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T12:50:14.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://oblogdorapaz.no.sapo.pt/Donna%20Maria%20-%20Dois%20lados%20do%20mesmo%20adeus.mp3" autostart="false" hidden="false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Caem como folhas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lágrimas no seu rosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Suavemente descem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixam-lhe o desgosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Entre dois suspiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sopro-lhe na face sem favor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Abre-se a janela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenta um disfarce&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aperta-me a mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ri por um instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixo-me ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixo-me ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nunca quis saber nunca quis acreditar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que tu irias partir não podias cá ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nunca quis escutar muito menos quis ouvir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O teu silêncio que avisava a intenção de não voltar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Podes crer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bem que me disseram para nunca me agarrar a uma pessoa a um lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Podes crer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Se um homem nunca chora para que servem estes olhos se não podem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;mais te ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Queria ver queria saber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O que fazias tu que estás aqui a observar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tás a ver tás a perceber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pode ser que um dia a gente volte a se encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Agora embora, agora sem demora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixa-me ficar aqui sozinho p’ra pensar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Embora agora que a minha alma chora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Como disse alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vou-me perder para me encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Esse choro triste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Desespero seu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;P’ra tentar dizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nada se perdeu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pede-me que fique mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Por um segundo eterno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Como se quisesse ter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O meu beijo terno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aperta-me a mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ri por um instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixo-me ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Só por esse instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Dois Lados do Mesmo Adeus - Donna Maria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-7543709662279003126?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/7543709662279003126/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=7543709662279003126' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7543709662279003126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7543709662279003126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/10/caem-como-folhas-lgrimas-no-seu-rosto.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2743143312057552077</id><published>2007-10-06T22:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T22:42:32.364+01:00</updated><title type='text'>feeling blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;just like a bird without a feather&lt;br /&gt;you know im lost without your love&lt;br /&gt;just like a bird without a feather&lt;br /&gt;you know im lost without your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know i need your loving&lt;br /&gt;just like the angels need heaven above&lt;br /&gt;well, i done shot that woman&lt;br /&gt;shot her 'cause she done me wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, i love that woman&lt;br /&gt;says she ain't love no one but me&lt;br /&gt;yeah, but i caught that woman cheatin'&lt;br /&gt;now our home ain't where it used to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;from the movie Black Snake Moan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-2743143312057552077?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2743143312057552077/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2743143312057552077' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2743143312057552077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2743143312057552077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/10/feeling-blue.html' title='feeling blue'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2341392649802114799</id><published>2007-08-13T19:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T19:22:45.313+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/RsCf_7SQj_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/fUXT4_61mS0/s1600-h/hurt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098250698778251250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/RsCf_7SQj_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/fUXT4_61mS0/s320/hurt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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-size:85%;"&gt;já não sei sorrir... a felicidade tenta encontrar-me, assumo que de todas as vezes que fugi o fiz porque não suportava a ideia do risco, o medo tomava-me de rompante e eu, fraco, não conseguia ficar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Decidi tentar, arriscar pode não ser assim tão mau, pensei. Nem todas são assim, nem todas as pessoas me querem magoar...ou o vão fazer sem pensar em mais nada que não seja o seu bem-estar. Dizendo isto parece que as pessoas de quem fugi o queriam fazer. Não é verdade... a minha mente e mais que tudo, o meu peito dilacerado, que ao menor bater do novo coração que se começa a criar, grita de dor, habituado ao vazio não consegue suportar o movimento ora calmo ora alucinante do sorriso, da paixão, da vontade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Magoo-me mais a mim que aos outros, posso eu pensar, até aqui chego a ser egoista... sei lá eu o quanto magoei as outras pessoas, o quanto lhes custou o meu virar de costas... mas virei-me tantas vezes porque não queria que me vissem chorar, e tantas outras não me voltei de novo para elas porque as lágrimas salgam a ferida e dói ainda mais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Decidi não pensar, deixar ir é capaz de saber bem, outra vez. Se já foste feliz, porque não o podes ser de novo? A resposta é tão simples que me chega a fazer ela mesma rir desenfreadamente. Quando um não quer, dois não dançam. E eu já quis tanto, e há tanto que não danço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Torno-me noutro, faço-me diferente, mascaro-me do que não quero ser e do que não suporto nas outras pessoas. É mais fácil assim, se ficar a ver os outros dançar é mesmo porque eu não o sei fazer. Mas quero tanto, quero tanto agora, já. Porque faço eu o contrário? Não sempre, mas por vezes. Por vezes quando o sorriso aparece e o peito outrora cheio, que se habituou a ser só, começa a abrir, a ferida sangra, o medo aparece, a dor acutilante faz-me tremer, a vontade sobe e fortalece o que a alma não consegue acompanhar, o sentimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sinto falta de sentir.&lt;/span&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/8665013-2341392649802114799?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2341392649802114799/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2341392649802114799' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2341392649802114799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2341392649802114799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/08/j-no-sei-sorrir.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/RsCf_7SQj_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/fUXT4_61mS0/s72-c/hurt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-3127365617402343733</id><published>2007-07-24T01:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T01:09:14.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="body"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/devotchkamusic"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Devotchka - You Love Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Under the mother eyes of the Mexican sky&lt;br /&gt;She was happy and it shows in the sun&lt;br /&gt;And it was fate laid in stone&lt;br /&gt;Sacred heart, sacred ground&lt;br /&gt;Her two children and we moved as one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you said you loved me&lt;br /&gt;You said you loved me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now there’s something missing&lt;br /&gt;when you’re kissing me&lt;br /&gt;It’s subtle yet it’s gone&lt;br /&gt;And then I’m suspicious&lt;br /&gt;And then it gets vicious&lt;br /&gt;And then it’s a hole right through the heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And you said you loved me&lt;br /&gt;I thought you loved me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now there is an ocean of time&lt;br /&gt;Between your life and mine&lt;br /&gt;You look happy and you’re married again&lt;br /&gt;And oh my Lord how you’ve grown&lt;br /&gt;To find me still alone&lt;br /&gt;I am humble&lt;br /&gt;I’m still trying to forget &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When you said you loved me&lt;br /&gt;I thought you loved me&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/8665013-3127365617402343733?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/3127365617402343733/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=3127365617402343733' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3127365617402343733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/3127365617402343733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/07/devotchka-you-love-me-under-mother-eyes.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-4724434477844564525</id><published>2007-07-23T16:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T16:57:10.603+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://home.wangjianshuo.com/archives/2005/01/03/newyork-streets-cold.without.sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://home.wangjianshuo.com/archives/2005/01/03/newyork-streets-cold.without.sun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O que procuramos nós? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Andamos pela vida como se fossemos a descer uma rua na baixa a ver as montras. Tentamos ter sempre ao nosso lado pessoas que nos façam sentir bem, por fora.&lt;br /&gt;Descemos as avenidas iluminadas e esquecemos as ruelas cheias de vida e personalidade.&lt;br /&gt;Observo as pessoas e pergunto-me o que aconteceu para que perdêssemos a capacidade de sermos nós mesmos, de olhar ao espelho e pensar que gostamos de nós desta ou daquela forma sem que haja mais um milhão de pessoas a pensar o mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Porque procuramos nós, pessoas que sejam iguais a tantas outras?&lt;br /&gt;Não se trocam palavras, trocam-se olhares.&lt;br /&gt;Não se promovem abraços, procuram-se beijos.&lt;br /&gt;Não se sente, vive-se.&lt;br /&gt;Mas será a vida apenas o passar dos dias? O contar do tempo sem que se retenha dele sorrisos e memórias que nos tragam no dia seguinte mais do que apenas o sentimento de mais um?&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/8665013-4724434477844564525?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/4724434477844564525/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=4724434477844564525' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4724434477844564525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4724434477844564525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/07/o-que-procuramos-ns-andamos-pela-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-7816384863189832168</id><published>2007-06-11T15:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T15:11:57.253+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não quero falar com ninguém</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não quero falar com ninguém. Não atendo o telemóvel, não respondo a mensagens.&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem-me, que são poucos os que comigo se preocupam, mas não estou capaz de ouvir as mesmas palavras de sempre.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que são bons conselhos, mas que querem que eu faça?&lt;br /&gt;Saber que estou errada não altera, em nada, os meus dias, nem seca as minhas lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;Saber que não encontro em mim as forças suficientes para agir, ou não agir, ou, simplesmente, aprender a gostar de mim mesma e, portanto, ser capaz de dizer não, tudo isto me seca o ânimo, me devora a claridade, come-me o bater do coração e só reconheço a tristeza e esta sensação pungente de injustiça, uma injustiça que, de tão pesada, me tolhe todas as horas dos dias e todos os dias que estão para vir.&lt;br /&gt;O amor não é cego. Qualquer tipo de amor, por muito que o digam os poetas, não, não é cego, nem surdo e, por isso mesmo, damos a quem amamos o poder de nos magoar.&lt;br /&gt;Uma, e uma, e outra vez.&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes, quando ando na rua e olho quem passa, tento descobrir-lhes a vida. Dou comigo a inventar histórias de amores eternos, paixões proibidas, solidões profundas, enfim, vou inventando um mundo no caminho para o trabalho, do trabalho para casa.&lt;br /&gt;O Silêncio, cada dia, me cobre mais, como se fosse uma segunda pele.&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem não atender o telefone, a vocês, que são os únicos que se preocupam comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem, mas hoje vou fingir que vivo a vida dos outros e, assim, não terei de olhar para a minha.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;by Luísa Castel-Branco in Destak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-7816384863189832168?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/7816384863189832168/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=7816384863189832168' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7816384863189832168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7816384863189832168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-quero-falar-com-ningum.html' title='Não quero falar com ninguém'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2452389656437751180</id><published>2007-06-08T22:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T22:03:02.062+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h4 style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SPUJIbXN0WY"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SPUJIbXN0WY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4 style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4 style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Michael Buble – Everything lyrics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;You're a falling star, You're the get away car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;" id="songlyrics"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; You're the line in the sand when I go too far.&lt;br /&gt;You're the swimming pool, on an August day.&lt;br /&gt;And you're the perfect thing to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you play you're coy, but it's kinda cute.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, When you smile at me you know exactly what you do.&lt;br /&gt;Baby don't pretend, that you don't know it's true.&lt;br /&gt;Cause you can see it when I look at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times&lt;br /&gt;It's you, it's you, You make me sing.&lt;br /&gt;You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,&lt;br /&gt;And you light me up, when you ring my bell.&lt;br /&gt;You're a mystery, you're from outer space,&lt;br /&gt;You're every minute of my everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't believe, that I'm your man,&lt;br /&gt;And I get to kiss you baby just because I can.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,&lt;br /&gt;And you know that's what our love can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times&lt;br /&gt;It's you, it's you, You make me sing&lt;br /&gt;You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La&lt;br /&gt;So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times&lt;br /&gt;It's you, it's you, You make me sing.&lt;br /&gt;You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.&lt;br /&gt;You're every song, and I sing along.&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're my everything.