<?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-6644270712344370824</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:55:18.870Z</updated><title type='text'>Constantes da vida</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-6480147916979439351</id><published>2011-04-11T22:24:00.005Z</published><updated>2011-04-13T22:30:04.442Z</updated><title type='text'>Extenuação</title><content type='html'>recordam-se cheiros que passam no ar&lt;br /&gt;procuram-se afectos que lembrem sentir&lt;br /&gt;faz-se um verso com a palavra amar&lt;br /&gt;nada se repete neste amaldiçoado devir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em instantes passados&lt;br /&gt;o embaraçado sorrir&lt;br /&gt;agora mudam os ventos&lt;br /&gt;o melhor é dormir&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6480147916979439351?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6480147916979439351/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6480147916979439351' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6480147916979439351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6480147916979439351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2011/04/extenuacao-recordam-se-cheiros-que.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;Extenuação&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-5466565663215509856</id><published>2011-04-11T21:59:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-04-11T22:23:19.793Z</updated><title type='text'>o contrário</title><content type='html'>curta a distância que aperta,&lt;br /&gt;burra vontade que invade&lt;br /&gt;clara de noite que alerta&lt;br /&gt;planicies às voltas na cidade&lt;br /&gt;incerta, existe um mal por perto&lt;br /&gt;ele é o lobo que cerca&lt;br /&gt;fico esperto fico alerto&lt;br /&gt;é o perigo ao contrario,&lt;br /&gt;dia algum serás caçado...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-5466565663215509856?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5466565663215509856/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=5466565663215509856' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5466565663215509856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5466565663215509856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2011/04/o-contrario.html' title='o contrário'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-3161006835171584745</id><published>2010-08-02T23:47:00.004Z</published><updated>2011-06-05T23:54:57.521Z</updated><title type='text'>"Porque sim"</title><content type='html'>fica comigo uma noite&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo um dia &lt;br /&gt;fica comigo uma vida&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo de vez&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo talvez&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo amiga&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo atrevida&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo sozinha&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo sobretudo&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo estendida&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo entendida&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo e fazemos um conto&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo de paginas vazias&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo não de simpatia&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo porque é o que eu mais queria&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo porque sim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ficamos juntos uma noite e um dia, &lt;br /&gt;fazemos uma vida de vez? talvez.&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo minha amiga atrevida sozinha&lt;br /&gt;sobretudo o resto estendida, entendida&lt;br /&gt;fazemos juntos um vazio de nada...&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo nao por simpatia, &lt;br /&gt;quanto muito empatia... &lt;br /&gt;sim é o que mais queria&lt;br /&gt;a minha melhor, mais grande explicação&lt;br /&gt;fica comigo "porque sim" &lt;br /&gt;desde pequeno o digo sem mentira.&lt;br /&gt;e porque por agora é tudo o que queria&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3161006835171584745?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3161006835171584745/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3161006835171584745' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3161006835171584745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3161006835171584745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2010/08/fica-comigo-uma-noite-fica-comigo-um.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;&quot;Porque sim&quot;&lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-5079178467464350427</id><published>2010-06-20T21:17:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-08-02T23:40:24.791Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só pra me contrariar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostava que nao existissem riquezas&lt;br /&gt;de nao as conhecer tao pouco&lt;br /&gt;gostava que nao houvessem belezas &lt;br /&gt;ou que nao as visse tao pouco feias&lt;br /&gt;gostava de belas princesas&lt;br /&gt;nao fossem de mentes ocas cheias&lt;br /&gt;posso parecer um louco&lt;br /&gt;mas gostava de ser pobre...&lt;br /&gt;pelo menos, muito...&lt;br /&gt;muito pouco&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-5079178467464350427?