<?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-36616844</id><updated>2011-10-12T01:43:33.338+01:00</updated><title type='text'>jardim de memórias</title><subtitle type='html'>This is what a voice says in my head  
when I try to get peace of mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1027</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7627411874859837542</id><published>2010-06-07T15:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T15:30:58.931+01:00</updated><title type='text'>às vezes</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3ctfNh0j9OI&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3ctfNh0j9OI&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-7627411874859837542?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/7627411874859837542/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=7627411874859837542' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7627411874859837542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7627411874859837542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/06/as-vezes.html' title='às vezes'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3586365261561108703</id><published>2010-05-30T04:21:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T04:25:56.941+01:00</updated><title type='text'>One love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/TAHaoIA8kzI/AAAAAAAACY0/jhGMTCue-co/s1600/5076355.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476899004740309810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/TAHaoIA8kzI/AAAAAAAACY0/jhGMTCue-co/s400/5076355.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One love&lt;br /&gt;Coz we’re survivors making it work&lt;br /&gt;Expecting the best when they hope for the worst &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3586365261561108703?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/3586365261561108703/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=3586365261561108703' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3586365261561108703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3586365261561108703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/one-love.html' title='One love'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/TAHaoIA8kzI/AAAAAAAACY0/jhGMTCue-co/s72-c/5076355.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1659508138869794152</id><published>2010-05-29T04:17:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T04:20:42.030+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Top....</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cQyGYdRqulQ&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cQyGYdRqulQ&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&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/36616844-1659508138869794152?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1659508138869794152/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=1659508138869794152' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1659508138869794152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1659508138869794152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/top.html' title='Top....'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2809450992880898194</id><published>2010-05-18T19:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T20:02:26.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não sentir</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nunca temos tempo para nós, para nos conhecer, para ir mais fundo do que a crosta da vida, porque se pararmos, e fizermos uma incisão mais profunda, a pele ressente-se, o sangue aflora e verte-mos, literalmente tudo aquilo que escondemos, tudo aquilo que realmente somos, tudo o que deixamos para trás, e isso, pode custar-nos encarar a dura realidade, que é sermos feitos de emoções, experiencias e de medos e que não conseguimos estar sós!&lt;br /&gt;É mais fácil, confesso, ocupar-me com os outros, com outras vidas, com problemas que são pequenas manchas, pequenos pontos no mapa da nossa vida e não a vida em si. Custa-me admitir derrota, frustração e mesmo solidão. Rodeando-me de pessoas, escondo o meu eu, as minha cicatrizes, os meus pontos a arrebentar, e o sangue degradado que ficou no meio das travessias a que me propus. Fiz a incisão mais profunda, e vi-me a sofrer as dores , a resolver problemas , a dar alegria, a dar o meu ombro, o meu corpo, a minha ultima energia a outros. Estava grata por isso, mas não era o suficiente. Algum dia eu teria de ficar a sós comigo e conhecer-me. Aceitar essa que eu sou, essa que eu criei, essa que não viveu as suas emoções, essa que se escondeu num corpo estranho e viveu a vida de alguém. O primeiro corte é sempre o mais difícil, não se sabe por onde começar, se pelo fim ou pelo inicio. Somos sempre filhos de alguém, pais de alguém, amigos de alguém, familiar de alguém, conhecidos de muitos e estranhos a nós próprios. Eu escondi-me na perda da minha mãe, na felicidade da minha irmã, na alegria e bem estar dos meus amigos, no amor que eu sempre soube existir e dei-lhe vida, anulando-me.  Fui escondendo os meus eus, atrás dos eus de quem não importa realmente. Fui a amante, a degenerada, a vitoriosa, a louca, a séria e nunca, nunca, nestes momentos todos eu consegui ser eu. Estava ocupada em ser alguém para alguém. O que resta disso, é que eu sou uma estranha para mim. Por isso, quando insisti em incidir mais na ferida que trago constantemente aberta, renasci para mim. Olhei-me, aos meus olhos e não na visão dos outros. E decidi, por escolha própria, não sentir. Alhear-me dos outros, dos seus eus, e importar-me só comigo. Por isso, não sinto, não amo, não cuido, não me importo, nem quero mais viver em falso com a pessoa mais importante da minha vida, EU. Serão precisas demasiadas operações, cortes, suturas, e tempo de reabilitação. Por isso, por agora, não sinto, não amo, não cuido, não me importo. Estou sozinha, por escolha! Não sinto, por escolha! Mas vivo! Vivo todos os dias para conhecer-me melhor, para me respeitar, para me aceitar. Já cresci, amadureci, só me faltava viver. E isso é o que eu faço hoje! Alheia a outros, livre para todos e com a sólida promessa, a quem realmente tem importância… Just Me, myself and I!&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/36616844-2809450992880898194?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/2809450992880898194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=2809450992880898194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2809450992880898194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2809450992880898194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/nao-sentir.html' title='Não sentir'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1220961101847159301</id><published>2010-05-12T20:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T20:55:17.794+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Há dias assim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades, acrescentam-se os medos.&lt;br /&gt;Já ninguém faz loucuras, improvisa e simplesmente aparece, só, corpo e alma, sem porquês, simplesmente porque sim. Porque deu vontade, porque a necessidade ultrapassou a razão e os contratempos da vida. Já ninguém acredita, nem deixa o coração descompassado, marca-lhe o passo, devagar, para não doer mais tarde. Já ninguém suspira, e respira só porque ama. E a vida embrulha-nos em becos sem saída, em caminhos já percorridos, porque estes são seguros. Conhecemo-los de cor, não magoa, não abandona, fica porque fica, porque o outro lado é desconhecido, é improviso, mas no fundo o mais verdadeiro.&lt;br /&gt;Já não importa a verdade, a coerência, o impulso, a emoção. Balizamos sentimentos, acreditamos que é o melhor e vivemos sobre o estigma das escolhas, das perdas e dos desencantos. Acreditamos que o amanha será melhor e que a vida é assim. Feita de nadas, porque é isso que sentimos a cada adormecer, a cada acordar. E vivemos, sem sentir, sem permitir aquele ou outro sentimento, aquela ou outra emoção. Porque nos ensinaram a ficar, a aceitar e nunca a nos revoltar. E eu sou mais uma, no meio desta vida que aceita o que não pode, aguenta o que não quer e sonha, muito a medo, que um dia a vida se lembre de nós e nos recompense. E que tudo o que foi mitigado, escondido, tinha uma razão de ser, mais forte do que o que o coração pede. É, eu sou mais uma, que acrescento medos, escondo a vontade e sou adulta. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1220961101847159301?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1220961101847159301/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=1220961101847159301' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1220961101847159301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1220961101847159301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/ha-dias-assim.html' title='Há dias assim...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4047209970072478370</id><published>2010-05-06T02:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T02:52:53.772+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace of mind... Em qualquer lugar!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LERd2AU2s4Q&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LERd2AU2s4Q&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-4047209970072478370?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4047209970072478370/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=4047209970072478370' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4047209970072478370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4047209970072478370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/peace-of-mind.html' title='Peace of mind... Em qualquer lugar!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1411717106359988177</id><published>2010-05-02T23:01:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T23:11:44.280+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FC PORTO 3 ------- SL BENFICA 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S934dpO4vZI/AAAAAAAACYs/P_gTKxU-a_Q/s1600/digitalizar0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466798710865837458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S934dpO4vZI/AAAAAAAACYs/P_gTKxU-a_Q/s400/digitalizar0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; SIMPLESMENTE...........FANTÁSTICO!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1411717106359988177?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/1411717106359988177/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=1411717106359988177' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1411717106359988177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1411717106359988177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/fc-porto-3-sl-benfica-1.html' title='FC PORTO 3 ------- SL BENFICA 1'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S934dpO4vZI/AAAAAAAACYs/P_gTKxU-a_Q/s72-c/digitalizar0002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4924428533367173560</id><published>2010-05-01T03:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T03:22:46.507+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for us...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8TZgjXn4FT8&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8TZgjXn4FT8&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-4924428533367173560?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/feeds/4924428533367173560/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36616844&amp;postID=4924428533367173560' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4924428533367173560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4924428533367173560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/05/just-for-us.html' title='Just for us...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3416695139273736766</id><published>2010-04-27T02:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T02:38:37.146+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A água cai sobre uma lagoa, mas sem querer caem sobre os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;Agua que serpenteia e vive, morre no silêncio deste corpo.&lt;br /&gt;Corpo coberto pela neblina que deixaste presa ao meu sol.&lt;br /&gt;Sol que tarda a aparecer.&lt;br /&gt;E aparece sempre em forma de lua encoberta.&lt;br /&gt;E nessa escuridão eu sou água, vento, fogo e terra.&lt;br /&gt;Terra onde enterrei o sonho.&lt;br /&gt;Sonho por mim inventado.&lt;br /&gt;Inventado nas palavras ditas.&lt;br /&gt;Ditas sem sentido e fugaz como o tempo que as separa.&lt;br /&gt;E separo-me de ti exactamente como o rio que transborda as montanhas.&lt;br /&gt;Deixaste uma montanha para descer.&lt;br /&gt;Desço pesarosamente, mas desço, e encontro.&lt;br /&gt;Encontro no fundo dos meus olhos uma luz que não é sol, nem lua, é vida!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3416695139273736766?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3416695139273736766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3416695139273736766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/agua-cai-sobre-uma-lagoa-mas-sem-querer.html' title=''/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-490998717262159784</id><published>2010-04-27T02:27:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T02:29:45.819+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Even if is true</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cNznWCuKACQ&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cNznWCuKACQ&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só porque me esqueci de não te lembrar, lembrei para de novo voltar a esqueçer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-490998717262159784?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/490998717262159784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/490998717262159784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/even-if-is-true.html' title='Even if is true'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1642064515015731056</id><published>2010-04-26T01:30:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T01:31:41.232+01:00</updated><title type='text'>FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE......</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLn116z1q9I&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLn116z1q9I&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-1642064515015731056?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1642064515015731056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1642064515015731056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.html' title='FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE......'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4479937980880270165</id><published>2010-04-23T01:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T01:04:39.962+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Grande sexta!!!!!!!!!!!! Teve tudo....</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Irp8sxkqDbs&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Irp8sxkqDbs&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-4479937980880270165?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4479937980880270165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4479937980880270165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/grande-sexta-teve-tudo.html' title='Grande sexta!!!!!!!!!!!! Teve tudo....'