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La&lt;br /&gt;So, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La&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/8665013-2452389656437751180?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2452389656437751180/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2452389656437751180' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2452389656437751180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2452389656437751180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/06/michael-buble-everything-lyrics-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-7178287261941197699</id><published>2007-05-19T01:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T01:20:28.417+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as palavras não têm fluido dos meus dedos tanto quanto eu queria... tanto quanto me faria bem...&lt;br /&gt;trago-vos uma música que me agradou... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UVDrP-KDQxc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UVDrP-KDQxc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Found myself just the other day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In the backyard of a friends place,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thinkin' about you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thinkin' of the crowd you're in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What you up too where you been?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Just thinkin')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And all the clothes that you wear,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the colors in your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shouldn't change you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now you tell me why it's so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You bigger than mighty Joe,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(At lest you think so)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God my fingers burn,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now when I think of touching your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You have changed so much that I don't know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I can call you and tell you I care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And I would love to bring you down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plant your feet back on the ground&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Throw my smoke down on the ground,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Turn my head and I heard the sound,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(That reminded me)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Of the days so young and sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Always so much fun to meet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(At lest I thought so)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now you think your so damn fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You can rule the world no not mine,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't think so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God my fingers burn,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now when I think of touching your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You have changed so much that I don't know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I can call you and tell you I care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now the scene that you're in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the people that you been with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just get to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But you think I'm not as cool,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As you are so beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well who you fooling?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well I'm here to tell you babe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The game your in is just a game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So damn pretentious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God my fingers burn,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now when I think of touching your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You have changed so much that I don't know,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I can call you and tell you I care&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And I would love to bring you down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plant your feet back on the ground&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You think you're so beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(So beautiful)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-7178287261941197699?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/7178287261941197699/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=7178287261941197699' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7178287261941197699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/7178287261941197699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/05/as-palavras-no-tm-fluido-dos-meus-dedos.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-2928647748235588474</id><published>2007-05-18T00:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T00:46:33.487+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UqNZ5Y5BgdA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UqNZ5Y5BgdA" 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/8665013-2928647748235588474?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/2928647748235588474/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=2928647748235588474' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2928647748235588474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/2928647748235588474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post_18.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-4301769495001595034</id><published>2007-05-03T00:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T00:10:41.367+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SBuM8HaquPM"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SBuM8HaquPM" 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/8665013-4301769495001595034?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/4301769495001595034/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=4301769495001595034' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4301769495001595034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4301769495001595034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-4511585684353967414</id><published>2007-04-27T00:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T00:00:54.448+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Patrick Wolf-'The Libertine'</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;          The motorway won't take a horse.&lt;br /&gt;The wanderer has found a course to follow.&lt;br /&gt;The traveller unpacked his bags for the last time.&lt;br /&gt;The troubadour cut off his hand and now he wants mine,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, no )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The circus girl fell off her horse, now shes paralysed.&lt;br /&gt;The hitchiker was bound and gagged, raped on the roadside.&lt;br /&gt;The libertine is locked in jail.&lt;br /&gt;The pirate sunk and broke his sail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still have to go,&lt;br /&gt;I've got to go, so here I go,&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna run the risk of being free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The magicians secrets all revealed.&lt;br /&gt;And the preachers lies are all concealed.&lt;br /&gt;And all our heroes lack any conviction.&lt;br /&gt;They shout through the bars of cliche and addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've got to go,&lt;br /&gt;I've got to go, so here I go&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna run the risk of being free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this drought of truth and invention, whooever shouts the loudest gets the most attention, so we pass the mic and they've got nothing to say except:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bow down, bow down, bow down to your god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we hit the floor, and make ourselves and idol to bow before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I can't,&lt;br /&gt;And I won't&lt;br /&gt;Bow down,&lt;br /&gt;Anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-4511585684353967414?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/4511585684353967414/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=4511585684353967414' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4511585684353967414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/4511585684353967414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/04/patrick-wolf-libertine.html' title='Patrick Wolf-&apos;The Libertine&apos;'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-6284899824898594770</id><published>2007-04-23T23:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T23:06:49.712+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Amas alguém?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;amei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mais do que a mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do que a vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mais do que à família&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que aos amigos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amei até me doerem os ossos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e fiquei com a dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-6284899824898594770?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/6284899824898594770/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=6284899824898594770' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6284899824898594770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6284899824898594770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/04/amas-algum.html' title='Amas alguém?'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-5802975649505390231</id><published>2007-03-29T13:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T13:28:55.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Roubado à catawyna :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="never" allownetworking="internal" enablejavascript="false" src="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/swf/widget.swf" quality="best" bgcolor="#000000" width="340" height="240" name="widget" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="bgcolor=#000000&amp;i1=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-183DE488.jpeg&amp;amp;c1=&amp;i2=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_2A5973C5.jpeg&amp;amp;c2=&amp;i3=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-1AF73F11.jpeg&amp;amp;c3=&amp;i4=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-4811A17.jpeg&amp;amp;c4=&amp;i5=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-396C1EDE.jpeg&amp;amp;c5=&amp;i6=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-71DC4AA8.jpeg&amp;amp;c6=&amp;i7=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-5BCEEB04.jpeg&amp;amp;c7=&amp;i8=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-6EAA4FA9.jpeg&amp;amp;c8=&amp;i9=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_761F2B14.jpeg&amp;amp;c9=&amp;i10=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_2F50C3FA.jpeg&amp;amp;c10=&amp;i11=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-74F8AADA.jpeg&amp;amp;c11=&amp;i12=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_1D28CE3C.jpeg&amp;amp;c12=&amp;i13=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-1B4C950E.jpeg&amp;amp;c13=&amp;moodlabel=WILD CAT&amp;amp;lovelabel=LOVE BUG&amp;funlabel=CONQUEROR&amp;amp;habitslabel=BACK TO BASICS&amp;uid=157967-a259&amp;amp;srv=iwebcl5"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;    &lt;div style="text-align:center; width:340px;height:25px;margin-top:0px; border-top:1px solid rgb(150,150,150);background-color:rgb(0,0,0);padding:5px 0 0 0; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://networking.imagini.blueorange.co.uk/vdna.php?uid=157967-a259&amp;srv=iwebcl5" style="color:rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Read my VisualDNA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10px;color:#cccccc"&gt;&amp;trade;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;a href="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/" style="color:rgb(255,255,255) "&gt;Get your own VisualDNA&amp;trade;&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/8665013-5802975649505390231?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/5802975649505390231/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=5802975649505390231' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5802975649505390231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/5802975649505390231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/03/roubado-catawyna-read-my-visualdna-get.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-8402249548074405250</id><published>2007-02-24T00:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-24T00:23:17.073Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/Rd-Ev3v0DlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bzXyzosEiwQ/s1600-h/Death+Angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/Rd-Ev3v0DlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bzXyzosEiwQ/s320/Death+Angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034888866376715858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" &gt;morto pelas mesmas asas que ensinaram a voar&lt;/span&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/8665013-8402249548074405250?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/8402249548074405250/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=8402249548074405250' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8402249548074405250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/8402249548074405250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_zPPWfraN2g8/Rd-Ev3v0DlI/AAAAAAAAAAM/bzXyzosEiwQ/s72-c/Death+Angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-6406278675583013667</id><published>2007-02-22T03:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T03:30:09.335Z</updated><title type='text'>sou como sou...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;pedes sempre algo que raramente tem contornos de real.&lt;br /&gt;Como se eu conseguisse voltar a ser depois de ter sido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é ao mesmo tempo que deixa de ser.&lt;br /&gt;Quase como a chuva, que bate contra o vidro e escorre,&lt;br /&gt;gota a gota, cada uma atrás da outra sem nunca ficarem ali,&lt;br /&gt;quietas, suspensas no vidro apenas para serem minhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janelas há muitas... gotas vêm e não ficam, escorrem&lt;br /&gt;ou limpo-as eu, que quero ver lá para fora.&lt;br /&gt;Não és gota nem janela, és a brisa que me faz tremer&lt;br /&gt;quando as flores das amendoeiras trazem o teu cheiro&lt;br /&gt;e a lembrança dos teus olhos que me mostram que existi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu, sou como sou, um sorriso teu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-6406278675583013667?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/6406278675583013667/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=6406278675583013667' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6406278675583013667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/6406278675583013667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/02/sou-como-sou.html' title='sou como sou...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-1520450376561620447</id><published>2007-02-10T19:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-08T23:29:22.461Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;can i give up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-1520450376561620447?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/1520450376561620447/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=1520450376561620447' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1520450376561620447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/1520450376561620447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/02/can-i-give-up-please.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116829881018362945</id><published>2007-01-08T23:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-08T23:26:50.200Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;estou perdido dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;quieto!&lt;br /&gt;não me vá eu perder mais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;misstreated is not the word...&lt;br /&gt;damaged is the feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116829881018362945?