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5079178467464350427/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=5079178467464350427' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5079178467464350427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5079178467464350427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2010/06/so-pra-me-contrariar-gostava-que-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-8368648701542024305</id><published>2009-08-22T20:21:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-08-22T20:32:26.710Z</updated><title type='text'>You Know Your Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6Iho1V--8G4&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&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/6Iho1V--8G4&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never bother you &lt;br /&gt;I will never promise to &lt;br /&gt;I will never follow you &lt;br /&gt;I will never bother you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never speak a word again &lt;br /&gt;I will crawl away for good &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will move away from here &lt;br /&gt;You wont be afraid of fear &lt;br /&gt;No thought was put in to this &lt;br /&gt;I always knew it would come to this &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have never been so swell &lt;br /&gt;I have never failed to feel &lt;br /&gt;Pain &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Know you're Right &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so warm and calm inside &lt;br /&gt;I no longer have to hide &lt;br /&gt;Let's talk about someone else &lt;br /&gt;Steaming soup against her mouth &lt;br /&gt;Nothing really bothers her &lt;br /&gt;She just wants to love herself &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will move away from here &lt;br /&gt;You wont be afraid of fear &lt;br /&gt;No thought was put into this &lt;br /&gt;I always knew to come like this &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have never been so swell &lt;br /&gt;I have never failed to feel &lt;br /&gt;Pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know Your Right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nirvana - You Know You're Right&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8368648701542024305?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8368648701542024305/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8368648701542024305' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8368648701542024305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8368648701542024305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-know-your-rights.html' title='You Know Your Right'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-3748863913114988937</id><published>2009-08-19T12:37:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-08-19T12:39:06.474Z</updated><title type='text'>...palavras leva-as o vento e o resto o tempo</title><content type='html'>Sonhei sem sono&lt;br /&gt;Escrevi sem papel&lt;br /&gt;Toquei sem sentir&lt;br /&gt;Senti sem pensar&lt;br /&gt;O que pensei sem ti…&lt;br /&gt;Perdi-me ao acordar&lt;br /&gt;Despertei ao adormecer&lt;br /&gt;Voltarei a sonhar &lt;br /&gt;Um dia, quando voltares…&lt;br /&gt;Ou então não…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3748863913114988937?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3748863913114988937/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3748863913114988937' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3748863913114988937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3748863913114988937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2009/08/palavras-leva-as-o-vento-e-o-resto-o.html' title='...palavras leva-as o vento e o resto o tempo'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-3227428572512567618</id><published>2009-07-27T01:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-07-27T01:40:21.684Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;O que há em mim é sobretudo cansaço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que há em mim é sobretudo cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Não disto nem daquilo,&lt;br /&gt;Nem sequer de tudo ou de nada:&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço assim mesmo, ele mesmo,&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A subtileza das sensações inúteis,&lt;br /&gt;As paixões violentas por coisa nenhuma,&lt;br /&gt;Os amores intensos por o suposto alguém.&lt;br /&gt;Essas coisas todas -&lt;br /&gt;Essas e o que faz falta nelas eternamente&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isso faz um cansaço,&lt;br /&gt;Este cansaço,&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há sem dúvida quem ame o infinito,&lt;br /&gt;Há sem dúvida quem deseje o impossível,&lt;br /&gt;Há sem dúvida quem não queira nada -&lt;br /&gt;Três tipos de idealistas, e eu nenhum deles:&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu amo infinitamente o finito,&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu desejo impossivelmente o possível,&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu quero tudo, ou um pouco mais, se puder ser,&lt;br /&gt;Ou até se não puder ser...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o resultado?&lt;br /&gt;Para eles a vida vivida ou sonhada,&lt;br /&gt;Para eles o sonho sonhado ou vivido,&lt;br /&gt;Para eles a média entre tudo e nada, isto é, isto...&lt;br /&gt;Para mim só um grande, um profundo,&lt;br /&gt;E, ah com que felicidade infecundo, cansaço,&lt;br /&gt;Um supremíssimo cansaço.&lt;br /&gt;Íssimo, íssimo. íssimo,&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                     &lt;strong&gt; Álvaro de Campos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3227428572512567618?