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-9192593338105696358</id><published>2010-04-22T00:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T01:08:14.154+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Do way i feel, only tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QXqbkMnKj4k&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QXqbkMnKj4k&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-9192593338105696358?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/9192593338105696358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/9192593338105696358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/do-way-i-feel-only-tonight.html' title='Do way i feel, only tonight'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-926879079062420622</id><published>2010-04-21T01:37:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T01:51:30.003+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que gosto em ti......</title><content type='html'>Da tua simplicidade, é harmoniosa.&lt;br /&gt;Do teu jeito de andar com 1.91m.&lt;br /&gt;Da forma como me agarras.&lt;br /&gt;Da forma como me envolves, e eu encosto-me, segura.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de olhar para cima, porque vejo-te num emaranhado de nuvens.&lt;br /&gt;Ou quando conduzes e procuras a minha mão.&lt;br /&gt;Quando deixas pequenos beijos no meu rosto.&lt;br /&gt;Quando me pedes um abraço e colas o teu corpo ao meu,&lt;br /&gt;volto a ser pequenina.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de te apanhar a olhar para mim.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto que procures a minha mão quando andamos na rua,&lt;br /&gt;Ou que me abraces.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto do teu nariz a brincar com o meu…&lt;br /&gt;Gosto que me peças para morder o meu lábio.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto que me gozes.&lt;br /&gt;Porque me sinto leve ao teu lado.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me mais eu, mais jovem, mais solta.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de apreciar o mar contigo, encostada ao teu peito.&lt;br /&gt;Ai eu respiro fundo, liberto-me e recebo os teus beijos.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto que me afagues o cabelo.&lt;br /&gt;Que me digas que ainda sou uma”pita”.&lt;br /&gt;Mas principalmente gosto de estar contigo,&lt;br /&gt;porque tu queres realmente estar comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto porque és como és…tranquilo!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-926879079062420622?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/926879079062420622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/926879079062420622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/o-que-gosto-em-ti.html' title='O que gosto em ti......'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3243979891442153125</id><published>2010-04-18T16:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T16:28:10.631+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sooooooooooo free!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/08riCpq-cXc&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/08riCpq-cXc&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-3243979891442153125?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3243979891442153125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3243979891442153125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-sooooooooooo-free.html' title='I&apos;m sooooooooooo free!!!!!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-478252859841504553</id><published>2010-04-15T18:14:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T18:16:48.892+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha praia, a minha onda......</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LhldkEc8yyY&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LhldkEc8yyY&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&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/36616844-478252859841504553?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/478252859841504553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/478252859841504553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/minha-praia-minha-onda_15.html' title='A minha praia, a minha onda......'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4490872592719256562</id><published>2010-04-10T02:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T02:46:20.332+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que faz o corpo que jaz em calmas águas do mar? Que balança a cada nova onda, sem resistência, sem vontade… Ali, perdido entre a espuma das ondas e tão longe da praia? Deveria pedir ajuda talvez, alguém que a tirasse daquela inércia. Olha o céu azul por entre salpicos de água salgada. È para lá que quer voar, é lá que quer chegar. Deixa de respirar e mergulha. O seu corpo já não lhe pertence. Ela já não está ali.&lt;br /&gt;No momento que abandona todas as soluções, toma uma decisão. Os olhos mantém-nos abertos, porque ainda vê a luz do sol, mas deixa o corpo pesar mais que a vida e pára novamente de respirar. Há anos que procurava aquela paz, aquele silêncio, o seu túmulo, a sua partida, o seu regresso a si. Sente a vida fugir a cada golfada de água… Nada mais importa e o seu último pensamento está na água que lhe enche os pulmões, salgada, azul, escura, perfeita. Lá longe, ouve-se uma voz depois mais vozes e mais vozes, qual coro celestial, pensa. Sente o seu coração perder o tom, ultimo dos sinais da sua existência. Finge não ouvir as vozes que a reclamam, que a querem fora do seu túmulo. Tarde demais… Só quer adormecer, e por isso, fecha os olhos e sorri para o seu mar. Sem alma, sem corpo, sem vida… Por fim livre. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4490872592719256562?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4490872592719256562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4490872592719256562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4335369840447729132</id><published>2010-04-09T00:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T00:09:30.901+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Para ti</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uStP2jYLw0Q&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uStP2jYLw0Q&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="385"&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/36616844-4335369840447729132?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4335369840447729132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4335369840447729132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/para-ti.html' title='Para ti'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6209826169107712710</id><published>2010-04-06T22:26:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T22:27:26.793+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Solta-me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estou presa neste momento, neste vórtice, neste emaranhado de laços e nós cegos. Entre o que eu sou e o que eu serei. Entre a parede e a espada que me corta e despedaça todos os dias. Faço mesmo das memórias o meu único lugar seguro… A casa que eu voltava aos fins-de-semana, o beijo quente que eu recebia, o meu sótão. Horas de jantar e mesmo aquelas que eu queria dormir e tu não me deixavas. Faço destes momentos a minha chegada e nunca a tua partida, ou a minha própria ausência. Quero sentir o teu cheiro, a tua voz, a tua mão. Porque estou presa neste momento e tu salvar-me-ias. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6209826169107712710?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6209826169107712710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6209826169107712710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/04/solta-me.html' title='Solta-me'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-197215200376538324</id><published>2010-03-10T21:17:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-03-10T23:03:30.839Z</updated><title type='text'>De volta, nem que seja por segundos... saudades</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Confesso...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estava a saudade na ponta dos meus dedos, enquanto estes procuravam caracteres que fazem sentido e dão sentido à minha vida, escrever.&lt;br /&gt;Sentia falta desta voz que teima em pensar, e dar-lhe expressão própria e momento único, este jardim. Aqui eu encontro-me, perco-me e volto a mim, vezes sem conta. Não é nada de especial, são só os meus estados, o estado da vida e o que de bom e de menos bom  ela contém. É sabido que não sei pensar(escrever) sobre borboletas, jardins radiosos, e sol atestado na pele. Sei escrever sobre alma, e essa tem muito que se lhe diga…&lt;br /&gt;Por isso vou pegar nas palavras mais uma vez e matar esta saudade.&lt;br /&gt;Porque sou vazia sem este cantinho meu, porque sei que querem ler-me de vez enquando (pelo menos quando eu estou ausente).&lt;br /&gt;Não é nada de especial, sou eu, simplesmente. Eu e esta vida cheia de tudo e de quase nada. De partidas, de regressos, de encontros e esquinas perdidas.&lt;br /&gt;Ésobre o amor que se sente e se parte, dia para dia, por pedacinhos mais pequenos para durar um pouco mais, cada dia que vai em crescente para um qualquer fim.&lt;br /&gt;Ésobre o frio que sinto no corpo e neste peito que bate forte.&lt;br /&gt;É pela voz que não se ouve, pelas palavras que não se lêem, pelo silêncio na sua mais forte vertente.&lt;br /&gt;É por mim e por todos…&lt;br /&gt;Mas é mais por mim, que tenho necessidade de ti…&lt;br /&gt;Precisava de matar esta fome de negro escrito em branco, de imagens recorrentes, de uma lua que brilha só para mim. Aquele que eu encontro quando, dispo a capa, solto a voz e deixo a noite acabar em mim…com palavras.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-197215200376538324?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/197215200376538324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/197215200376538324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/03/de-volta-nem-que-seja-por-segundos.html' title='De volta, nem que seja por segundos... saudades'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3004506130857059352</id><published>2010-01-25T23:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-27T00:01:56.471Z</updated><title type='text'>The End...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1-CWuxM-zI/AAAAAAAACYU/0S0iYSRsxAI/s1600-h/encerrado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431203002655243058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1-CWuxM-zI/AAAAAAAACYU/0S0iYSRsxAI/s400/encerrado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36616844-3004506130857059352?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3004506130857059352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3004506130857059352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/end.html' title='The End...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1-CWuxM-zI/AAAAAAAACYU/0S0iYSRsxAI/s72-c/encerrado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1354721844902290777</id><published>2010-01-22T02:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-25T02:27:01.567Z</updated><title type='text'>Hope For Haiti...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="340" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rM-jjS05X3o&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rM-jjS05X3o&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="340"&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/36616844-1354721844902290777?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1354721844902290777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1354721844902290777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/hope-for-haiti.html' title='Hope For Haiti...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3618299240585099519</id><published>2010-01-21T17:35:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T17:49:12.266Z</updated><title type='text'>Presente...</title><content type='html'>No sonho que sonhei&lt;br /&gt;Mil passos eu dei&lt;br /&gt;Para te encontrar …&lt;br /&gt;Na vida que eu procuro&lt;br /&gt;És sempre tu o meu final&lt;br /&gt;O meu ideal…&lt;br /&gt;Na cama que me deito&lt;br /&gt;Sãos os teus braços que procuro&lt;br /&gt;São eles o meu deleite…&lt;br /&gt;Pelas ruas onde ando&lt;br /&gt;É o teu rosto entre estranhos&lt;br /&gt;O que eu desejo,&lt;br /&gt;O que eu sempre vejo…&lt;br /&gt;Porque não se procura quem se ama,&lt;br /&gt;Encontra-se sempre na nossa alma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3618299240585099519?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3618299240585099519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3618299240585099519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/presente.html' title='Presente...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1217716327085212193</id><published>2010-01-20T17:38:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T17:47:35.949Z</updated><title type='text'>Vou ouvindo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iTKf-ASzI/AAAAAAAACX8/hNpO9dGKdoU/s1600-h/melody_gardot-744897.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429251159384673074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iTKf-ASzI/AAAAAAAACX8/hNpO9dGKdoU/s400/melody_gardot-744897.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;MELODY GARDOT - MY ON AND MY ONLY THRILL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1217716327085212193?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1217716327085212193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1217716327085212193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/vou-ouvindo.html' title='Vou ouvindo...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iTKf-ASzI/AAAAAAAACX8/hNpO9dGKdoU/s72-c/melody_gardot-744897.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7416873092339460085</id><published>2010-01-19T17:49:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T17:58:19.518Z</updated><title type='text'>Quero SOL!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iU95r00BI/AAAAAAAACYE/aTMYtnjuVGs/s1600-h/raining.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429253141972701202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iU95r00BI/AAAAAAAACYE/aTMYtnjuVGs/s400/raining.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Estou cansada da chuva, do frio e do desconforto. Estou cansada de ver dias cinzentos, manhãs nada solarentas e este meu estado de espírito que vem com a chuva.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Preciso de sol, amanheceres azuis e entardeceres numa esplanada....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-7416873092339460085?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7416873092339460085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7416873092339460085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/quero-sol.html' title='Quero SOL!!!'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iU95r00BI/AAAAAAAACYE/aTMYtnjuVGs/s72-c/raining.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7282761827817085102</id><published>2010-01-01T18:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T18:04:19.538Z</updated><title type='text'>Desejo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iXBtBcesI/AAAAAAAACYM/oI9Y2VgFVG0/s1600-h/2010_FELIZ_ANO_NOVO.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429255406316452546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iXBtBcesI/AAAAAAAACYM/oI9Y2VgFVG0/s400/2010_FELIZ_ANO_NOVO.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36616844-7282761827817085102?