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116829881018362945/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116829881018362945' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116829881018362945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116829881018362945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2007/01/estou-perdido-dentro-de-mim-quieto-no.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116665161318463790</id><published>2006-12-20T21:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T21:53:33.200Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms,arial,helvetica;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 128, 64);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;small&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Foi por vontade de Deus&lt;br /&gt;  que eu vivo nesta ansiedade.&lt;br /&gt;  Que todos os ais são meus,&lt;br /&gt;  Que é toda a minha saudade.&lt;br /&gt;  Foi por vontade de Deus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Que estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;  tem este meu coração:&lt;br /&gt;  vive de forma perdida;&lt;br /&gt;  Quem lhe daria o condão?&lt;br /&gt;  Que estranha forma de vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Coração independente,&lt;br /&gt;  coração que não comando:&lt;br /&gt;  vive perdido entre a gente,&lt;br /&gt;  teimosamente sangrando,&lt;br /&gt;  coração independente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Eu não te acompanho mais:&lt;br /&gt;  para, deixa de bater.&lt;br /&gt;  Se não sabes aonde vais,&lt;br /&gt;  porque teimas em correr,&lt;br /&gt;  eu não te acompanho mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois Disto...Desisto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tantas coisas que já li&lt;br /&gt;Outras tantas que vivi&lt;br /&gt;Fazem de mim o que sou&lt;br /&gt;Ai se eu tivesse esquecido&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que tenho vivido&lt;br /&gt;E o coração decorou&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é questão de memória&lt;br /&gt;É o nosso pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Que a vida nos vai passando&lt;br /&gt;A memória faz história&lt;br /&gt;Do que foi cada momento&lt;br /&gt;Que nós vamos recordando&lt;br /&gt;Isto da alma é segredo&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém sabe desvendar&lt;br /&gt;Os porquês de tudo isto&lt;br /&gt;Sabemos que tarde ou cedo&lt;br /&gt;Iremos a enterrar&lt;br /&gt;E depois disto...desisto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116665161318463790?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116665161318463790/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116665161318463790' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116665161318463790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116665161318463790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/12/estranha-forma-de-vida-foi-por-vontade.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116276850697131300</id><published>2006-11-05T23:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-19T12:22:25.133Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Gift - Facil de Entender&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/rjn0YDbInuA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/rjn0YDbInuA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;just you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116276850697131300?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116276850697131300/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116276850697131300' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116276850697131300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116276850697131300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/11/gift-facil-de-entender-just-you.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116268187886885045</id><published>2006-11-04T23:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-04T23:11:19.246Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Muse - Starlight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/GqBS2HllSss"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/GqBS2HllSss" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;Far away&lt;br /&gt;The ship is taking me far away&lt;br /&gt;Far away from the memories&lt;br /&gt;Of the people who care if I live or die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starlight&lt;br /&gt;I will be chasing a starlight&lt;br /&gt;Until the end of my life&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it's worth it anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hold you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold&lt;br /&gt;You in my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life&lt;br /&gt;You electrify my life&lt;br /&gt;Let's conspire to re-ignite&lt;br /&gt;All the souls that would die just to feel alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll never let you go&lt;br /&gt;If you promise not to fade away&lt;br /&gt;Never fade away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations&lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations&lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations&lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold&lt;br /&gt;You in my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far away&lt;br /&gt;The ship is taking me far away&lt;br /&gt;Far away from the memories&lt;br /&gt;Of the people who care if I live or die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll never let you go&lt;br /&gt;If you promise not to fade away&lt;br /&gt;Never fade away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations&lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations&lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold&lt;br /&gt;You in my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116268187886885045?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116268187886885045/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116268187886885045' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116268187886885045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116268187886885045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/11/muse-starlight-far-away-ship-is-taking.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116234237232196637</id><published>2006-11-01T00:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-01T00:52:52.323Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>já fui feliz...&lt;br /&gt;agora sou só eu, com todo o nada que isso traz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116234237232196637?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116234237232196637/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116234237232196637' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116234237232196637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116234237232196637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/11/j-fui-feliz.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-116233065499345959</id><published>2006-10-31T21:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-10-31T21:37:34.993Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;today...&lt;br /&gt;another day...&lt;br /&gt;just here... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-116233065499345959?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/116233065499345959/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=116233065499345959' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116233065499345959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/116233065499345959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/10/today.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-115881875969118936</id><published>2006-09-21T07:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T07:05:59.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eric Clapton - Tears In Heaven&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/EmxkQi4DPk8"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/EmxkQi4DPk8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;i really miss you :,(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-115881875969118936?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/115881875969118936/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=115881875969118936' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115881875969118936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115881875969118936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/09/eric-clapton-tears-in-heaven-i-really.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-115600830878799988</id><published>2006-08-19T18:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T15:50:40.676+01:00</updated><title type='text'>my...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as vezes qdo chego a casa&lt;br/&gt;meio triste&lt;br/&gt;quero-o&lt;br/&gt;mas estou tão murcho que não faço por isso&lt;br/&gt;então ele&lt;br/&gt;que também não quer dar o braço a torcer&lt;br/&gt;parece à porta do quarto&lt;br/&gt;eu olho para ele&lt;br/&gt;fico contente&lt;br/&gt;espero que ele venha&lt;br/&gt;ele vai...&lt;br/&gt;volta...&lt;br/&gt;eu chamo&lt;br/&gt;ele olha...&lt;br/&gt;salta p cima de mim&lt;br/&gt;e ficamos assim caladinhos a amar-nos  &lt;br/&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-115600830878799988?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/115600830878799988/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=115600830878799988' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115600830878799988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115600830878799988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/08/my.html' title='my...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-115418588587018567</id><published>2006-07-29T16:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T16:11:25.950+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mamanadisquejepeux&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/P50ESZsLK0g"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/P50ESZsLK0g" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;bom... se ela "oui" ele "tudo bem"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-115418588587018567?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/115418588587018567/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=115418588587018567' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115418588587018567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115418588587018567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/07/mamanadisquejepeux-bom.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-115288331337790411</id><published>2006-07-14T14:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T18:12:33.306+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;SHE (Elvis Costello)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/G4I0BfJh2zo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/G4I0BfJh2zo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;someone - ainda?&lt;br /&gt;me - sim...&lt;br /&gt;someone - e quando...?&lt;br /&gt;me - não sei... talvez nunca&lt;br /&gt;someone - oh.. não podes pensar assim&lt;br /&gt;me - não penso... sinto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-115288331337790411?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/115288331337790411/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=115288331337790411' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115288331337790411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115288331337790411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/07/she-elvis-costello-someone-ainda-me.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-115119178944406277</id><published>2006-06-25T00:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T13:46:43.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Roxy Music - All I Want is You&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/A7yxN8ctGSE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/A7yxN8ctGSE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" 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/8665013-115119178944406277?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/115119178944406277/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=115119178944406277' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115119178944406277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/115119178944406277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/06/roxy-music-all-i-want-is-you.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114916764061123369</id><published>2006-06-01T14:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T03:40:02.963+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Nitin Sawhney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Letting Go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I often talk of my heart&lt;br /&gt;How can I turn to the dark&lt;br /&gt;And the swaying silence&lt;br /&gt;I see, there’s nothing I can hold on to&lt;br /&gt;You can’t breathe if I hold you tight&lt;br /&gt;You can’t breathe if I hold you tight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid of letting go&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid of letting go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not of anything out of anyone&lt;br /&gt;All alone here with my demons&lt;br /&gt;Am I ready to move on&lt;br /&gt;To a person or place&lt;br /&gt;Alone away from here&lt;br /&gt;And I miss you&lt;br /&gt;And I loose you&lt;br /&gt;And I found you&lt;br /&gt;I choose to follow my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid of letting go&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid of letting go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not of anything out of anyone&lt;br /&gt;Out of anything out of anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be afraid of letting go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114916764061123369?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114916764061123369/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114916764061123369' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114916764061123369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114916764061123369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/06/nitin-sawhney-letting-go-now-i-often.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114911098927885014</id><published>2006-05-31T22:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T13:00:01.203+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/320/down.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;i do not want to feel like this never more&lt;/span&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/8665013-114911098927885014?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114911098927885014/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114911098927885014' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114911098927885014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114911098927885014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-do-not-want-to-feel-like-this-never.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114584283841497007</id><published>2006-04-24T02:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T22:18:52.890+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Estou sentado numa cadeira, frente a um mundo que não reconheço como meu. Olho e não percebo como posso eu ser feliz. Se é que isso existe ou alguma vez o irei alcançar. Dias há em que os sorrisos se seguem uns após outros, que os amigos se transformam em vida e ela nela mesma. Será isso a felicidade? E se eu for diferente? Se os sorrisos não chegarem, se os momentos não forem por si mesmos, se o mundo for pequeno demais e ao mesmo tempo impercorrível? Tenho muito, sou tanto mais, quero algo que já tive, menos não chega, metade seria mais do que tive depois, o todo não existe. O tempo levou-me e trouxe-me por outro lado, por um caminho que eu conhecia mas nunca tinha pisado. Talvez tenha ouvido falar nele, num qualquer sonho que se pensa não existir quando se vive de sonhos. Quando com ele curzamos, sentimos aquele frio no corpo, que nos aquece e faz virar o mundo do avesso, para o vermos a direito. Ver de olhos vendados pelo que queremos e não pelo que temos. O que eu quero não tenho porque não quero.&lt;/span&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/8665013-114584283841497007?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114584283841497007/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114584283841497007' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114584283841497007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114584283841497007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/04/estou-sentado-numa-cadeira-frente-um.