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3227428572512567618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3227428572512567618' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3227428572512567618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3227428572512567618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-que-ha-em-mim-e-sobretudo-cansaco-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-8273267218584262645</id><published>2008-08-22T04:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-08-22T04:37:05.686Z</updated><title type='text'>Auto ajuda</title><content type='html'>Na nossa vida quotidiana, tendemos a ver a solidão como um fardo, um incómodo. Enchemos as nossas vidas de actividades, de passatempos, de ocupações; esquecemo-nos de como é bom estar só e em silêncio. &lt;br /&gt;Procuramos no amor um refúgio para a solidão; mas se não soubermos viver connosco mesmos, transformaremos o amor numa solidão a dois. &lt;br /&gt;Estar apaixonado é muito bonito e é bom almar alguém. &lt;br /&gt;Mas estar só também tem a sua beleza. &lt;br /&gt;Amar e estar só não são opostos: são estados que se complementam. Só quando aprendemos o gozo da solidão somos capazes de dar valor à companhia dos outros: e é estando com os outros que aprendemos a dar valor à riqueza da solidão &lt;br /&gt;"Amor, Liberdade e Solidão uma nova visão dos relacionamentos" &lt;br /&gt;from OSHO&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8273267218584262645?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8273267218584262645/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8273267218584262645' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8273267218584262645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8273267218584262645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2008/08/auto-ajuda.html' title='Auto ajuda'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-6955754629694633413</id><published>2008-04-25T15:56:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-04-25T16:02:08.424Z</updated><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pEzuC5UoM8g&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pEzuC5UoM8g&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woman take it slow&lt;br /&gt;Things will be just fine&lt;br /&gt;You and I'll just use a little patience&lt;br /&gt;Said sugar take the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Cause the lights are shining bright&lt;br /&gt;You and I've got what it takes to make it&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won't fake it, Oh never break it&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I can't take it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6955754629694633413?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6955754629694633413/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6955754629694633413' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6955754629694633413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6955754629694633413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2008/04/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-6508689845123894668</id><published>2007-12-11T05:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-11T05:33:03.192Z</updated><title type='text'>Dark Road... once again...</title><content type='html'>Annie Lennox - Dark Road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rdKQ5YI3jcY&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rdKQ5YI3jcY&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a dark road&lt;br /&gt;And a dark way that leads to my house&lt;br /&gt;And the word says&lt;br /&gt;You're never gonna find me there oh no&lt;br /&gt;I've got an open door&lt;br /&gt;It didn't get there by itself&lt;br /&gt;It didn't get there by itself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There's a feelin&lt;br /&gt;But you're not feelin' it at all&lt;br /&gt;There's a meaning&lt;br /&gt;But you're not listening any more&lt;br /&gt;I look at that open road&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna walk there by myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you catch me&lt;br /&gt;I might try to run away&lt;br /&gt;You know I can't be here too long&lt;br /&gt;And if you let me&lt;br /&gt;I might try to make you stay&lt;br /&gt;Seems you never realise a good thing&lt;br /&gt;Till it's gone..&lt;/strong&gt;Maybe im still searchin&lt;br /&gt;But I dont know what it means&lt;br /&gt;All the fires of destruction are still&lt;br /&gt;Burnin' in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;There's no water that can wash away&lt;br /&gt;This longin' to come clean&lt;br /&gt;Hey yea yea....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant find the joy within my soul&lt;br /&gt;It's just sadness takin hold&lt;br /&gt;I wanna come in from the cold&lt;br /&gt;And make myself renewed again&lt;br /&gt;It takes strength to live this way&lt;br /&gt;The same old madness every day&lt;br /&gt;I wanna kick these blues away&lt;br /&gt;I wanna learn to live again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a dark road&lt;br /&gt;And a dark way that leads to my house&lt;br /&gt;And the word says&lt;br /&gt;You're never gonna find me there oh no&lt;br /&gt;I've got an open door&lt;br /&gt;It didn't get there by itself&lt;br /&gt;It didn't get there by itself&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6508689845123894668?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6508689845123894668/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6508689845123894668' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6508689845123894668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6508689845123894668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/12/dark-road-again.html' title='Dark Road... once again...