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7282761827817085102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7282761827817085102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2010/01/desejo.html' title='Desejo'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/S1iXBtBcesI/AAAAAAAACYM/oI9Y2VgFVG0/s72-c/2010_FELIZ_ANO_NOVO.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-448787719377111755</id><published>2009-12-28T16:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T16:31:22.598Z</updated><title type='text'>Vou...</title><content type='html'>Vou celebrar 2009 e não lamentar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou enaltecer as pessoas e não criticar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou acreditar e não fugir, das memórias.&lt;br /&gt;Vou tirar ensinamentos e não lamentos.&lt;br /&gt;Vou solidificar a existência e não mudar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou estruturar ainda mais os laços e não quebrar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou agradecer, as lágrimas, a dor, as perdas,&lt;br /&gt;As vitórias, o amor, os amigos e a esperança.&lt;br /&gt;Vou limpar a alma e enchê-la daquele amor&lt;br /&gt;Que o ano trouxe, para ficar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou olhar as feridas e as cicatrizes.&lt;br /&gt;São elas que fazem de mim o que sou.&lt;br /&gt;Vou perdoar, mesmo sem me pedirem&lt;br /&gt;Vou amar-me, como sou, o que fui e o que irei ainda ser.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-448787719377111755?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/448787719377111755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/448787719377111755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/vou.html' title='Vou...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8678513878184791155</id><published>2009-12-24T22:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-27T22:23:21.117Z</updated><title type='text'>Noite de Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pGZH-dfnE6E&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pGZH-dfnE6E&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-8678513878184791155?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8678513878184791155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8678513878184791155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/noite-de-natal.html' title='Noite de Natal'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4927053778195352737</id><published>2009-12-24T04:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-25T04:52:52.605Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SzRE7X4toEI/AAAAAAAACX0/2BZH7VnYu34/s1600-h/69B64DAE57F62889188782D67EE6E.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419032038448406594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SzRE7X4toEI/AAAAAAAACX0/2BZH7VnYu34/s400/69B64DAE57F62889188782D67EE6E.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; FELIZ NATAL 2009&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/36616844-4927053778195352737?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4927053778195352737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4927053778195352737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/feliz-natal-2009.html' title=''/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SzRE7X4toEI/AAAAAAAACX0/2BZH7VnYu34/s72-c/69B64DAE57F62889188782D67EE6E.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6037642075094444074</id><published>2009-12-20T02:46:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-20T02:50:52.759Z</updated><title type='text'>Memórias de um BEIJO</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Riw7j9b8fM8&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Riw7j9b8fM8&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-6037642075094444074?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6037642075094444074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6037642075094444074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/memorias-de-um-beijo.html' title='Memórias de um BEIJO'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2421671960371343918</id><published>2009-12-16T02:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-17T02:00:44.263Z</updated><title type='text'>Don't, 'cause it hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ALC7kt6iUHY&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ALC7kt6iUHY&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-2421671960371343918?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2421671960371343918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2421671960371343918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/dont-cause-it-hurts.html' title='Don&apos;t, &apos;cause it hurts'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7382260173298793060</id><published>2009-12-16T01:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-17T01:59:12.045Z</updated><title type='text'>Fechado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Encerrasse as cortinas de fogo vivo, puxada por cordões ainda dourados, mas já gastos pelas mãos que diariamente abrem e fecham aquele cenário. Foi o último dia que a peça esteve em cena. Os figurantes desapareceram por entre as sombras dos holofotes agora apagados. Instala-se o silêncio onde houve risos, lágrimas, suspiros, amor e tragédia. Já não há luz, público, alegria… só aquele silêncio inquietante e perturbador de quem já teve dias mais gloriosos, de quem amou e foi amado.&lt;br /&gt;Senta-se no banco gasto e olha-se naquele espelho, onde tantas e tantas vezes se foi transformando. Um dia gueixa, outro dia Dama de sociedade, criada, amante, criança, louca, adulta, perversa, acompanhada, solitária, perdida… Foi mãe, filha, mulher, meretriz. Foi o que o público lhe pedia e o que ainda tinha de si para dar. Foi a actriz. Foi ela. Foi muitas.&lt;br /&gt;À sua volta pairam ainda os fantasmas que a acompanharam. Estão sempre à espreita, como à espera da sua “deixa”. Mas hoje acabou. Fez-se o último esforço, a última interpretação, talvez a mais verdadeira da sua vida, senão a única…&lt;br /&gt;Já não tem palco, luzes ou público. Tem–se a si. Afinal, sempre assim o foi, porque hoje seria diferente?&lt;br /&gt;Tira o resto da maquilhagem em gestos penosos, e no espelho brilham os verdes olhos, de choro ou de ilusão. E cada pedaço limpo, encontra um novo arranhão, uma nova ferida. Talvez devesse deixar-se pintada…  mas não, a vida não é assim, pensa. Tudo tem um fim. E hoje, hoje não vai ser excepção. De rosto limpo e de coração vazio, abandona este velho teatro. Foram-se as ilusões, foi-se o futuro, foi-se o seu mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Fechado para sempre. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-7382260173298793060?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7382260173298793060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7382260173298793060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/fechado.html' title='Fechado'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1723128942881154475</id><published>2009-12-15T01:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-16T01:56:34.536Z</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgias( quando era feliz e o não sabia)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbTjzZzfR7w&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbTjzZzfR7w&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-1723128942881154475?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1723128942881154475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1723128942881154475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/nostalgias-quando-era-feliz-e-o-nao.html' title='Nostalgias( quando era feliz e o não sabia)'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2796859854097087541</id><published>2009-12-08T12:46:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T12:46:39.870Z</updated><title type='text'>Second chance...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hx4RsCfL_fA&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Hx4RsCfL_fA&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-2796859854097087541?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2796859854097087541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2796859854097087541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/second-chance.html' title='Second chance...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8413404830329189543</id><published>2009-12-08T12:20:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T12:25:35.319Z</updated><title type='text'>Estado de espírito... Running Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sx5Fp6SCTuI/AAAAAAAACXs/_6fe5URsXYk/s1600-h/gril+runnig+away.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412840388467773154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sx5Fp6SCTuI/AAAAAAAACXs/_6fe5URsXYk/s400/gril+runnig+away.bmp" 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/36616844-8413404830329189543?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8413404830329189543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8413404830329189543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/estado-de-espirito-running-away.html' title='Estado de espírito... Running Away'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sx5Fp6SCTuI/AAAAAAAACXs/_6fe5URsXYk/s72-c/gril+runnig+away.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-697728870681076819</id><published>2009-12-07T12:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T12:12:36.911Z</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Foi achada no fundo do mar, perdida e esquecida no tempo, onde tempestades e calmarias a fazia correr nas estações. Ondulava num mar só seu, segura pela força e sobrevivência. Fora lá deixada sem destino, sem tempo ou fortuna, era a sua sina. Colheram-na, num dia imprevisto, de mãos hábeis trataram as mazelas feitas por aquele mar agreste chamado vida. Abriram com cuidado a sua capa, e ela esperançada, esperou que não fosse mais que uma ostra qualquer, que algo dentro de si tivesse vida e uma beleza própria. Acolheram-na. Apreciaram-na. Amaram-na…durante um tempo. Mas devolveram-na ao mar, aberta, incompleta e de novo sozinha. Pensou, de volta ao seu mar, que iria para sempre fechar. Selaria de vez, deixaria de ver o céu azul trocado pelo fundo escuro do seu mar. Porque mesmo pérola, mesmo bela, ficaria na sua cela…para sempre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-697728870681076819?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/697728870681076819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/697728870681076819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1041326221001107407</id><published>2009-12-06T12:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T12:36:15.743Z</updated><title type='text'>Holdies - Baú de memórias</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BPy-Memj0vE&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BPy-Memj0vE&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-1041326221001107407?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1041326221001107407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1041326221001107407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/holdies-bau-de-memorias.html' title='Holdies - Baú de memórias'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1098080997809490648</id><published>2009-12-04T13:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-06T13:46:35.756Z</updated><title type='text'>V.Guimarães1 - F.C Porto 4</title><content type='html'>O atual tetracampeão do Campeonato Português, o Porto manteve a perseguição ao líder Braga e fez a sua parte na noite desta sexta-feira. Embora tenha atuado fora de casa, os Dragões golearam o Vitória de Guimarães por  4 a 1, e diminuíram momentaneamente a diferença para o surpreendente primeiro colocado.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de alcançar sua segunda vitória consecutiva no nacional, o Porto subiu para os 26 pontos e ocupa o segundo posto na tabela de classificação, dois atrás do Braga. Por outro lado, o Vitória de Guimarães soma modestos 13 golos e posiciona-se no 9º lugar. Foi uma vitória justa do FC Porto, mais pelo que fez na primeira parte, durante a qual podia ter decidido o jogo, escusado assim de passar por  alguns calafrios no início da segunda parte dada a forte reacção do Vitória de Guimarães, mas estava lá  Bruno Alves que deu a "estocada" final aos 66 minutos, tendo Rodriguez confirmado a gorda vitória aos 88.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1098080997809490648?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1098080997809490648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1098080997809490648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/vguimaraes1-fc-porto-4.html' title='V.Guimarães1 - F.C Porto 4'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3969128254762131279</id><published>2009-12-01T00:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-01T00:48:50.473Z</updated><title type='text'>Desfaço-me em partículas do nada</title><content type='html'>Em feto deitada, deixo preso no silêncio o grito que sustento de uma dor que não quero.&lt;br /&gt;Atormentam-me imagens desfocadas de corpos juntos em leitos separados.&lt;br /&gt;Perco o ritmo do batimento deste coração farrapo.&lt;br /&gt;Esqueço-me quase de respirar, não vá o grito se soltar.&lt;br /&gt;E feridas abertas, fustigadas pela memória carregam-me o corpo morto deste peso que é a vida.&lt;br /&gt;Se esqueço o tempo, é porque não aguento os segundos passarem, os minutos arrastarem-se e as horas perderem-se num movimento lento.&lt;br /&gt;E de desalento vivo, de porta em porta, de procura e vazio.&lt;br /&gt;Vazio no ser que deixa a ilusão ofuscar as temeridades.&lt;br /&gt;Temo, sim, por mim, por ti, por um nós.&lt;br /&gt;Esse nó que me atravessa o corpo, debruçado na minha poça de cruel realidade.&lt;br /&gt;Porque sou real, realmente enamorada de coração estilhaçado, perdido e abandonado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3969128254762131279?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3969128254762131279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3969128254762131279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/12/desfaco-me-em-particulas-do-nada.html' title='Desfaço-me em partículas do nada'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7970861224500572947</id><published>2009-11-28T23:47:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:50:21.798Z</updated><title type='text'>Nós</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Adormeci triste, deitada ao teu lado, respiração entrecortada…Pensamentos atolados em questões e em porquês…sem resposta.&lt;br /&gt;Se por um lado, a minha sede se tinha aplacado na fonte de prazer que no teu corpo eu encontro e me perco…, por outro a solidão que vem com o sono, com a ausência do toque e a certeza que amanhã já não estaremos aqui. E faz confusão, como pode-se transformar as gargalhadas, a cumplicidade, os olhares, a entrega e o amor, em pó, cinza de novo esquecida. Apenas porque fechamos os olhos e o amanhã aproxima-se…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No esplendor do amanhecer, carrego a dor de te ver desaparecer, novamente!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;(escrito a 14 de Novembro)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-7970861224500572947?