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114582691490227349</id><published>2006-04-23T22:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T22:15:14.916+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And it came to me then that every plan&lt;br /&gt;is a tiny prayer to father time&lt;br /&gt;As I stared at my shoes in the ICU&lt;br /&gt;that reeked of piss and 409&lt;br /&gt;And I rationed my breathes&lt;br /&gt;as I said to myself&lt;br /&gt;that I'd already taken too much today&lt;br /&gt;As each descending peak&lt;br /&gt;on the LCD&lt;br /&gt;took you a little farther away from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away from me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines&lt;br /&gt;in a place where we only say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;It stung like a violent wind&lt;br /&gt;that out memories depend&lt;br /&gt;on a faulty camera in our minds&lt;br /&gt;But I knew that you were a truth&lt;br /&gt;I would rather lose&lt;br /&gt;than to have never lain beside at all&lt;br /&gt;And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground&lt;br /&gt;as the TV entertained itself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room&lt;br /&gt;Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news&lt;br /&gt;And then the nurse comes round&lt;br /&gt;and everyone will lift their heads&lt;br /&gt;But I'm thinking of what Sarah said&lt;br /&gt;that "Love is watching someone die"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So who's going to watch you die?..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE - "What Sarah Said"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114582691490227349?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114582691490227349/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114582691490227349' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114582691490227349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114582691490227349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-it-came-to-me-then-that-every-plan.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114532084307642142</id><published>2006-04-18T01:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T01:40:43.086+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; I'm really close tonight&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've been moving inside her&lt;br /&gt;I´m laying in the dark&lt;br /&gt;I think that I'm beginning to know her&lt;br /&gt;Let it go&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there when you call&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah whenever I fall at your feet&lt;br /&gt;And let your tears rain down on me&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I touch your slow turning pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're hiding from me now&lt;br /&gt;There's something in the way that you're talking&lt;br /&gt;The words don't sound right&lt;br /&gt;But I hear them all moving inside you, go&lt;br /&gt;I'll be waiting when you call&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Yeah whenever I fall at your feet&lt;br /&gt;You let your tears rain down on me&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I touch your slow turning pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The finger of blame has turned upon itself&lt;br /&gt;And I'm more than willing to offer myself&lt;br /&gt;Do you want my presence or need my help&lt;br /&gt;Who knows where that might lead&lt;br /&gt;I fall, I fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I fall&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I fall&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I fall&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114532084307642142?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114532084307642142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114532084307642142' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114532084307642142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114532084307642142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-really-close-tonight-i-feel-like.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114522407988191390</id><published>2006-04-16T22:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T14:33:18.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'>dreaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sentado no pequeno sofá em frente à cama, enrolado no emaranhado de almofadas que teimava em ter como suporte ao corpo cansado dos dias, escrevia. As luzes dos candeeiros novos ecoavam suavemente em tons quentes pelo quarto, reflectindo-se nas diferentes cores que o circundavam. A janela semi-aberta era por sua vez o reflexo do seu espirito, que de novo se começava a levantar, como a fénix das cinzas, do seu leito de escuridão e tentava abraçar a vida, o recomeço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;continuava a morar na mesma casa de há anos, embora repleta de novidades era fundamentada no seu mais interior espaço pelo passado que a tinha sonhado e criado. Esta decisão tinha sido esculpida pela necessidade de se manter ali, embora fosse tempo de lutar contra a estagnação a que se votou também o era de aceitar os seus pensamentos como verdades e sobre eles fazer juízos. Sorriu ao conseguir escolher as palavras certas para o que queria demonstrar, imaginando como seria quando o lessem, sabendo a cada letra, a cada compasso, o que pretendia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fecha os olhos e sente o suave aroma do chá maçã-canela - "Há coisas que nunca mudam"- pensa em voz alta, e o som da sua própria voz trá-lo à realidade, na qual se queria embalado pela companhia de doces palavras e ternos olhos. &lt;/span&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/8665013-114522407988191390?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114522407988191390/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114522407988191390' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114522407988191390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114522407988191390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/04/dreaming.html' title='dreaming'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114405436699193160</id><published>2006-04-03T09:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T16:37:21.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Pasolini is me&lt;br /&gt;'Accattone' you'll be&lt;br /&gt;I entered nothing and nothing entered me&lt;br /&gt;'Til you came with the key&lt;br /&gt;And you did your best but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I live and breathe&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;Yes I walk around somehow&lt;br /&gt;But you have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piazza Cavour, what's my life for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visconti is me&lt;br /&gt;Magnani you'll never be&lt;br /&gt;I entered nothing and nothing entered me&lt;br /&gt;'Til you came with the key&lt;br /&gt;And you did your best but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I live and breathe&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I walk around somehow&lt;br /&gt;But you have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I that I come to be here...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I live and breathe&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;Yes I walk around somehow&lt;br /&gt;But you have killed me&lt;br /&gt;You have killed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is no point saying this again&lt;br /&gt;There is no point saying this again&lt;br /&gt;But I forgive you, I forgive you&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes I do forgive you.&lt;/span&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Morrissey - you have killed me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114405436699193160?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114405436699193160/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114405436699193160' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114405436699193160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114405436699193160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/04/pasolini-is-me-accattone-youll-be-i.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114323260293682385</id><published>2006-03-24T20:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-25T01:19:53.660Z</updated><title type='text'>pedaços</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;Adiamos tudo, até que a morte chegue. &lt;br /&gt;  Adiamos tudo e o entendimento de tudo, &lt;br /&gt;  Com um cansaço antecipado de tudo, &lt;br /&gt;  Com uma saudade prognóstica e vazia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;excerto de  O Mesmo - Álvaro de Campos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114323260293682385?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114323260293682385/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114323260293682385' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114323260293682385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114323260293682385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/03/pedaos.html' title='pedaços'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114315565357564090</id><published>2006-03-23T23:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-23T23:14:13.586Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://movies.apple.com/trailers/wb/v_for_vendetta/images2/poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://movies.apple.com/trailers/wb/v_for_vendetta/images2/poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;simplesmente um dos melhores filmes que vejo desde há muito. Definitivamente uma entrada directa para o top5!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Excelente banda sonora, a voz deliciosa do nosso tão bem conhecido &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mr. Smith&lt;/span&gt;, um casting bem conseguido e uma história que, ao invés de mais um blockbuster hollywoodesco, criou um excelente filme!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ideas are bulletproof!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8665013-114315565357564090?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114315565357564090/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114315565357564090' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114315565357564090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114315565357564090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/03/simplesmente-um-dos-melhores-filmes.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114312960290316942</id><published>2006-03-23T15:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-23T22:16:52.493Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Às vezes, em dias de luz perfeita e exata,&lt;br /&gt;Em que as cousas têm toda a realidade que podem ter,&lt;br /&gt;Pergunto a mim próprio devagar&lt;br /&gt;Por que sequer atribuo eu&lt;br /&gt;Beleza às cousas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma flor acaso tem beleza?&lt;br /&gt;Tem beleza acaso um fruto?&lt;br /&gt;Não: têm cor e forma&lt;br /&gt;E existência apenas.&lt;br /&gt;A beleza é o nome de qualquer cousa que não existe&lt;br /&gt;Que eu dou às cousas em troca do agrado que me dão.&lt;br /&gt;Não significa nada.&lt;br /&gt;Então por que digo eu das cousas: são belas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim, mesmo a mim, que vivo só de viver,&lt;br /&gt;Invisíveis, vêm ter comigo as mentiras dos homens&lt;br /&gt;Perante as cousas,&lt;br /&gt;Perante as cousas que simplesmente existem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que difícil ser próprio e não ver senão o visível! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alberto Caeiro - Às vezes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114312960290316942?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114312960290316942/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114312960290316942' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114312960290316942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114312960290316942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/03/s-vezes-em-dias-de-luz-perfeita-e.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114299605905969147</id><published>2006-03-22T02:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-23T22:12:56.606Z</updated><title type='text'>kitty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;levanto-me, numa tentativa de mais uma vez fugir do inevitável, de ti. Chego ao destino, aqueço o leite e sinto as pernas a tremer, hoje é hoje e por muito que fuja continuará a ser sempre dia 21. Um leve ronronar faz-me sorrir, lembro-me de como ele gostava de roer as sandálias consumidas pelos anos e pela vontade de sempre as usares.&lt;br /&gt;De volta não resisto, preciso de ti, sempre precisei, mais ou menos lúcido, sei-o como sei que preciso de respirar. Ofuscas quem me procura assim como o sol coloca a lua em segudo plano. Estrela que brilha e alimenta, mesmo estando distante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ronronar volta, ele parece contente com o que faço. Senta-se em cima do monitor e olha-me de soslaio enquanto passa a lingua pela pata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procuro de alguma forma abrir-me de novo para o mundo, sorri. Dei por mim a cantarolar na escola hoje, sempre de sorriso na cara e pensei «voltaste...» continuo pelos corredores fora, que há tanto ocupam parte dos meus dias e os quais estou decidido a tornar na porta do futuro, que se quer mais leve. Decisões tomadas, alegria de viver, de ter renascido... pois quando a dor se tornava fisica, a morte era ali, aquele instante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o que fica no depois? Quantas vezes fiz esta pergunta envolto em lágrimas e dor. Raiva incontrolável apenas quebrada pelas memórias... mas tudo passa, tudo muda. Hoje the little kitten ainda se chama kika, mas tem as patinhas brancas e os olhos claros. É mimada e não tão curiosa como a que gostava de se deitar na tua barriga. Mas é linda e lembra-me de ti. Também eu choro quando penso naquela pequena menina deitada na minha, outrora, prinçusa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Começo numa alegria que me consome... não consigo pensar... escrevo...vejo-te...sinto-te... assumo que queria levar este texto sem objectividade, deixar no ar ideias e vontades, subtilmente respirar o que sinto... mas a vontade já deixou de ser racional a partir do momento em que procurei por Ti, hoje. Quanto mais agora, inebriado pela sede de te tomar no meu abraço. Estendo a mão... é inevitável... quero tocar-te mesmo sabendo que não estás...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apetece-me contar-te de mim, saber de ti, ser o que for, quando for, como for... mas será que o que quero é o que preciso? Baixei as defesas há muito, talvez depois de me sentir bem comigo mesmo. Agora que para além disso consigo ver o horizonte, continuo a querer-te. Apenas não sei como.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou a escrever há horas... as ideias não são racionalizadas, são pintadas aqui em palavras. Leio-me e acho que conseguiria muito melhor, sintacticamente falando... mas o que eu quero é deitar para fora... purgar-me de algo, nem sei bem o quê! Mania de colocar as coisas de forma pessoal! O que eu queria era colocar-me fora de mim mesmo e ver-me, analisar-me ao mais infimo detalhe. Saber-me!! Se me soubesse saberia como te quero... se te quero!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malditas muralhas que outrora foram quebradas e agora reconstruidas mil vezes mais fortes. Tanto para impedir a entrada de alguém... como a saida do que restava de Ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E de novo personalizo, dizem-me para não o fazer... mas como não!? Eu sou eu... não posso fugir de mim mesmo, tenho de me aceitar a mim e ao que quero! Demência ocasional esta das últimas horas... mas boa! Fez-me abrir de novo as portas enquanto estavas de costas e olhar-te, sorridente. Sorri pelo teu sorriso, o Teu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se o arrependimento fosse um pequeno corte de papel há muito que tinha socumbido à dor de tantos... disse muito, que não devia. Infantilidades, arrogâncias, cobrei, apontei... estúpido miúdo que viu a felicidade a fugir e teve medo, de ficar só.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estava a ver hoje um episódio de Dr. House... desde os últimos tempos é a série de eleição, revejo-me naquele médico arrogante e magoado com a vida, sem pingo de interesse por alguém. Mas que neste episódio revê a ex-mulher e o mundo vira do avesso. Ela sabe como falar com ele, sabe como o controlar e direccionar. Tão bem me lembras tu... a determinada cena o diálogo torna-se o reflexo de um sonho muitas vezes tido "I'm not over you" diz-lhe ela... assim me dizem os outros, "o que tu queres é que ela volte" ... será? Continuo a procurar alguém como tu, não sei se te procuro a Ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só sei que te quero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;E agora... quero-a a ela... demais... tenho medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-114299605905969147?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114299605905969147/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114299605905969147' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114299605905969147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114299605905969147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/03/kitty.html' title='kitty'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114221332275627806</id><published>2006-03-13T01:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-17T23:33:08.533Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/Tears%20in%20pain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/200/Tears%20in%20pain.