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7970861224500572947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7970861224500572947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/nos.html' title='Nós'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-37106571853152297</id><published>2009-11-28T23:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:34:16.555Z</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0egWXAPGVOo&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0egWXAPGVOo&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-37106571853152297?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/37106571853152297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/37106571853152297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1152421181587701288</id><published>2009-11-25T23:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:38:35.336Z</updated><title type='text'>Em noites de chuva...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="295" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nO7ZaraO1Iw&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nO7ZaraO1Iw&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="295"&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/36616844-1152421181587701288?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1152421181587701288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1152421181587701288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/em-noites-de-chuva.html' title='Em noites de chuva...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6763700648234450703</id><published>2009-11-24T22:59:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-12-17T13:21:21.469Z</updated><title type='text'>O que se passa na cama...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;O que se passa na cama &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;é segredo de quem ama.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;É segredo de quem ama &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;não conhecer pela rama &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;gozo que seja profundo, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;elaborado na terra &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;e tão fora deste mundo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;que o corpo, encontrando o corpo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;e por ele navegando, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;atinge a paz de outro horto, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;noutro mundo: paz de morto, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;nirvana, sono do pénis. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ai, cama, canção de cuna, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dorme, menina, nanana, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dorme a onça suçuarana, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dorme a cândida vagina, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dorme a última sirena &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ou a penúltima... O pénis dorme, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;puma, americana &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;fera exausta. Dorme, fulva &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;grinalda de tua vulva. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;E silenciem os que amam, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;entre lençol e cortina &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;ainda húmidos de sémen, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;estes segredos de cama.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Carlos Drummond de Andrade, in 'O Amor Natural' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que melhor forma de expressar toda a intensidade de um amor? Que melhor forma de te dizer, que Amo, os nossos segredos na cama, o silencio e as gargalhadas, o poder e a acção, o momento e a sua continuação?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que melhor forma de expressar a entrega, as palavras, os sons e as ilusões?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que melhor forma de te dizer, que quanto mais tenho-te, mais quero-te???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6763700648234450703?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6763700648234450703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6763700648234450703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-que-se-passa-na-cama.html' title='O que se passa na cama...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2913465407465785785</id><published>2009-11-08T21:46:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-17T13:23:20.077Z</updated><title type='text'>Não quero...</title><content type='html'>Não quero acordar mais um dia sem ti.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero ter de fechar os olhos e não seres o meu último olhar.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero outro gosto que não o teu.&lt;br /&gt;Outro ombro que me acolha.&lt;br /&gt;Outros braços que me segurem.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero outra boca que não a tua.&lt;br /&gt;Outra mão que segure a minha.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero mais andar perdida.&lt;br /&gt;Não encontrar um rumo, uma porta, uma saída.&lt;br /&gt;Quero-te sempre, a qualquer instante, a qualquer momento.&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua rua cruzou com a minha, e nunca mais quero caminhar sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;Porque cansei de olhar para o rio por onde a vida passa.&lt;br /&gt;E tu fazes-me querer viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-2913465407465785785?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2913465407465785785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2913465407465785785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/nao-quero.html' title='Não quero...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7673095809413315664</id><published>2009-11-07T22:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T22:45:12.613Z</updated><title type='text'>Seja o que for</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="340" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZmIXQVhh7g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qZmIXQVhh7g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="340"&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/36616844-7673095809413315664?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7673095809413315664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7673095809413315664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/seja-o-que-for.html' title='Seja o que for'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6605931865155078026</id><published>2009-11-05T21:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T21:36:23.903Z</updated><title type='text'>Talvez um dia,</title><content type='html'>eu consiga explicar, olhos nos olhos o que me fez mudar.&lt;br /&gt;O que foste, porque o foste e porque jamais o serás.&lt;br /&gt;Quem eu conheci, morreu no silêncio das mentiras,&lt;br /&gt;Desvaneceu o encanto, mostrando-me o lado escuro da alma.&lt;br /&gt;Se pudesse chamar-lhe desilusão, ainda era pouco.&lt;br /&gt;Traição, será talvez uma das palavras, mas mesmo assim, é pouco.&lt;br /&gt;È muito pouco.&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que à mulher, feriste a amiga.&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que o presente, inundaste de sujidade um passado.&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que perder, eu esqueci.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6605931865155078026?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6605931865155078026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6605931865155078026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/talvez-um-dia.html' title='Talvez um dia,'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4312961175744382259</id><published>2009-11-03T23:17:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-03T23:21:54.248Z</updated><title type='text'>APOEL-F.C. Porto, 0-1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SvC6wrbLiGI/AAAAAAAACXc/sThPZQHe_7o/s1600-h/485x400.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400021298670438498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 264px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SvC6wrbLiGI/AAAAAAAACXc/sThPZQHe_7o/s320/485x400.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;O F.C. Porto venceu pela margem mínima em Nicósia, no reduto do APOEL. No encontro referente à 4ª jornada da fase de grupos da Liga dos Campeões, os dragões assentaram o seu jogo na criatividade de Hulk, mas seria Radamel Falcão a resolver  jogo, no minuto 84. O avançado colombiano, após um período de desacerto na finalização, reencontrou-se com os golos. Os dragões carimbaram a passagem para a próxima fase! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4312961175744382259?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4312961175744382259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4312961175744382259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/apoel-fc-porto-0-1.html' title='APOEL-F.C. Porto, 0-1'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SvC6wrbLiGI/AAAAAAAACXc/sThPZQHe_7o/s72-c/485x400.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8738732363880046608</id><published>2009-11-01T19:41:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-12-17T13:20:53.433Z</updated><title type='text'>Para nós</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pudOFG5X6uA&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pudOFG5X6uA&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é porque alguém nos magou, não é por às vezes nos sentirmos perdidos, ou porque achamos que já nada vale a pena que devemos desistir dos nossos sonhos, da nossa vontade e principalmente de procurar a nossa outra metade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Porque hoje, no meio do cinzento, fizeste o meu dia ter uma cor diferente. Tu és a minha diferença perante a vida. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-8738732363880046608?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8738732363880046608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8738732363880046608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/11/para-nos.html' title='Para nós'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4715527087875739266</id><published>2009-10-31T02:21:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:23:47.247Z</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nunca te esqueças, que "tu és uma ínfima parte do Universo", mas foste,  és e serás sempre "uma grande parte do meu mundo".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Amo-te&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4715527087875739266?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4715527087875739266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4715527087875739266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1879303783123448420</id><published>2009-10-29T11:11:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:24:36.478Z</updated><title type='text'>HX</title><content type='html'>Um dia os seus pés&lt;br /&gt;Vão me levar&lt;br /&gt;Onde as minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Não podem chegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me leva onde você for&lt;br /&gt;Estarei muito só&lt;br /&gt;sem o seu amor&lt;br /&gt;Agora é a hora&lt;br /&gt;de dizer,&lt;br /&gt;Que hoje eu amo-te&lt;br /&gt;Não vou negar,&lt;br /&gt;que outra pessoa não servirá&lt;br /&gt;Tem que ser você&lt;br /&gt;Sem porquê sem para quê&lt;br /&gt;Sem ser necessário entender&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1879303783123448420?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1879303783123448420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1879303783123448420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/hx.html' title='HX'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7489968193990845648</id><published>2009-10-21T00:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T00:39:22.948+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Old memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/32OAMq9IPbk&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/32OAMq9IPbk&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-7489968193990845648?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7489968193990845648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7489968193990845648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/old-memory.html' title='Old memory'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3720802238745238281</id><published>2009-10-16T23:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T23:33:52.276+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que o tempo não faz</title><content type='html'>Falta-me o tempo em que sem tempo não sabia que irias estar no meu presente.&lt;br /&gt;Dragão adormecido, explode sem pena, expondo o que a alma escondia e o corpo já não lembrava.&lt;br /&gt;Não que o tempo o tivesse apagado, apenas o deixou de lado.&lt;br /&gt;Fruto de desencontros, outros amores achados, paixões vividas e frustrações acumuladas.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, vejo-te nítido, a nu e cru, a preto e branco, com todas as cores de um arco-íris que me faz sentir de novo a tua mulher.&lt;br /&gt;No meio da confusão dou com um sorriso no espelho, um brilho diferente no olhar e para o que olho.&lt;br /&gt;A minha metade, aquela que eu perdi, aquela que o tempo quis esquecer,&lt;br /&gt;volta em forma de nunca ter saído de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Vagueamos os desertos, traçamos rotas e portos incertos, para que no fim pudéssemos finalmente ter o nosso início.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3720802238745238281?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3720802238745238281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3720802238745238281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-que-o-tempo-nao-faz.html' title='O que o tempo não faz'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4994987874876195515</id><published>2009-10-14T23:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T23:40:33.642+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Intemporal</title><content type='html'>Não há melhor sensação no mundo do que ter-te nos meus braços&lt;br /&gt;Deitado na minha cama&lt;br /&gt;Cobrindo o meu corpo de chamas.&lt;br /&gt;Não há nada que me tire este momento.&lt;br /&gt;Nem palavras, nem silêncios.&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua boca pertence-me.&lt;br /&gt;Porque a minha a alma é tua.&lt;br /&gt;Porque hoje não tem amanhã nem ontem.&lt;br /&gt;Tem o que sempre teve: nós dois.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4994987874876195515?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4994987874876195515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4994987874876195515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/intemporal.html' title='Intemporal'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-415241543587714181</id><published>2009-10-12T22:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T22:36:03.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I need you right in front of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4z4U4lhVPrQ&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4z4U4lhVPrQ&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/36616844-415241543587714181?