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;um sorriso&lt;br /&gt;embrulhado em lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;uma dor&lt;br /&gt;que já não dói&lt;br /&gt;apenas&lt;br /&gt;corrói.&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/8665013-114221332275627806?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114221332275627806/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114221332275627806' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114221332275627806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114221332275627806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/03/um-sorriso-embrulhado-em-lgrimas-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114048448059347186</id><published>2006-02-21T01:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-22T13:41:12.720Z</updated><title type='text'>desafio... (com lag)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Quais são as cinco coisas mais irritantes acerca de ti?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Impulsivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;cedo amiúde às vontades do momento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Overprotective&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;para com aqueles de quem gosto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Teimoso&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;irresponsável&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;esta é a pensar no Mauro e no seu "tens de começar a andar de carro mais devagar!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;sonhador&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;por vezes penso que vou ficar para sempre um menino pequenino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o desafio vai para o Mauro, a Inês (responde com acentos!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&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/8665013-114048448059347186?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114048448059347186/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114048448059347186' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114048448059347186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114048448059347186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/02/desafio-com-lag.html' title='desafio... (com lag)'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-114047218508313755</id><published>2006-02-20T21:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-02T22:48:00.763Z</updated><title type='text'>differences...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.usual-album.com/tunnel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.usual-album.com/tunnel.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A porta abre, sempre ao mesmo ritmo, esta tem menos dificuldade em fazê-lo que a chave em rodar a combinação que me permite entrar naquele pedaço de mundo que é a minha casa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Procuro os seus olhos, mas como no dia anterior, relembro-me de que ela já cá não está, decidiu-se a ir, em busca do seu eu, da sua forma de viver. Eu decidi ficar, talvez tempo demais, num passado que teimo em deixar presente em tudo o que faço. Continuo a procurar os seus olhos em todos os outros, assumo, uma loucura, uma insanidade, que até a mim que tenho todas as explicações do mundo e arredores para a manter viva, me começa a incomodar e a tomar contornos de loucura inabalável.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Este é o primeiro dia do resto da minha vida, vamos ver se ele é igual ao ontem.&lt;/span&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/8665013-114047218508313755?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/114047218508313755/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=114047218508313755' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114047218508313755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/114047218508313755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/02/differences.html' title='differences...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113918091917937376</id><published>2006-02-05T23:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-16T16:24:34.593Z</updated><title type='text'>levitando</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/solitude_tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/320/solitude_tree.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;quero ser livre e esguio&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;quero ser teu e meu,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;toque e arrepio!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;ser névoa e envolver&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;ao ritmo do teu amar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt; ser véu que cobre,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;sem nunca tapar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ao som de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DJ Cheb i Sabbah-Solace Saptak, The Samaya Mix&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113918091917937376?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113918091917937376/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113918091917937376' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113918091917937376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113918091917937376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/02/levitando.html' title='levitando'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113872166924130664</id><published>2006-01-31T15:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-01T06:51:35.886Z</updated><title type='text'>feelings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/Solitude--C10289624.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/320/Solitude--C10289624.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Fiz de mim o que não soube&lt;br /&gt;E o que podia fazer de mim não o fiz.&lt;br /&gt;O dominó que vesti era errado.&lt;br /&gt;Conheceram-me logo por quem não era e não desmenti, e perdi-me.&lt;br /&gt;Quando quis tirar a máscara,&lt;br /&gt;Estava pegada à cara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113872166924130664?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113872166924130664/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113872166924130664' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113872166924130664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113872166924130664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/feelings.html' title='feelings'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113862489017914124</id><published>2006-01-30T12:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-31T01:11:18.663Z</updated><title type='text'>you...over and over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sentado naquele sofá, copo colocado na mesa baixa, ao estilo japonês, escreve poucas palavras, na contracapa de um livro que se mantem ali, há semanas, sem que tenha coragem de lhe pegar e ler os desejos de outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"tenho tantas saudades tuas... não consigo colocar por palavras o que sinto dia após dia... noite após noite... sempre tu...nas conversas, nos sorrisos dos outros, nas trocas de olhares, ao fazer amor com outras pessoas... tu, sempre tu... não te consigo esquecer. Assumo que por vezes não quero, que preciso de ficar contigo, mais que não seja na minha memória e vontade. Outras vezes há em que não suporto a ideia de ti, magoa-me a tua existência... é nesses minutos que eu me sinto cmpletamente perdido, sem rumo e vontade de existir...tu, sempre tu, continuas a ser o meu farol. Continuas a ser a força que me dá vida... mesmo indirectamente. Culpa minha, que não suporto a ideia de te ver beijar outra pessoa... que saudade eu tenho dos teus beijos, dos teus lábios, das tuas mãos... de Ti... que saudades... as lágrimas caem, sempre que penso em ti, sempre que sinto o mundo a esvair-se em mim como se areia fosse... abro a mão, deixo a vida escorrer por entre os dedos que perderam a força e vontade de se manterem unidos. Estão hoje inertes, mortos de sentimentos e sentidos. Hoje sou um muro com uma única e minuscula porta, que só tu conheces pequena Sininho sabes e consegues entrar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a noite continua, assim como Lúcio, esperando o dia, mais um... ou será, menos um?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113862489017914124?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113862489017914124/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113862489017914124' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113862489017914124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113862489017914124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/youover-and-over.html' title='you...over and over'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113772622027876049</id><published>2006-01-20T03:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-30T22:29:15.706Z</updated><title type='text'>Amo-te Andreia.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hoje apetecia-me ser poeta&lt;br /&gt;sentir o mundo de uma forma só minha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acabo apenas por te sentir a ti&lt;br /&gt;tu, que já não te sentes sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a ti, a quem eu ainda amo&lt;br /&gt;de formas que eu nem sei explicar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a mim, a quem já não lembras&lt;br /&gt;em momento algum te faço suspirar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fujo por medo, pelo medo de não sentir&lt;br /&gt;pelo medo de não conseguir&lt;br /&gt;o mundo alcançar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o mundo és tu,&lt;br /&gt;serás tu para todo o sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deixo-me ficar nesta certeza,&lt;br /&gt;a unica que tenho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu sou assim, pequeno e estranho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113772622027876049?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113772622027876049/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113772622027876049' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113772622027876049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113772622027876049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/amo-te-andreia.html' title='Amo-te Andreia.'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113742214750375754</id><published>2006-01-16T14:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-17T04:38:19.840Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Goodbye My Lover - James Blunt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I disappoint you or let you down?&lt;br /&gt;Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.&lt;br /&gt;So I took what's mine by eternal right.&lt;br /&gt;Took your soul out into the night.&lt;br /&gt;It may be over but it won't stop there,&lt;br /&gt;I am here for you if you'd only care.&lt;br /&gt;You touched my heart you touched my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You changed my life and all my goals.&lt;br /&gt;And love is blind and that I knew when,&lt;br /&gt;My heart was blinded by you.&lt;br /&gt;I've kissed your lips and held your head.&lt;br /&gt;Shared your dreams and shared your bed.&lt;br /&gt;I know you well, I know your smell.&lt;br /&gt;I've been addicted to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dreamer but when I wake,&lt;br /&gt;You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.&lt;br /&gt;And as you move on, remember me,&lt;br /&gt;Remember us and all we used to be&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.&lt;br /&gt;I've watched you sleeping for a while.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be the father of your child.&lt;br /&gt;I'd spend a lifetime with you.&lt;br /&gt;I know your fears and you know mine.&lt;br /&gt;We've had our doubts but now we're fine,&lt;br /&gt;And I love you, I swear that's true.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot live without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still hold your hand in mine.&lt;br /&gt;In mine when I'm asleep.&lt;br /&gt;And I will bare my soul in time,&lt;br /&gt;When I'm kneeling at your feet.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113742214750375754?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113742214750375754/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113742214750375754' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113742214750375754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113742214750375754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/goodbye-my-lover-james-blunt-did-i.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113699731356558152</id><published>2006-01-11T16:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-15T21:34:26.610Z</updated><title type='text'>gosto... pois gosto...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;gosto de ti&lt;br /&gt;gosto de andar à chuva&lt;br /&gt;gosto de swings de fogo&lt;br /&gt;gosto do ar da praia num dia de inverno&lt;br /&gt;gosto do por do sol&lt;br /&gt;gosto de gelado de morango&lt;br /&gt;gosto da lareira acesa&lt;br /&gt;gosto do frio na cara de manha&lt;br /&gt;gosto do calor do meu gato no colo&lt;br /&gt;gosto de ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gosto... pois gosto...&lt;br /&gt;hoje sonhei-te... como ontem e anteontem e no mês anterior... será que amnhã também?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113699731356558152?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113699731356558152/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113699731356558152' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113699731356558152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113699731356558152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/gosto-pois-gosto.html' title='gosto... pois gosto...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113694251175578910</id><published>2006-01-11T01:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-11T01:24:29.850Z</updated><title type='text'>still ... stupidly in love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.angelstone.ca/photos/27632528-Th.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.angelstone.ca/photos/27632528-Th.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lately I've been wishing I had one desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;something that would make me never want another&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;something that would make it so that nothing matters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;all would be clear then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but I guess i'll have to settle for a few brief moments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and watch it all dissolve into a single second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;try to write it down into a perfect sonnet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or one foolish line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;'cause that's all that you'll get so you'll have to accept&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;you are here then you're gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;but i believe that lovers should be tied together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;left there to drown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;left there to drown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;in their innocence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;but as for me i'm coming to the final chapter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;i read all of the pages and there's still no answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;only all that was before i know must soon come after&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's the only way it can be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;so I stand in the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and I breathe with my lungs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;trying to spare me the weight of the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;saying everything you've ever seen was just a mirror&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;spent your whole life sweating in an endless fever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;now you're laying in a bathtub full of freezing water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;wishing you were a ghost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;but once you knew a girl and you named her lover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;autumn came, she disappeared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you can't remember where she said she was going to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;but you know that she is gone 'cause she left you a song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that you don't want to sing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;singing I believe that lovers should be chained together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;thrown into a fire with their songs and letters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;left there to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;left there to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;in their arrogance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but as for me i'm coming to my final failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;killed myself with changes trying to make things better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ended up becoming something other than what I had planned to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;now i believe that lovers should be draped in flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and layed entwined together on a bed of clover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;left there to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;left there to dream of their happiness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;A Perfect Sonnet - Bright Eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8665013-113694251175578910?