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/415241543587714181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/415241543587714181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-need-you-right-in-front-of-me.html' title='I need you right in front of me'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8619943121994510378</id><published>2009-10-07T06:17:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:26:18.754Z</updated><title type='text'>In memmorium</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SswkgAbu2AI/AAAAAAAACXU/-jzU4ManMGM/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389722986346371074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SswkgAbu2AI/AAAAAAAACXU/-jzU4ManMGM/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A mãe compreende até o que os filhos não dizem "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto falta das conversas como dos nossos silêncios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-8619943121994510378?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8619943121994510378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8619943121994510378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/in-memorium.html' title='In memmorium'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SswkgAbu2AI/AAAAAAAACXU/-jzU4ManMGM/s72-c/5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1955136312565626057</id><published>2009-10-04T23:47:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:04:02.392+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Estranha...</title><content type='html'>Minha estranha loucura&lt;br /&gt;foi tentar te entender e não ser entendida&lt;br /&gt;Foi tentar ficar contigo, fazer parte da tua vida&lt;br /&gt;Foi tentar desculpar o que não tem desculpa&lt;br /&gt;E fazer dos teus erros um motivo qualquer, razão da minha culpa&lt;br /&gt;E acho que já paguei o preço por te ter amado demais...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1955136312565626057?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1955136312565626057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1955136312565626057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/10/estranha.html' title='Estranha...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7504161958329872427</id><published>2009-09-27T14:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T14:58:35.422+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vote: a Favor da Democracia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sr9vcNOUJBI/AAAAAAAACXE/2H-tDYUTxE4/s1600-h/Leg2009.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386146209735123986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 390px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sr9vcNOUJBI/AAAAAAAACXE/2H-tDYUTxE4/s400/Leg2009.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36616844-7504161958329872427?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7504161958329872427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7504161958329872427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/vote-favor-da-democracia.html' title='Vote: a Favor da Democracia'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sr9vcNOUJBI/AAAAAAAACXE/2H-tDYUTxE4/s72-c/Leg2009.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1822985517074108218</id><published>2009-09-24T00:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T00:53:14.297+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Depois dos livros, O FILME Millennium 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SrwEwqd-VGI/AAAAAAAACW8/VvPBdxP1PEc/s1600-h/os+homens+que+odeiam+as+mulheres.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385184488508511330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 341px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SrwEwqd-VGI/AAAAAAAACW8/VvPBdxP1PEc/s400/os+homens+que+odeiam+as+mulheres.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Millennium 1 - Os Homens Que Odeiam As Mulheres.&lt;br /&gt;Título Original: Män som hatar kvinnor&lt;br /&gt;País:Suécia  Ano: 2009 Género:Thriller Duração: 152m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mikael Blomkvist é um jornalista de meia-idade, divorciado, que tem passado a sua vida a denunciar a corrupção do mundo dos negócios de Estocolmo na sua revista Millennium. Quando Henrik Vanger, um poderoso empresário, o convida para um trabalho de investigação, Mikael tem nas mãos material irrecusável. Mas para sua surpresa descobre que, desta vez, esse material não tem nada a ver com escândalos financeiros, mas com o desaparecimento da sobrinha do empresário, Harriet, 36 anos antes, num encontro de família. Com a ajuda da sua nova e rebelde parceira, Lisbeth Salander, uma hacker de alto nível com problemas de comportamento social, irão desvendar muitos segredos da família de Henrik, até o que então escondidos na penumbra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1822985517074108218?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1822985517074108218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1822985517074108218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/depois-dos-livros-o-filme-millennium-1.html' title='Depois dos livros, O FILME Millennium 1'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SrwEwqd-VGI/AAAAAAAACW8/VvPBdxP1PEc/s72-c/os+homens+que+odeiam+as+mulheres.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8685173087742959057</id><published>2009-09-19T22:28:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T00:45:04.168+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The way</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you feel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you enter to my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The wat you talk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you kiss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you look&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The way you enter to my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want you... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No matter what you do and no matter where you go...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know You and Me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't want nobody else, I don't want nobody else...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;in selfish love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-8685173087742959057?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8685173087742959057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8685173087742959057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/way.html' title='The way'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1684941539076654221</id><published>2009-09-16T16:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T16:52:10.334+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;...BELOS ARES...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1684941539076654221?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1684941539076654221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1684941539076654221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4743628347660579613</id><published>2009-09-14T00:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T00:25:57.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A gift</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq7Qymb3veI/AAAAAAAACWs/RrYANMWCVRg/s1600-h/222251_gift_box_2jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381468172483804642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq7Qymb3veI/AAAAAAAACWs/RrYANMWCVRg/s400/222251_gift_box_2jpg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Em algo tão pequeno um sorriso do tamanho do meu amor&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/36616844-4743628347660579613?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4743628347660579613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4743628347660579613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/gift.html' title='A gift'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq7Qymb3veI/AAAAAAAACWs/RrYANMWCVRg/s72-c/222251_gift_box_2jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4539063329950433322</id><published>2009-09-12T00:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T00:30:30.609+01:00</updated><title type='text'>F.C.P - Soma e segue</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381098215686202370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq2AUR925AI/AAAAAAAACWk/7lsnL7smhLk/s320/porto+leixoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;No jogo da 4ª jornada, o Futebol Clube do Porto goleu, no Dragão, o Leixões, por 4 bolas a 1.&lt;br /&gt;Foi bonito!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4539063329950433322?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4539063329950433322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4539063329950433322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/fcp-soma-e-segue.html' title='F.C.P - Soma e segue'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq2AUR925AI/AAAAAAAACWk/7lsnL7smhLk/s72-c/porto+leixoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1737042577915999646</id><published>2009-09-12T00:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T00:23:05.825+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Concerto de Moby - Fenomenal !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq1704jdHjI/AAAAAAAACWU/zYEcGGfB4lk/s1600-h/Moby_play.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381093278242119218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq1704jdHjI/AAAAAAAACWU/zYEcGGfB4lk/s200/Moby_play.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poucos artistas têm as suas músicas mais sonantes tão concentrados num só album. Neste caso, é em &lt;strong&gt;Play&lt;/strong&gt;. No Porto, foi assim.&lt;br /&gt;O álbum de 1999 foi o ingrediente que me levou ao concerto, levando-me numa viagem pelos temas como &lt;strong&gt;Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad &lt;/strong&gt;ou &lt;strong&gt;We Are All Made of Stars.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com o aproximar do final do concerto, Moby conversou mais com os milhares de pessoas que vibravam à sua frente.&lt;br /&gt;Por sentir saudades de casa, cantou e encantou com a melhor música já feita sobre Nova Iorque» : &lt;strong&gt;Walk on the Wild Side&lt;/strong&gt;, de Lou Reed/The Velvet Underground).&lt;br /&gt;Fez explodir o Parque da Cidade com &lt;strong&gt;Lift me Up&lt;/strong&gt;, cuja  a de dicatória foi exclusiva aos norte-americanos que tem passado por graves problemas. Como Moby fazia anos ouviu-se o Happy Birthday to You.&lt;br /&gt;E deu para recordar outros tempos e outras emoções à cerca de 20 mil pessoas que  tiveram uma das melhores noites, no Porto. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1737042577915999646?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1737042577915999646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1737042577915999646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/concerto-de-moby-fenomenal.html' title='Concerto de Moby - Fenomenal !!!'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sq1704jdHjI/AAAAAAAACWU/zYEcGGfB4lk/s72-c/Moby_play.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-5114111616764491941</id><published>2009-09-09T00:30:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T00:53:02.426+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A simple day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Todos temos os nossos dias, uns bons e outros nem por isso. Mas acho que é a isso que os psicólogos se debruçam intensamente para entender, as "fases lunares" da vida de uma pessoa. O dia anterior, posso classificá-lo de" assim-assim", o que estava a incomodar um pouco a minha moral, confesso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Por isso este meu novo dia, segundo as astrológias, iria continuar como o tempo. Frio pela manhã, quente pela tarde e terrivelmente arrefecido pela noite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mas há que levantar e sair do sonho e lidar com a realidade. Apetite 0, dor de cabeça, IMENSA, sorriso: nenhum! Depois do meu cappucino e uma leve leitura pela correspondência acumulada. sento-me na varanda, ouço o telemóvel, aborrecida atendo, noticia de um novo contrato. Pensei, nada mal!(Primeiro sorriso do dia). Depois resolvi fazer "gazeta". Peguei no meu corpo cansado, e arrastei-me por entre o trânsito normal. Destino: Praia do Marreco!!! (Segundo sorriso). A praia estava deserta!!!. Terceiro sorriso: Uma voz que já não ouvia há imenso tempo e que me traz sempre alegria ao coração. Depois, tarde de temperatura fantástica, boa música, que trago sempre comigo. Água explendida e o sol a aquecer-me a pele. Mais um telefonema e vejo-me no &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Coffee Break&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;/strong&gt;entre um final de tarde quente, uma excelente companhia e um vinho branco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;À noite, uma dourada ao jantar, imensos legumes e um pequeno "pecado" doce. Quando regressei a casa, sentei-me novamente na varanda e olhei fundo a lua. E pensei, que este tinha sido o meu melhor dia desce há muito tempo. Simples, aconchegante e tranquilizador. Adormeci, mas não sem pensar em quantos sorrisos e gargalhadas teria dado. Não sei! E isso é VIVER!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-5114111616764491941?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5114111616764491941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5114111616764491941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/simple-day.html' title='A simple day'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-8572036409756071707</id><published>2009-09-07T03:04:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T10:42:37.107+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Quando termina uma etapa na nossa vida, fica-se suspenso até no entrelaçar das mãos.&lt;br /&gt;E nesse momento, junta-se o passado, o presente e a ausência no futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Num hiato temporal, perde-se o medo e olha-se de frente. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No silêncio, caí com estardalhaço num coração cansado, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;a última palavra que se quer dizer: Quero-te…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-8572036409756071707?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8572036409756071707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/8572036409756071707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/quando-termina-uma-etapa-na-nossa-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6733011743835023132</id><published>2009-09-03T23:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T23:46:58.009+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pedro Cazanova Invites Andrea - Selfish Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="265" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2w--fJDFjMA&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2w--fJDFjMA&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&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/36616844-6733011743835023132?