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113694251175578910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113694251175578910' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113694251175578910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113694251175578910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2006/01/still-stupidly-in-love.html' title='still ... stupidly in love'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113435383571618380</id><published>2005-12-12T02:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-09T21:52:07.993Z</updated><title type='text'>semelhanças</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;CANCIONES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No tardes, Muerte, que muero;&lt;br /&gt;ven, porque viva contigo;&lt;br /&gt;quiéreme, pues que te quiero,&lt;br /&gt;que con tu venida espero&lt;br /&gt;no tener guerra conmigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remedio de alegre vida&lt;br /&gt;no lo hay por ningún medio,&lt;br /&gt;porque mi grave herida&lt;br /&gt;es de tal parte venida&lt;br /&gt;qu'eres tú sola remedio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ven aquí, pues, ya, que muero;&lt;br /&gt;búscame, pues que te sigo;&lt;br /&gt;quiéreme, pues que te quiero,&lt;br /&gt;e con tu venida espero&lt;br /&gt;no tener vida conmigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jorge Manrique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113435383571618380?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113435383571618380/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113435383571618380' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113435383571618380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113435383571618380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/12/semelhanas.html' title='semelhanças'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113410089947073889</id><published>2005-12-09T03:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-07T20:06:30.736Z</updated><title type='text'>sementes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a noite caiu há muito mas eu não durmo. Como em todas as outras noites, não durmo. Fico aqui, frente ao nada em que a minha vida se tornou até o cansaço ser insuportável e aí sim, o sono chega. Durmo, agitado, leve, nunca tive o sono leve, até que me vi sem ti. Agora não tenho razão para dormir, nem para acordar, não vejo o que posso alcançar. Eras como que o simbolo de que eu podia realizar grandes coisas, se te tinha conquistado a ti, nada era impossível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sinto a vida a sair de mim, a cada dia que passa, a cada letra que escrevo, a vida que eu tinha vai-se desvanecendo devagar. Vou ao poucos perdendo aqueles que eram importantes para mim, também porque nada faço para que fiquem a meu lado. Apenas discuto e não controlo a raiva que tenho de tudo e de todos, que tu tão bem sabias domar, com a doce voz e o olhar candido de quem me amava... como custa dizer que me amaste... que esse sentimento há muito de abandonou. O meu coração é ainda teu, temo que será para sempre, não o sinto bater desde que foste e penso que talvez te tenha mesmo entregue esse pedaço de mim. Sei-o agora, sonhei contigo, assim como o amor que sentiria por ti, que sinto. Não deites também esse pedaço de mim fora, espera que eu um dia tenha forças para o pedir de volta. Se esse dia não chegar, se eu perecer antes de conseguir olhar para ti sem te amar, guarda-o com aquela fotografia que eu tanto gostava, aquela que tiraste na porta da sala, com os cabelos compridos e a camisa preta, e na caixa escreve:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"aqui jaz o ultimo pedaço de quem me amará para toda a eternidade"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8665013-113410089947073889?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113410089947073889/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113410089947073889' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113410089947073889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113410089947073889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/12/sementes.html' title='sementes'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113408712678456825</id><published>2005-12-09T00:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-09T00:12:06.796Z</updated><title type='text'>attack!! attack!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/blog_sigur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/320/blog_sigur.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e se o diabo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;de mim se aproximar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;de bem alto lhe digo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;baza lá ó belzebu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;já sofri demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;não me venhas também tu!&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/8665013-113408712678456825?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113408712678456825/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113408712678456825' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113408712678456825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113408712678456825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/12/attack-attack.html' title='attack!! attack!!'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113311850921131226</id><published>2005-11-27T19:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-27T19:08:29.223Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/1600/indio.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3218/438/320/indio.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113311850921131226?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113311850921131226/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113311850921131226' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113311850921131226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113311850921131226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113259782454106473</id><published>2005-11-21T18:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-21T18:30:24.553Z</updated><title type='text'>sorrisos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;não acredites se me vires sorrir,&lt;br /&gt;eles são apenas mentiras,&lt;br /&gt;de todo o meu ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A única verdade em mim,&lt;br /&gt;é a tristeza,&lt;br /&gt;de não te ter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113259782454106473?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113259782454106473/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113259782454106473' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113259782454106473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113259782454106473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/sorrisos.html' title='sorrisos'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113191270185425769</id><published>2005-11-13T20:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-13T20:11:41.866Z</updated><title type='text'>pensamentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pouco há mais bonito que o corpo de uma mulher. O toque da sua pele, o suave som da sua voz que se deixa levar pelos prazeres da lascivia que toma conta dos corpos e nos leva a querer um pouco mais a cada segundo. Ser um, ser em si mesmo e no outro. Mulher alguma é mais bonita que tu.&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/8665013-113191270185425769?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113191270185425769/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113191270185425769' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113191270185425769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113191270185425769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/pensamentos.html' title='pensamentos'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113158552433425813</id><published>2005-11-10T01:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-10T01:28:23.926Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/Dark_Sleep2.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ich liebe dich&lt;br /&gt;Ich liebe dich nicht&lt;br /&gt;Ich liebe dich nicht mehr&lt;br /&gt;Ich liebe dich nicht mehr oder weniger als du&lt;br /&gt;Als du mich geliebt hast&lt;br /&gt;Als du mich noch geliebt hast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Die schönen Mädchen sind nicht schön&lt;br /&gt;Die warmen Hände sind so kalt&lt;br /&gt;Alle Uhren bleiben stehen&lt;br /&gt;Lachen ist nicht mehr gesund und bald&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such ich dich hinter dem Licht&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;So allein will ich nicht sein&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Die schönen Mädchen sind nicht schön&lt;br /&gt;Die warmen Hände sind so kalt&lt;br /&gt;Alle Uhren bleiben stehen&lt;br /&gt;Lachen ist nicht mehr gesund, und bald&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ich suche dich hinter dem Licht&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;So allein will ich nicht sein&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;Ich such dich unter jedem Stein&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;Ich schlaf mit einem Messer ein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wo bist du&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Rammstein - Wo Bist Du&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/8665013-113158552433425813?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113158552433425813/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113158552433425813' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113158552433425813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113158552433425813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/ich-liebe-dich-ich-liebe-dich-nicht.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113103467938224738</id><published>2005-11-03T16:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-03T16:21:43.336Z</updated><title type='text'>me... today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ursulakleguin.com/EricBeddows/05-Confusion.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 248px;" src="http://www.ursulakleguin.com/EricBeddows/05-Confusion.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;was there a yesterday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt; How can happiness feel so wrong?&lt;br /&gt;How can misery feel so sweet? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113103467938224738?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113103467938224738/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113103467938224738' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113103467938224738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113103467938224738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/me-today.html' title='me... today...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113087664958030841</id><published>2005-11-01T20:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-01T20:25:02.486Z</updated><title type='text'>mais um</title><content type='html'>é... mais um... este nem por isso melhor... recebi contudo uma prenda curiosa :) uma foto minha foi publicada num artigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fica aqui o link&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre wrap=""&gt;&lt;a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="http://www.familylifeabroad.com/Addiction.html"&gt;http://www.familylifeabroad.com/Addiction.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;passem o rato por cima da imagem =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113087664958030841?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113087664958030841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113087664958030841' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113087664958030841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113087664958030841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/mais-um.html' title='mais um'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113082630412227354</id><published>2005-11-01T04:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-01T06:25:04.173Z</updated><title type='text'>mais um ano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; There are nine million bicycles in Beijing&lt;br /&gt;That's a fact&lt;br /&gt;It's a thing we can't deny&lt;br /&gt;Like the fact that I will love you till I die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are twelve billion light years from the edge&lt;br /&gt;That's a guess&lt;br /&gt;No-one can ever say it's true&lt;br /&gt;But I know that I will always be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm warmed by the fire of your love everyday&lt;br /&gt;So don't call me a liar&lt;br /&gt;Just believe everything that I say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are six billion people in the world&lt;br /&gt;More or less&lt;br /&gt;And it makes me feel quite small&lt;br /&gt;But you're the one I love the most of all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're high on the wire&lt;br /&gt;With the world in our sight&lt;br /&gt;And I'll never tire&lt;br /&gt;Of the love that you give me every night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are nine million bicycles in Beijing&lt;br /&gt;That's a fact&lt;br /&gt;It's a thing we can't deny&lt;br /&gt;Like the fact that I will love you till I die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are nine million bicycles in Beijing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And you know that I will love you till I die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113082630412227354?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113082630412227354/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113082630412227354' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113082630412227354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113082630412227354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/11/mais-um-ano.html' title='mais um ano'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113038035222816191</id><published>2005-10-27T03:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T03:37:05.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>fire...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/labios3_blog_red.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the god of hell fire, and I bring you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to learn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll see you burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You fought hard and you saved and earned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But all of it's going to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And your mind, your tiny mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You know you've really been so blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now 's your time, burn your mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're falling far too far behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh no, oh no, oh no, you're gonna burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, to destroy all you've done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, to end all you've become&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll feel you burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You've been living like a little girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In the middle of your little world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And your mind, your tiny mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You know you've really been so blind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now 's your time, burn your mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're falling far too far behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OOhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to learn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're gonna burn, you're gonna burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You're gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn, burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to burn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to learn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fire, I'll take you to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Arthur Bronw - Fire&lt;/span&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/8665013-113038035222816191?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113038035222816191/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113038035222816191' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113038035222816191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113038035222816191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/10/fire.html' title='fire...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-113024845531697427</id><published>2005-10-25T14:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T14:55:49.210+01:00</updated><title type='text'>assim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/cu1_blog.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;é... sinto-me assim... preso entre nuvens que teimam em não passar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-113024845531697427?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/113024845531697427/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=113024845531697427' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113024845531697427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/113024845531697427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/10/assim.html' title='assim...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112990492128630440</id><published>2005-10-21T15:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-21T15:31:48.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/crowded_street_large.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sou apenas mais um, um daqueles por quem vocês passam e não sentem vontade de olhar uma segunda vez. Sempre me senti assim, não sei porque agora me custa tanto a sê-lo de novo... mas é aqui que reside a questão... no "de novo"... sim, porque eu já me senti a pessoa mais interessante do mundo, capaz de tudo... foi ela, que me fez sentir assim... a seu lado tudo era simples e descomplicado, a vida parecia ser algo que se podia de facto viver e não apenas sobreviver pelos cantos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo era irrelevante, todas as opiniões, como que colocado num alto local, protegido de quedas e pedras por aquela presença divinal... pelo seu sorriso imenso e os olhos... que olhos faiscantes e lindos que me levavam a sentir a pessoa mais sortuda de entre todas as pessoas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sinto-me vazio de novo, os sorrisos que se seguiram deixam-me a cada beijo cada vez menos capaz de me sentir na minha vida. Queria sentar-me num qualquer local e vê-la passar, até chegar ao seu fim e eu, feliz, ali sentado cairia com um sorriso nos lábios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei se sinto falta dela ou de quem dei o último beijo... tudo se torna confuso e complicado de perceber. Apetece-me gritar, partir coisas, enfurecer-me... mas não consigo... não quando penso nela... a simples ideia da sua existência deixa em mim uma alegria capaz de acalmar o mais negro de todos os meus demónios... a vontade de chorar volta... mas as lágrimas não correm... por vezes nem sei se o que vivi foi um sonho, de tão bom que foi, de tão forte que o senti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dói, falar assim, no passado. Queria-o presente... e hoje, hoje é para todos só mais um dia... será que ela olha para o calendário e pensa este dia? Eu, continuo a esperá-lo, mesmo não querendo, todos os meses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho medo de a ver... tanto que me sinto a desfalecer só de pensar nisso... seria talvez a pior coisa que me podia acontecer... vê-la e não a "ter"... isso pode acontecer um qualquer dia destes... sei que vou fugir... sei que não vou conseguir olhar para ela e ficar indiferente... sei que ela não me vai beijar, não me vai abraçar como eu gostava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é feliz, isso devia bastar-me, de tanto a amar devia querer apenas o que fosse bom para ela, ao que parece nunca fui... porquê quere-la de volta? Como se fosse tudo assim tão linear, como a troca de uma lâmpada, troca para aqui, volta para além...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me a pessoa mais feia do mundo, mesmo assim há coisas que me fazem sorrir. Uma das pessoas mais importantes para mim disse-me ontem "senti ciumes de tu e...", fiquei tão contente. Significa que ele está assim, a sentir... foi tão bonito vê-lo assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedi tantas vezes que me concedessem um desejo, para que eu pudesse pedir mais um dia com ela... ontem mudei essa vontade... quero um desejo sim, para pedir que todos aqueles que são importantes para mim não sofram mais, sejam felizes a partir desse instante, numa alegria constante e nirvana emocional. Talvez dois desejos, o segundo para me apagar das suas memórias e me permitir esfumar no ar, qual cinza da casca de uma castanha, que sacudimos pois o que queremos é o interior delicioso daquele fruto assado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora sim, as lágrimas correm, quando penso em perdê-los, porque eu é que ia perder se num qualquer acaso a minha existência terminasse. Não me sinto minimamente relevante para sequer considerar que ia fazer verter uma lágrima... ontem pensei nisso, como seria que ela iria reagir se num qualquer acaso eu morresse e lhe dissessem, como seria que ela se ia sentir nesse momento, sabendo que eu não me tinha suicidado num qualquer ataque de desespero mas sim num acidente de carro ou de uma qualquer forma não voluntária, será que ia chorar? Ia ficar apenas triste? Ou será que ia fazer como quando me deixou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou cansado de me dizerem "tens que ser feliz", "tens que seguir o teu caminho", "cuida de ti"... toda a noção de felicidade me soa a camisa de forças... me soa a prisão da vontade de ser dela de novo...&lt;/span&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/8665013-112990492128630440?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112990492128630440/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112990492128630440' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112990492128630440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112990492128630440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/10/sou-apenas-mais-um-um-daqueles-por.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112976298572077297</id><published>2005-10-20T00:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T00:03:05.726+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"nao consigo dormir"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as portas fecham-se quando tento entrar por elas... as portas de mim mesmo negam-me a entrada no meu ser, no meu eu que não se encontra, que dificulta a saida da magoa e evita a entrada dos sorrisos que teimam em me querer.&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/8665013-112976298572077297?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112976298572077297/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112976298572077297' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112976298572077297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112976298572077297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/10/nao-consigo-dormir.html' title='&quot;nao consigo dormir&quot;'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112895231582932493</id><published>2005-10-10T14:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T14:51:55.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'>nights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/window.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a chave custa sempre a entrar... parece que a porta não o quer ali, à sua frente. Um passo em frente e o mundo desaba, é sempre assim, o entrar naquela casa que outrora lhe trouxe sorrisos e a sempre presente vontade de lá regressar, à companhia daquela que fora o seu único amor. Descalça os sapatos no hall de entrada e ali os deixa, para amanhã voltar a calçar, numa rotina que atinge por vezes o excesso de letargia. Volta-se e dirige-se à cozinha, talvez procurar algo que possa comer. Frigorifico vazio, os pequenos imans de todas as viagens que fizeram traz-lhe de novo uma lágrima à face, volta a abrir a porta cinza e retira do seu interior uma garrafa... a sua única companheira nos últimos dias. Tinha-se cansado dos encontros esporádicos, das famosas one night stand, das conquistas efémeras e de se sentir a cada dia nesse modo de vida cada vez mais vazio e frio em si mesmo. O sofá espera-o, para mais uma noite de filmes independentes e o ardor do líquido a passar pela garganta, queimando a ferida no interior do seu peito.&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/8665013-112895231582932493?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112895231582932493/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112895231582932493' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112895231582932493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112895231582932493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/10/nights.html' title='nights'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112789592347606420</id><published>2005-09-28T09:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T09:25:23.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sentir</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; close your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; let me touch you now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; let me give you something that is real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; close the door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; leave your fears behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; let me give you what you're giving me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; you are the only thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; that makes me want to live at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; when i am with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; there's no reason to pretend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; that when i am with you i feel flames again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; just put me inside you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; i would never ever leave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; just put me inside you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; i would never ever leave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quero sentir de novo, voar como sei que sou capaz. quero conseguir baixar esta barreira que me gela o coração. Mas não sou eu que tenho de querer... alguem que me roube um pensamento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112789592347606420?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112789592347606420/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112789592347606420' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112789592347606420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112789592347606420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/sentir.html' title='sentir'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112789546807319552</id><published>2005-09-28T09:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T09:17:48.080+01:00</updated><title type='text'>from us</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; you're made of my rib,oh baby&lt;br /&gt;you're made of my sin&lt;br /&gt;and i cant tell where your lust ends and where your love begins&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you baby&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry&lt;br /&gt;and the moon gives me permission and i enter through her eyes&lt;br /&gt;she's losing her virginity and all her will to compromise&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you baby&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to fuck you baby&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to fuck you&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to fuck you but you're pretty when you're mine&lt;br /&gt;i didn't really love you baby&lt;br /&gt;i didn't really love you&lt;br /&gt;i didn't really love you but i'm pretty when i lie&lt;br /&gt;you hurt me baby&lt;br /&gt;i hurt you baby&lt;br /&gt;if you knew how much i love you, you would run away&lt;br /&gt;but when i treat you bad it always makes you want to stay&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you baby&lt;br /&gt;i didn't want to hurt you baby&lt;br /&gt;how can you do this to me now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;VAST - Pretty When You Cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112789546807319552?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112789546807319552/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112789546807319552' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112789546807319552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112789546807319552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/from-us.html' title='from us'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112782086365659934</id><published>2005-09-27T12:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T12:34:51.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>porque amar não chega</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt; here comes the rain again&lt;br /&gt;falling from the stars&lt;br /&gt;drenched in my pain again&lt;br /&gt;becoming who we are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as my memory rests&lt;br /&gt;but never forgets what I lost&lt;br /&gt;wake me up when september ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112782086365659934?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112782086365659934/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112782086365659934' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112782086365659934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112782086365659934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/porque-amar-no-chega.html' title='porque amar não chega'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112782066042160809</id><published>2005-09-27T12:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T12:31:00.430+01:00</updated><title type='text'>when september ends</title><content type='html'>"...mais do que ganhar sozinho é ajudar os outros a vencer, mesmo que isso  signifique diminuir os nossos passos..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;talvez, em determinada altura,  não devesse ter deixado de caminhar... são tantos os se's e os talves que já nem sei se o que fui é real...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112782066042160809?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112782066042160809/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112782066042160809' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112782066042160809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112782066042160809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/when-september-ends.html' title='when september ends'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112707864534585215</id><published>2005-09-18T22:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T22:24:54.386+01:00</updated><title type='text'>me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border='0' cellpadding='5' cellspacing='0' width='600'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;img src='http://images.quizfarm.com/1120686087MASCARARUN.jpg'&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; You scored as &lt;b&gt;Dirty, Black, Free&lt;/b&gt;. Your face is Dirty, face stained from tears. You are free. You aren't afraid. You can cry and scream and yell. People care - People worry. You are free. Lucky. Free. You don't care what people think and you aren't afraid to do what you like if it makes you feel good.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;table border='0' width='300' cellspacing='0' cellpadding='0'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Dirty, Black, Free&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='100' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;100%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Confused.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='83' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;83%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;In Control.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='67' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;67%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Cold as Steel&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='50' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Believer.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='50' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Trapped.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='17' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;17%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=46942'&gt;What does your soul say about your eyes?