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6733011743835023132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6733011743835023132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/09/pedro-cazanova-invites-andrea-selfish.html' title='Pedro Cazanova Invites Andrea - Selfish Love'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7568619698312428014</id><published>2009-08-29T23:37:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T23:48:56.088+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mundo celebra Michael Jackson</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpxRFYgPbwI/AAAAAAAACWM/mgF8C7D8g0E/s1600-h/61445_u027905_14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376261208092405506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpxRFYgPbwI/AAAAAAAACWM/mgF8C7D8g0E/s400/61445_u027905_14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Se fosse vivo, Michael Jackson completaria, hoje, 51 anos. Os fãs não se esqueceram e prestaram homenagem ao Rei da Pop um pouco por todo o mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que uma despedida, a festa do 51º aniversário de Jackson foi uma celebração. No México, reclama-se um novo recorde do Guinness. Os organizadores do evento dizem ter reunido na Cidade do México o maior número de pessoas de sempre a dançar "Thriller": 12.937. O gigantesco número de dança aguarda agora confirmação do recorde.&lt;br /&gt;Em Londres, Paris, Bucareste, Moscovo, Barcelona e Nova Iorque, os festejos foram-se sucedendo, com muitos fãs vestidos a rigor e prontos para dançar.&lt;br /&gt;Em Nova Iorque, o realizador Spike Lee, que dirigiu o videoclip "They Don't Care About Us", realizou uma festa com mais de 10 mil pessoas, que quer transformar num evento anual.&lt;br /&gt;O rancho de Neverland e a estrela da fama de Michael Jackson em Hollywood estiveram também sempre cheios de flores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-7568619698312428014?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7568619698312428014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7568619698312428014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/mundo-celebra-michael-jackson.html' title='Mundo celebra Michael Jackson'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpxRFYgPbwI/AAAAAAAACWM/mgF8C7D8g0E/s72-c/61445_u027905_14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3595110729021481270</id><published>2009-08-26T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T23:24:06.785+01:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Regras para um homem ser feliz</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1. É importante que tenha uma mulher que faça o serviço de casa, que cozinhe, que limpe e que tenha um  bom emprego.&lt;br /&gt;2. É importante que tenha uma mulher com sentido de humor e que o faça rir.&lt;br /&gt;3. É importante que tenha uma mulher na qual confie e que não minta.&lt;br /&gt;4. É importante que tenha uma mulher que seja boa na cama e que goste de estar com ele.&lt;br /&gt;5. É MUITO, MUITO, MUITO, MUITO importante que essas quatro mulheres NÃO se conheçam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3595110729021481270?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3595110729021481270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3595110729021481270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/5-regras-para-um-homem-ser-feliz.html' title='5 Regras para um homem ser feliz'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6627568482050915919</id><published>2009-08-25T22:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T22:51:25.887+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O telescópio de Galileu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpRcvTgXy4I/AAAAAAAACWE/k_d9RoPOm7c/s1600-h/pintura-galileu-telescopio-20090825150928.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374022223119502210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpRcvTgXy4I/AAAAAAAACWE/k_d9RoPOm7c/s400/pintura-galileu-telescopio-20090825150928.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Faz hoje, 400 anos que, em 25 de agosto de 1609, Galileu Galilei apresentava ao mundo o telescópio, sua mais nova invenção.&lt;br /&gt;Apesar de a data passar despercebida para muitos, trata-se de um dos mais importantes avanços tecnológicos da história. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6627568482050915919?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6627568482050915919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6627568482050915919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-telescopio-de-galileu.html' title='O telescópio de Galileu'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpRcvTgXy4I/AAAAAAAACWE/k_d9RoPOm7c/s72-c/pintura-galileu-telescopio-20090825150928.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4348779446873497541</id><published>2009-08-20T22:39:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T22:48:13.565+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A ler: Mother Warriors</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374021229836820354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpRb1fPU34I/AAAAAAAACV8/BPO7xn8Juus/s320/41rjk2_2brpil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Esta é a história de uma mãe solteira que se depara com a realidade de ter um filho autista. Encontra o seu caminho na luta para melhorar a comunicação com o seu filho Evan. Através de experiências constantes, desde a medicina tradicional a outras medicinas alternativas, esta mãe incentiva constantemente outras mães a não desistirem e procurarem sempre respostas, mesmo onde lhes possa parecer ser impossível e acreditar que as mães são uma força incontrolável na busca de um simples olá ou de um abraço de um filho ausente da realidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4348779446873497541?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4348779446873497541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4348779446873497541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/ler-mother-warriors.html' title='A ler: &lt;em&gt;Mother Warriors&lt;/em&gt;'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SpRb1fPU34I/AAAAAAAACV8/BPO7xn8Juus/s72-c/41rjk2_2brpil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1629040223945692344</id><published>2009-08-14T01:19:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T01:37:23.976+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The true will set you free</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não pretendo ser mais ou menos moral que outros, apenas tenho dificuldade em viver quer com as mentiras e com a necessidade das mesmas. Não pautei a minha vida pela mentira em si, muito pelo contrário, raras eram as vezes que a minha mãe não apanhava uma mentira minha. Acho que nunca soube bem mentir porque me ensinaram que a verdade se descobre, mais tarde ou mais cedo. Por isso, esta minha dificuldade em viver uma mentira ou pedirem-me que minta. Sei guardar um segredo, bem fundo e calado dentro de mim, mas quando me pedem para mentir, eu tenho de entender primeiro o porquê da mentira e o que irá acontecer depois de eu assegurar essa mentira. Quando algures me pediram para mentir, vi-me sujeita a ter de mentir constantemente. E, confesso, que até agora me custa profundamente saber que mentia e a quem tinha de mentir. Por isso deixei de gostar de política, porque aquilo a que chamam “de jogos e estratégias políticas”, não passam de mentiras puras na sua essência com o objectivo de alcançar-se algo, é claro, que para beneficio próprio dos que mentem. Mas mais do que a mentira em si, magoam-me os que se obrigam a mentir constantemente, penso que deve ser exaustivo, ter de se ter uma memória constante, como se fosse um arquivo e viver com aquele medo constante de ser-se apanhado nessa mentira e ter de mentir novamente.&lt;br /&gt;Já não sei o que é melhor, se ter de mentir ou ter de aceitar que alguém nos mente e mesmo assim viver nessa mentira. Aceitar essa mentira como uma verdade absoluta ou saber que nos estão a mentir e mesmo assim aceitar essa mentira como a única verdade possível. Se calhar eu é que não percebo os códigos pessoais, os códigos que pautam a vida de muitas pessoas e entendo o mundo como algo sem necessidade de ser vivido como uma mentira, porque afinal, só se vive uma vez e que essa vez seja pelo menos o mais humana possível. Porque independentemente do medo de enfrentar-se uma verdade, deve doer muito mais viver sob o tecto da mentira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A verdade libertar-te-á. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1629040223945692344?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1629040223945692344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1629040223945692344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/true-will-set-you-free.html' title='The true will set you free'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1470217731658708353</id><published>2009-08-13T02:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T02:15:28.787+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hoje carrego uma tristeza que nem o sol e a água fazem perder a sua intensidade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hoje não é um dia bom, é cinzento o luar e frio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hoje esqueci-me de algumas razões que me separam da vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; e deixei-me mergulhar na fonte triste de não te amar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1470217731658708353?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1470217731658708353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1470217731658708353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2726004664741220703</id><published>2009-08-10T02:09:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T02:16:27.254+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um dia especial</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Após uma eternidade de tempo e esforço, nasce o Dinis, às 23h e 55 m, com 2.970kg e 48 cm de genica e vontade de viver. Nasce o meu maior tesouro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-2726004664741220703?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2726004664741220703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2726004664741220703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/um-dia-especial.html' title='Um dia especial'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-730893571785204534</id><published>2009-08-09T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T23:58:38.144+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vou ouvindo</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3EloEMyAWXA&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3EloEMyAWXA&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&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/36616844-730893571785204534?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/730893571785204534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/730893571785204534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/vou-ouvindo.html' title='Vou ouvindo'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3703455750319843444</id><published>2009-08-09T23:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T23:48:06.437+01:00</updated><title type='text'>estranha forma de vida</title><content type='html'>Que estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;Ter-te sem sentido ou razão&lt;br /&gt;Ter-te nunca&lt;br /&gt;Ter-te na imaginação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;Amar-te sem te conhecer&lt;br /&gt;Querer-te sem te ver&lt;br /&gt;Esperar-te a cada amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;Perdida no silêncio de um olhar&lt;br /&gt;Abraçada ao infinito do teu corpo&lt;br /&gt;E mesmo assim feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que estranha forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;Olhar sem ver&lt;br /&gt;Sentir sem tocar&lt;br /&gt;Amar sem saber&lt;br /&gt;Mas por mais estranha que seja a forma de vida&lt;br /&gt;é a minha, a que eu escolhi,&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que me realiza,&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que eu me encontro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3703455750319843444?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3703455750319843444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3703455750319843444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/estranha-forma-de-vida.html' title='estranha forma de vida'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4642328996247820416</id><published>2009-08-08T23:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T23:55:07.973+01:00</updated><title type='text'>G.I Silvia?????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sn9PHUMCMgI/AAAAAAAACVs/VzVk3fas0Lk/s1600-h/S%25C3%258DLVIA%2520ANJO%25206.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368096267945783810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sn9PHUMCMgI/AAAAAAAACVs/VzVk3fas0Lk/s400/S%25C3%258DLVIA%2520ANJO%25206.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36616844-4642328996247820416?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4642328996247820416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4642328996247820416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/gi-silvia.html' title='G.I Silvia?????'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sn9PHUMCMgI/AAAAAAAACVs/VzVk3fas0Lk/s72-c/S%25C3%258DLVIA%2520ANJO%25206.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1810540393462418849</id><published>2009-08-07T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T23:55:49.641+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ausências</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Por vezes temos de parar um tempo de fazer algo que gostamos por razões que nem sempre são as mais agradáveis mas são necessárias.&lt;br /&gt;Poderia alegar falta de tempo, o que em parte também corresponde a uma verdade, mas a razão principal para as minhas ausências neste meu “canto de memórias” , neste meu jardim de memórias, reflectem-se na ausência que eu própria tive de mim. Ou seja, não por falta de memórias ou acontecimentos que me pudessem por de novo a escrever, mas sim por falta de inspiração, falta de tinta a correr nas minhas veias e por sentir que cada vez que formava uma frase esta não tinha sentido, porque eu própria já não fazia sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Por isso, ausente, não só aqui, mas também ausente na minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;E como em todas as situações, depois da tempestade vem sempre a bonança, pelo menos eu acredito que sim.&lt;br /&gt;Eis-me de novo agarrada ao teclado, com o pensamento mais rápido que os dedos, mas com um novo coração e novas inspirações, com um novo norte, um novo eu.&lt;br /&gt;As ausências nem sempre são negativas, digamos que tirei umas “férias”, onde reuni as tropas e tentei encontrar ou reencontrar-me.&lt;br /&gt;Estou de volta, diferente mas sempre única. porque só faz sentido voltar se ainda tiver algo para dar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1810540393462418849?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1810540393462418849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1810540393462418849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/08/ausencias.html' title='Ausências'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-186004656437734794</id><published>2009-07-20T22:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:28:45.150+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Faz hoje 40 anos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SmThKulkmrI/AAAAAAAACVc/NXKu90tD46Q/s1600-h/showdefotos_2007_foto1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360657030898293426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SmThKulkmrI/AAAAAAAACVc/NXKu90tD46Q/s400/showdefotos_2007_foto1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Há 40 anos, o homem chegava à Lua pela 1ª vez.&lt;br /&gt;No dia 20 de julho de 1969, os astronautas da "Apollo 11", Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins e Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin, foram os primeiros homens a pisarem na Lua, realizando um dos sonhos mais antigos da Humanidade. Este feito mudou a percepção de nosso lugar no Universo e nosso olhar sobre a Lua, até então um lugar que, por milênios, foi alvo de veneração, sonhos e superstições.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SmThT5hnK8I/AAAAAAAACVk/PbfH7-ob5QI/s1600-h/showdefotos_2007_foto3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360657188453297090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SmThT5hnK8I/AAAAAAAACVk/PbfH7-ob5QI/s400/showdefotos_2007_foto3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-186004656437734794?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/186004656437734794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/186004656437734794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/faz-hoje-40-anos.html' title='Faz hoje 40 anos'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SmThKulkmrI/AAAAAAAACVc/NXKu90tD46Q/s72-c/showdefotos_2007_foto1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2809012357062874528</id><published>2009-07-15T22:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T22:24:45.428+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Novo Ditado Popular</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Quem tem boca vaia Sócrates" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;(autor desconhecido)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-2809012357062874528?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2809012357062874528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2809012357062874528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/novo-ditado-popular.html' title='Novo Ditado Popular'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3184576878145038137</id><published>2009-07-14T23:46:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T23:53:53.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Jacek Yerka - O Pintor dos Sonhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0LdujaQuI/AAAAAAAACVM/yakMPVKrjyk/s1600-h/jacek-yerka-01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358451736981422818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0LdujaQuI/AAAAAAAACVM/yakMPVKrjyk/s400/jacek-yerka-01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Vision of a City &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Para os amantes do surrealismo, apresento Jacek YerKa, surrealista polaco, conhecido pelas suas paisagens fantásticas e chamado de"o pintor dos sonhos"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yerkaland.com/"&gt;http://www.yerkaland.com/&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/36616844-3184576878145038137?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3184576878145038137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3184576878145038137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/jacek-yerka-o-pintor-dos-sonhos.html' title='Jacek Yerka - O Pintor dos Sonhos'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0LdujaQuI/AAAAAAAACVM/yakMPVKrjyk/s72-c/jacek-yerka-01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4848943705944486785</id><published>2009-07-13T00:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T00:16:35.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Doris Lessing - O Livro Dourado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0RdQYeasI/AAAAAAAACVU/K7os-ByFuXs/s1600-h/the+golden+notebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358458325952260802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0RdQYeasI/AAAAAAAACVU/K7os-ByFuXs/s400/the+golden+notebook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Knowing was an 'illumination.' During the last weeks of craziness and timelessness I've had these moments of 'knowing' one after the other, yet there is no way of putting this sort of knowledge into words. Yet, these moments have been so powerful, like the rapid illuminations of a dream that remain with one waking, that what I have learned will be part of how I experience life until I die."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4848943705944486785?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4848943705944486785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4848943705944486785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/doris-lessing-o-livro-dourado.html' title='Doris Lessing - O Livro Dourado'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/Sl0RdQYeasI/AAAAAAAACVU/K7os-ByFuXs/s72-c/the+golden+notebook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-5362662728849163263</id><published>2009-07-02T23:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:54:52.273+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Assim vai a política em Portugal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEs0-in4eI/AAAAAAAACU0/ueiUVsLPIy0/s1600-h/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355110720573268450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEs0-in4eI/AAAAAAAACU0/ueiUVsLPIy0/s400/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Especialistas em ciência política são unânimes: o gesto de Manuel Pinho na Assembleia da República deitou por terra o que seria o momento de relançamento do PS para as próximas eleições legislativas, depois do desaire nas europeias e de quatro semanas em que tudo correu mal ao Executivo de José Sócrates. E as consequências podem não ficar por aqui...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-5362662728849163263?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5362662728849163263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5362662728849163263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/assim-vai-politica-em-portugal.html' title='Assim vai a política em Portugal'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEs0-in4eI/AAAAAAAACU0/ueiUVsLPIy0/s72-c/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-5335545685994017231</id><published>2009-07-01T23:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:37:43.051+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A small prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;That you may fall asleep peaceful, because in my prayer you will be with us again tomorrow, my king.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-5335545685994017231?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5335545685994017231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/5335545685994017231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/07/small-prayer.html' title='A small prayer'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-7446627799179250634</id><published>2009-06-28T23:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:28:56.204+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The man next door</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEo8mVO82I/AAAAAAAACUs/FyYv-Lytr1A/s1600-h/o+verdadeiro+gato.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355106453467100002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEo8mVO82I/AAAAAAAACUs/FyYv-Lytr1A/s400/o+verdadeiro+gato.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; O verdadeiro "GATO"&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/36616844-7446627799179250634?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7446627799179250634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/7446627799179250634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/man-next-door.html' title='The man next door'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEo8mVO82I/AAAAAAAACUs/FyYv-Lytr1A/s72-c/o+verdadeiro+gato.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3087681572988420458</id><published>2009-06-26T23:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:25:26.667+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O céu ganhou uma nova estrela</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEnrztvU6I/AAAAAAAACUk/rwyUQ0dKnv4/s1600-h/MichaelJacksonDancando1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355105065490142114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEnrztvU6I/AAAAAAAACUk/rwyUQ0dKnv4/s400/MichaelJacksonDancando1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Como todos os génios, a sua loucura transformou-o num ser estranho e quase irreal, algo que nunca quis tomar grande conhecimento, preferi sempre guardar na memória a sua imagem de cantor menino e dançarino magnífico e um performance fabuloso.Foi símbolo da minha geração e será o mito de gerações futuras. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3087681572988420458?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3087681572988420458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3087681572988420458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-ceu-ganhou-uma-nova-estrela.html' title='O céu ganhou uma nova estrela'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SlEnrztvU6I/AAAAAAAACUk/rwyUQ0dKnv4/s72-c/MichaelJacksonDancando1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3279669693494882863</id><published>2009-06-25T23:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T23:19:44.819+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lei de Murphy sobre os Homens</title><content type='html'>1 - Os homens simpáticos são feios.&lt;br /&gt;2 - Os homens bonitos não são simpáticos.&lt;br /&gt;3 - Os homens bonitos e simpáticos são gays.&lt;br /&gt;4 - Os homens bonitos, simpáticos e heterossexuais estão casados.&lt;br /&gt;5 - Os homens que não são lá muito bonitos, mas são simpáticos, heterossexuais e que não estão casados, não têm dinheiro.&lt;br /&gt;6 - Os homens que não são lá muito bonitos, mas são simpáticos, heterossexuais, não estão casados, mas têm dinheiro, pensam que andamos atrás deles pelo dinheiro.&lt;br /&gt;7 - Os homens bonitos, simpáticos, heterossexuais, mas sem dinheiro, andam atrás do dinheiro da mulher.&lt;br /&gt;8 - Os homens bonitos que não são lá muito simpáticos, mas são heterossexuais e não ligam para o dinheiro, acham que a mulher não é suficientemente bonita.&lt;br /&gt;9 - Os homens bonitos, simpáticos, heterossexuais, não casados, com dinheiro e que acham que somos lindas, são covardes.&lt;br /&gt;10 - Os homens ligeiramente bonitos, algo simpáticos, não casados, com algum dinheiro e, graças a Deus, heterossexuais, que nos acham lindas, são tímidos e nunca dão o primeiro passo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, será que não há homens só um "bocadinho" perfeitos?&lt;br /&gt;Acho que se pode concluir que "os homens são como vinho". Começam como uvas e é dever das mulheres pisá-los e mantê-los no escuro durante longos anos até se tornarem algo que vale a pena apresentar ao jantar. Será?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3279669693494882863?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3279669693494882863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3279669693494882863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/lei-de-murphy-sobre-os-homens.html' title='Lei de Murphy sobre os Homens'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-2431679284224367457</id><published>2009-06-23T22:15:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T22:21:24.490+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Noite de S. João no Porto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkFHOnZIxdI/AAAAAAAACUc/iLH6-nByqVY/s1600-h/Sao%2520Joao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350636148711015890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkFHOnZIxdI/AAAAAAAACUc/iLH6-nByqVY/s400/Sao%2520Joao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S. João tripeiro é uma grande manifestação de massas, eminentemente festiva, de puro cariz popular e que dura toda uma noite, com uma cidade inteira na rua, em alegre e fraterno convívio colectivo.&lt;br /&gt;Nas ruas os foliões passeiam o alho-porro, os martelos de plástico, compram manjerico e comem sardinha assada, aliás, é com uma boa sardinhada e um bom caldo verde que começa a farra! Fazer subir balões confeccionados com papéis de várias cores que passeiam no ar como sóis iluminados sob o impulso do fumo e o calor de uma chama que consome uma mecha de petróleo ou resina. É este cheiro a gente, a manjerico e erva cidreira, é esta poesia popular impregnada do espírito folião do povo que enche Junho no Porto e se expande do coração da gente, sobe ao ar como um fogo de artifício que ilumina a noitada.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo começa na Ribeira, mas depois do Fogo de Artifício, todos os anos à meia-noite em ponto, a festa espalha-se pelos quatro cantos da cidade e só termina ao nascer do sol.&lt;br /&gt;As rusgas de São João espalham-se de bairro em bairro, de freguesia em freguesia.Nas ruas mais centrais que, nessa noite, até ao nascer do sol, registam invulgares enchentes de povo, aparecem à venda as ervas santas e plantas aromáticas com evidente predominância do manjerico, a planta símbolo por excelência desta festa; o alho-porro, os cravos e a erva-cidreira. E para espantar o cansaço vai-se parando nos bailaricos de bairro, salta-se a fogueira e pára-se nas tasquinhas que se espalham pela cidade!&lt;br /&gt;E no Porto a festa tem como ponto de honra as Cascatas S. Joaninas (colocar a imagem do Santo num altar com o seu inseparável carneirinho e um sem fim de elementos que simbolizam o arraial) e que servem de disputa entre freguesias e bairros num concursos de beleza e homenagem&lt;br /&gt;Manda a tradição que a festa culmine com um banho de mar na Foz!&lt;br /&gt;A festa de São João dá inicio às festas do Verão, daí as fogueiras e todas as "loucuras" da noite deste santo popular.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-2431679284224367457?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2431679284224367457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/2431679284224367457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/noite-de-s-joao-no-porto.html' title='Noite de S. João no Porto'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkFHOnZIxdI/AAAAAAAACUc/iLH6-nByqVY/s72-c/Sao%2520Joao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1467973858126559219</id><published>2009-06-22T23:01:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:03:48.982+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye my lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/idd_92ajjwY&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/idd_92ajjwY&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&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/36616844-1467973858126559219?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1467973858126559219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1467973858126559219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/goodbye-my-lover.html' title='Goodbye my lover'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-507855479871173062</id><published>2009-06-20T23:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:15:12.085+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Porque é fim de semana...