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;created with &lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com'&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112707864534585215?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112707864534585215/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112707864534585215' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112707864534585215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112707864534585215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/me.html' title='me?'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112613907823321635</id><published>2005-09-08T01:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T01:29:49.356+01:00</updated><title type='text'>leather</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/leather1.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mais um dia, aquela sensação de nada feito, de nulidade atingida pela ausência de vontade. Lúcio sai do café, onde habitualmente bebe sempre qualquer coisa que lhe permita voltar à solidão de sua casa, sempre na companhia do seu amigo, que dia após dia lhe tenta mostrar o quão bonito é viver.&lt;br /&gt;Adora aquele café, sempre gostou do estilo melancólico e obscuro da decoração mas desde há duas semanas não consegue evitar a ansia de se sentar e poder olhar para aquela empregada de longos cabelos negros e olhos de gata. Desde o primeiro dia que a viu ficou enfeitiçado sob o poder daquela mulher que se passeia como uma nuvem de sensualidade por entre as mesas. Trocam olhares, a vontade dela, que ele lhe dirija a palavra. A dele, que ela lhe deixe um guardanapo com o número de telefone ou uma morada.&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/8665013-112613907823321635?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112613907823321635/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112613907823321635' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112613907823321635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112613907823321635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/leather.html' title='leather'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112571552532244494</id><published>2005-09-03T03:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T03:45:25.326+01:00</updated><title type='text'>you are my million dollar baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"If you do this, you'll be lost. Somewhere so deep...you'll never find yourself again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alguém me devia ter avisado... antes eu me ter dado a ti por completo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só consigo sorrir ao pensar isto... faria tudo de novo, mesmo sabendo que no fim, deixaria de Ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia falámos do que a loucura do nosso amor nos poderia levar a fazer pelo outro, hoje o teu cheiro tomou conta de mim e eu sinto-me assim, teu :,)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;agora seria uma boa altura para adormecer num sono eterno, agora que o teu cheiro está aqui e eu estou feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112571552532244494?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112571552532244494/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112571552532244494' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112571552532244494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112571552532244494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/you-are-my-million-dollar-baby.html' title='you are my million dollar baby'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112560389804610021</id><published>2005-09-01T20:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T20:44:58.080+01:00</updated><title type='text'>baby steps towards madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ainda hoje passeio e te vejo por entre a multidão. Não sei que fazer para além de quase me resignar que tu és Aquela, resigno-me a cada dia que passa e eu, continuo a achar-te bonita quando acordavas, com o teu ar ensonado de princesa esperando um abraço e um carinho matinal. Ainda não te esqueci... os bonitos olhos que sorriam, o tom da tua voz, os cabelos que escorregavam pela minha mão esperando um agarrar forte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;O dançar que fluia de nós dois e fazia os outros sentir inveja, quererem estar no nosso lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foste, já não voltas, não sei. Sei que te sinto a falta, ainda, todos os dias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hoje, danço. Mas não é o mesmo dançar, é apenas um vaguear por entre o tom das notas e deixar-me ir numa vontade de sermos os dois a cantar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda me lembro da primeira que dancei para ti, envergonhado de me mostrar, pensando que ias achar completamente idiota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda, sempre ainda, amanhã será um hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/dance_with_insanity.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&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/8665013-112560389804610021?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112560389804610021/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112560389804610021' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112560389804610021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112560389804610021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/09/baby-steps-towards-madness.html' title='baby steps towards madness'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112516793422171305</id><published>2005-08-27T19:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T19:38:54.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>momentos</title><content type='html'>por vezes perco-me de mim mesmo, sou e não sou, como no anúncio. vagueio pelas palavras, pelas músicas melancólicas que teimam em querer ser minhas, mas nunca sou nada realmente, nunca tenho nada, o único pensamento na minha mente é ela, o sorriso, o calor do olhar. Saudades, sim... muitas, do tempo em que eramos os dois assim, um sorriso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112516793422171305?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112516793422171305/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112516793422171305' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516793422171305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516793422171305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/momentos.html' title='momentos'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112516317017070781</id><published>2005-08-27T18:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T18:19:30.170+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>e se me encontrares num ou noutro caminho, diz-me olá. Certamente irei sozinho...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112516317017070781?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112516317017070781/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112516317017070781' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516317017070781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516317017070781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/e-se-me-encontrares-num-ou-noutro.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112516296441888862</id><published>2005-08-27T18:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-27T18:16:04.423+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"A alma reside onde ama e não onde anima"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; Citador&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112516296441888862?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112516296441888862/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112516296441888862' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516296441888862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112516296441888862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/alma-reside-onde-ama-e-no-onde-anima.html' title=''/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112409923587881593</id><published>2005-08-15T10:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T10:47:15.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'>fados... de Coimbra.</title><content type='html'>O Sol anda lá no céu&lt;br /&gt;Tão pertinho atrás da Lua&lt;br /&gt;Também trago a minha alma&lt;br /&gt;De castigo atrás da tua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fui lavar ao Mondego&lt;br /&gt;As penas da minhas mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Minhas mágoas eram negras&lt;br /&gt;Negras ficaram as águas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh estrelinha do Norte&lt;br /&gt;Espera por mim que já vou&lt;br /&gt;Ensina-me o caminho&lt;br /&gt;Já que o luar me enganou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112409923587881593?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112409923587881593/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112409923587881593' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112409923587881593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112409923587881593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/fados-de-coimbra.html' title='fados... de Coimbra.'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112349422794751056</id><published>2005-08-08T10:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T10:45:02.876+01:00</updated><title type='text'>remembering</title><content type='html'>"É querer estar preso por vontade;&lt;br /&gt;é servir a quem vence, o vencedor;&lt;br /&gt;é ter com quem nos mata, lealdade."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quem disse que se pode amar alguém&lt;br /&gt;Durante a vida inteira é porque mente!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;será?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de zero a dez, vinte e um...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112349422794751056?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112349422794751056/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112349422794751056' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112349422794751056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112349422794751056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/remembering.html' title='remembering'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112285402602402668</id><published>2005-08-01T00:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T12:25:32.266+01:00</updated><title type='text'>hoje e ontem, um ainda semi eterno</title><content type='html'>não te esqueço, cada passo que dou se torna mais um para te recordar. Como que se todo o ar que respiro fosse um pouco da tua essência, do teu olhar amendoado que me tomava num embalo e me fazia sentir, só assim, sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho saudades de ti, da tua pele, dos teus pés que eu tanto gostava de beijar e de sentir em mim, das tuas pernas que dizias feias e eu via nelas a perfeição. Continuo hoje a não precisar de fechar os olhos para te reconhecer nas memórias, continuo ainda hoje a saber-te. Ainda sei ao que sabe o teu toque. Tenho saudades desses cabelos ondulados, bonitos como só uns cabelos teus podem ser, suaves e soltos, da minha mão a passar entre eles enquanto partiamos para mais um momento de amor, eterno dizias-me tu. Sinto a falta da tua voz que me acalmava para além da compreensão, que me levava ao sorriso mesmo quando as lágrimas insistiam em querer sair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cada corpo que passa pelo meu, mais falta sinto do teu. A cada boca que pede a minha sinto vontade de sentir o sabor que a tua tinha.  A cada momento em que num acaso ternurento me perco em sonhos de uma realidade nossa, navego por sorrisos e sinto-me de novo sem mossa, sou sem medos menino pequeno de mão dada com a sua pequenina princesa de olhos grandes, sorridentes e que solta entre dentes, patinho!! patinho!! patinho!! num frenético sentir, num fluir do ser, que se consegue ter quando temos alguém que nos leva ao que somos em nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bonita menina pequenina, de cabelos ondulantes, em meus sonhos és ainda minha e eu sou teu. Realidade esta onde ao invés de teu, fui quem te perdeu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112285402602402668?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112285402602402668/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112285402602402668' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112285402602402668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112285402602402668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/08/hoje-e-ontem-um-ainda-semi-eterno.html' title='hoje e ontem, um ainda semi eterno'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112238893324942021</id><published>2005-07-26T15:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T15:42:13.256+01:00</updated><title type='text'>e se...</title><content type='html'>e se alguém,&lt;br /&gt;agora Teu&lt;br /&gt;perguntar quem Te perdeu,&lt;br /&gt;o meu coração chora em palavras,&lt;br /&gt;fui eu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112238893324942021?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112238893324942021/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112238893324942021' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112238893324942021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112238893324942021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/07/e-se.html' title='e se...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112125303618943541</id><published>2005-07-13T12:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T12:10:36.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'>no one else... ever...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Se me esfolassem agora&lt;br /&gt;           encontrariam o &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teu&lt;/span&gt; nome&lt;br /&gt;           colado num dos meus ossos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           De mim, continuariam a nada entender.&lt;br /&gt;           Quanto a eu, sei que sou &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teu&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            - Manuel Cintra&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/8665013-112125303618943541?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112125303618943541/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112125303618943541' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112125303618943541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112125303618943541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/07/no-one-else-ever.html' title='no one else... ever...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-112052399778736315</id><published>2005-07-05T01:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T01:42:28.810+01:00</updated><title type='text'>i had a dream...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-size:11;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despite, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ésquilo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8665013-112052399778736315?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/112052399778736315/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=112052399778736315' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112052399778736315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/112052399778736315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-had-dream_05.html' title='i had a dream...'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8665013.post-111952931898438343</id><published>2005-06-23T13:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T13:21:58.990+01:00</updated><title type='text'>luxúria</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/6907-sex5.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bebo do sangue de anjos, que tentam acalmar o vazio que me consome por dentro. Sou canibal em terra de vegetarianos, deleito-me de corpos e suores, gemidos e cabelos que flutuam com o vagar do meu corpo. Tempo sem fim em luxúria sem pudores, pele contra pele, dedos que se tocam e deixam tocar, lingua que se delicia com o sabor a pecado, todos os sentidos fechados num prazer que se expõe perante mim. Olhos que procuram o seu par por entre a luz que emana das centenas de velas, acesas pelo calor da paixão, culminar de um sol que se quer continuado pela noite dentro, em formas e vontades lascivas, masoquismos...&lt;br /&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/8665013-111952931898438343?l=fados.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/feeds/111952931898438343/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8665013&amp;postID=111952931898438343' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/111952931898438343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8665013/posts/default/111952931898438343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fados.blogspot.com/2005/06/luxria.html' title='luxúria'/><author><name>o som do vento</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14648838269239302580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y253/carrilho/124978632.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry></feed>