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkACVG5ahzI/AAAAAAAACUE/LHObHXXm1hc/s1600-h/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350278918968084274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkACVG5ahzI/AAAAAAAACUE/LHObHXXm1hc/s400/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg" 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/36616844-507855479871173062?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/507855479871173062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/507855479871173062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/porque-e-fim-de-semana.html' title='Porque é fim de semana...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkACVG5ahzI/AAAAAAAACUE/LHObHXXm1hc/s72-c/MaSDominicalBeach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3235813328651224914</id><published>2009-06-18T23:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:12:10.796+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To my beloved sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350277478301225218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkABBP_q0QI/AAAAAAAACT0/dLJ-daUtfCg/s400/single-rose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Cause a single rose can be a little garden. And that's the way I love you, in an simple form but complete.&lt;br /&gt;You are my secret treasure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-3235813328651224914?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3235813328651224914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3235813328651224914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-my-beloved-sister.html' title='To my beloved sister'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SkABBP_q0QI/AAAAAAAACT0/dLJ-daUtfCg/s72-c/single-rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6516857346372079136</id><published>2009-06-17T13:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:23:13.342+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Foste</title><content type='html'>Amei-te com a força das marés, com os tormentos dos navegadores, com o medo sempre de te perder se conseguisse chegar à praia.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te entre a chuva, a água que cobria o meu corpo e a lama que salpicava no meu andar.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te com a força das árvores, do vento que as atormenta e fustiga os seus galhos partidos.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te com o calor do fogo, nas labaredas que o vento dança, nas cinzas de cada amanhecer.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te com o cheiro da terra, envolta de prados primaveris e estios abrasadores.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te nas mãos, no corpo, na face e no coração.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te como senão houvesse amanha, ontem ou hoje.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te porque tinha de te ter amado.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te porque me estavas traçado.&lt;br /&gt;Amei-te de forma tal, que deixei que esse amor morresse nos intervalos da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Porque não bastou amar-te, porque simplesmente não era para durar.&lt;br /&gt;Foste as quatro estações num só momento.&lt;br /&gt;Foste os rios, mares e pequenos riachos que correram nas minhas veias.&lt;br /&gt;Foste ruído, silêncio, paz e guerra.&lt;br /&gt;Foste porque quis que tivesses sido.&lt;br /&gt;Foste, simplesmente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6516857346372079136?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6516857346372079136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6516857346372079136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/foste.html' title='Foste'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1713036476842142388</id><published>2009-06-16T13:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:12:16.617+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A madrugada invade-me o sono, teimo em cerrar os olhos, forçá-los a esquecer. Vejo-me inerte, tentando criar uma ilusão de conforto por entre os lençóis. Não é frio nem tão pouco calor o que sinto, apenas, não consigo fechar os olhos. Estes mantêm-se teimosamente despertos com a inquietude do meu corpo, dos pensamentos, da ferida aberta que lateja em cada entrada de ar nos meus pulmões.&lt;br /&gt;Desisti há muito buscar-te no passado. Mas mantenho esta ferida extensamente aberta. Será que algum dia a conseguirei fechar? Será que alguma noite terei o descanso de não sonhar?&lt;br /&gt;Será que alguma vez eu deixarei de simplesmente sentir-te e aprenderei a viver com o que ficou, com este traço de dor que percorre os meus pesadelos e assombra a minha existência?&lt;br /&gt;Talvez um dia, uma outra noite, um outro tempo… Mas não hoje!&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/36616844-1713036476842142388?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1713036476842142388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1713036476842142388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/dor.html' title='Dor'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4777866185017336665</id><published>2009-06-15T13:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:46:31.077+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Escolhas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nunca tive receio das minhas escolhas, mesmo que não conseguisse ver o caminho que me era traçado pela opção. Sempre fui decidida. Se havia algo que eu ansiava, eu lutava, eu virava o mundo, eu corria atrás. Está na minha forma de ser, na personalidade, na força e por vezes na própria vaidade, confesso.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho pensado no que poderia ter feito para não entrar em determinados atalhos, seguir outras pegadas, correr para uma outra luz. Hoje, chego à conclusão que era a vencida antes mesmo de entrar em algumas batalhas. Porque realmente aquela não era só a minha guerra, a minha escolha, o meu caminho. Era nossa! E Tu, deixaste-me pelo caminho. Sem faro, sem norte, sem volta…perdida.&lt;br /&gt;Por isso, hoje tenho de escolher. Hoje tenho de decidir. Hoje tenho de ir embora. É novamente a ilusão, falsas profecias e desencontros naturais. Por isso parto. Certa que acompanharás a minha vida, mas de longe, o mais longe possível, porque não suporto a ideia de trilhar um novo caminho onde de novo serei abandonada. Vou deixar-te pairar no meu mundo, mas não te deixarei entrar de novo nele. Eu escolho-me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4777866185017336665?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4777866185017336665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4777866185017336665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/escolhas.html' title='Escolhas'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-9188888779160678270</id><published>2009-06-05T21:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T21:51:29.117+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dying lady</title><content type='html'>And like a dying lady, lean and pale,&lt;br /&gt;Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,&lt;br /&gt;Out of her chamber, led by the insane&lt;br /&gt;And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,&lt;br /&gt;The moon arose up in the murky East,&lt;br /&gt;A white and shapeless mass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Percy Bysshe Shelley&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-9188888779160678270?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/9188888779160678270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/9188888779160678270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/dying-lady.html' title='Dying lady'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-4577090421844987149</id><published>2009-06-05T00:36:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T17:30:13.626+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SilH3ndOmII/AAAAAAAACTs/VezJukwwL1k/s1600-h/tn2_american_beauty_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343881453661755522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SilH3ndOmII/AAAAAAAACTs/VezJukwwL1k/s200/tn2_american_beauty_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;De&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ixem a tumba fechada, não quero ver lágrimas. Espalhem pétalas no meu leito, quero levar a primavera comigo. Caminhem em passadas largas e selem a minha nova morada, tão veloz como foi a vida. Abandonem o corpo, porque a alma já lá não está. Vivam só das memórias boas: os risos dados e os afectos trocados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Porque o tempo não pára, e eu já não tenho pressa em chegar a lugar algum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi fado traçado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi breve mas vivido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-4577090421844987149?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4577090421844987149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/4577090421844987149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SilH3ndOmII/AAAAAAAACTs/VezJukwwL1k/s72-c/tn2_american_beauty_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-1576952216493976131</id><published>2009-06-04T12:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T12:46:54.811+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Resquícios de ti</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Adormeci com o orvalho cravado na pele,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;cheiros de estios passados&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;envolta na bruma dos teus braços.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Corpo arqueado, sedento da tua água&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Rosto colado no teu pelo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;e carícias que me elevam.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Porque hoje eu adormeci contigo a meu lado.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-1576952216493976131?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1576952216493976131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/1576952216493976131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/resquicios-de-ti.html' title='Resquícios de ti'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-6240586513354955507</id><published>2009-06-03T23:18:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T23:22:23.515+01:00</updated><title type='text'>EntreLinhas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Quando a vida nos oferece um sonho que ultrapassa largamente todas as nossas expectativas, não é razoável sentir pesar quando o mesmo chega ao fim."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Stephenie Meyer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-6240586513354955507?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6240586513354955507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/6240586513354955507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/entrelinhas.html' title='EntreLinhas'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-3288865476841041132</id><published>2009-06-02T21:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T21:57:39.783+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia Mundial da Criança</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SiWRg-90YsI/AAAAAAAACTc/8y8fb0svg6E/s1600-h/dia+mundial+da+crian%C3%A7a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342836528789086914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SiWRg-90YsI/AAAAAAAACTc/8y8fb0svg6E/s400/dia+mundial+da+crian%C3%A7a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Com a criação deste dia,(1950) os estados-membros das Nações Unidas, reconheceram às crianças, independentemente da raça, cor, sexo, religião e origem nacional ou social o direito a:- afecto, amor e compreensão;- alimentação adequada;- cuidados médicos;- educação gratuita;- protecção contra todas as formas de exploração;- crescer num clima de Paz e Fraternidade universais.&lt;br /&gt;Só nove anos depois, em 1959 é que estes direitos das crianças passaram para o papel.&lt;br /&gt;A 20 de Novembro desse ano, várias dezenas de países que fazem parte da ONU aprovaram a "&lt;a href="http://www.junior.te.pt/servlets/Rua?P=Sabias&amp;amp;ID=203"&gt;Declaração dos Direitos da Criança&lt;/a&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;Claro que o Dia Mundial da Criança foi muito importante para os direitos das crianças, mas mesmo assim nem sempre são cumpridas.&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/36616844-3288865476841041132?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3288865476841041132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/3288865476841041132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/06/dia-mundial-da-crianca.html' title='Dia Mundial da Criança'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/SiWRg-90YsI/AAAAAAAACTc/8y8fb0svg6E/s72-c/dia+mundial+da+crian%C3%A7a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-59903903918276280</id><published>2009-05-31T22:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T22:25:32.844+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Si te vas a ir</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate la luna, no me sirve ya &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate el tiempo, para no extrañar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate el cielo, para no soñar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate mis pensamientos para no recordar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate mis lágrimas, para no llorar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir llévate tus recuerdos, para poderte olvidar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Si te vas a ir, ¡¡¡Vete ya!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pero no olvides que si te vas…..&lt;/span&gt;                             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Muy poco de mí te encontrarás.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36616844-59903903918276280?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/59903903918276280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/59903903918276280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/si-te-vas-ir.html' title='Si te vas a ir'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36616844.post-602429048585833249</id><published>2009-05-26T22:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T22:37:47.355+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dance with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/ShxhHjf8qzI/AAAAAAAACTU/e8T0rden2DQ/s1600-h/the+dance+of+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340250040570784562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 330px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/ShxhHjf8qzI/AAAAAAAACTU/e8T0rden2DQ/s400/the+dance+of+love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/36616844-602429048585833249?l=jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/602429048585833249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36616844/posts/default/602429048585833249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jardimdasmemorias.blogspot.com/2009/05/dance-with-me.html' title='Dance with me'/><author><name>SQ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05448203721042819714</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W6ugWaDPFCM/ShxhHjf8qzI/AAAAAAAACTU/e8T0rden2DQ/s72-c/the+dance+of+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