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-6982450167489237608</id><published>2007-07-15T01:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-15T01:56:06.797Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Rodrigo Leão - Pasión &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;No me olvides&lt;br /&gt;yo me muero&lt;br /&gt;Amor&lt;br /&gt;mi vida es sufrimiento&lt;br /&gt;Yo&lt;br /&gt;te quiero en mi camino&lt;br /&gt;Por vos&lt;br /&gt;cambiaba mi destino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ay,&lt;br /&gt;abrázame esta noche&lt;br /&gt;aunque no tengas ganas&lt;br /&gt;prefiero que me mientas&lt;br /&gt;tristes breves nuestras vidas&lt;br /&gt;acércate a mí&lt;br /&gt;abrázame a ti por Dios&lt;br /&gt;entrégate a mis brazos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tengo&lt;br /&gt;un corazón penando&lt;br /&gt;Yo sé&lt;br /&gt;que vos lo está escuchando&lt;br /&gt;Con&lt;br /&gt;mil lágrimas te quiero&lt;br /&gt;Pasión&lt;br /&gt;sos mi amor sincero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ay,&lt;br /&gt;abrázame esta noche&lt;br /&gt;aunque no tengas ganas&lt;br /&gt;prefiero que me mientas&lt;br /&gt;tristes breves nuestras vidas&lt;br /&gt;acércate a mí&lt;br /&gt;abrázame a ti por Dios&lt;br /&gt;entrégate a mis brazos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6982450167489237608?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6982450167489237608/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6982450167489237608' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6982450167489237608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6982450167489237608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/07/rodrigo-leo-pasin-no-me-olvides-yo-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-8628756723612988796</id><published>2007-06-14T02:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-06-14T02:49:31.752Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se não conseguimos fazer-nos como desejaríamos, não devemos esperar que as outras pessoas sejam inteiramente de nosso agrado. (Thomas Kempis)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8628756723612988796?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8628756723612988796/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8628756723612988796' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8628756723612988796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8628756723612988796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/06/se-no-conseguimos-fazer-nos-como.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-257131939057349738</id><published>2007-05-14T02:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-12T23:13:00.760Z</updated><title type='text'>Por ai "afora"...e mais além</title><content type='html'>lembro-me hoje de cada gesto de ontem&lt;br /&gt;esqueço-me agora de cada toque de hoje&lt;br /&gt;já ao pensar me lembro do que esqueci&lt;br /&gt;e esqueço-me ao sentir do que pensava ao lembrar&lt;br /&gt;não sinto quantas vezes senti…&lt;br /&gt;penso sim quantas vezes pensei…&lt;br /&gt;em pensar que senti o que por tantas vezes sonhei…&lt;br /&gt;e sim…sinto que tu fazes parte de um sonho…&lt;br /&gt;um sonho que sinto… que penso…e que vivo…&lt;br /&gt;e que de um sonho tal como da vida…&lt;br /&gt;Jamais sairei vivo…será um pesadelo?&lt;br /&gt;Será, se pensar, que o sonho acaba ao acordar…&lt;br /&gt;Então shhh…faz silêncio não me faças despertar &lt;br /&gt;Anda aqui para o meu lado suavemente deitar…&lt;br /&gt;Fecha os olhos e sente que não existe outro lugar&lt;br /&gt;Que não aquele que encontramos num envolvente sussurrar…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-257131939057349738?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/257131939057349738/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=257131939057349738' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/257131939057349738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/257131939057349738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/05/por-ai-aforae-mais-alm.html' title='Por ai &quot;afora&quot;...e mais além'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-390154912528549797</id><published>2007-04-30T13:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-30T13:19:34.376Z</updated><title type='text'>3 months...</title><content type='html'>Jamiroquai - YOU GIVE ME SOMETHING &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I met you, you were so unique&lt;br /&gt;You had a little thing I'd love to keep&lt;br /&gt;Every movement carried much mystique&lt;br /&gt;I knew right then I'd carry on, to you I knew my heart belonged&lt;br /&gt;You, you give me something&lt;br /&gt;Something that nobody else can give&lt;br /&gt;And my heart, started thumpin'&lt;br /&gt;You know now, you're the one I truly know I dig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the sunbeams from a perfect summer day&lt;br /&gt;Heaven only seems a step away&lt;br /&gt;When I'm with you, I just celebrate&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping my message gets through&lt;br /&gt;There's never been someone like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had nobody, but on you I lean&lt;br /&gt;'Cos you got these little things that I&lt;br /&gt;I know I've never seen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know now, you give me something&lt;br /&gt;Something that nobody else has got&lt;br /&gt;And this love, that I've been wanting&lt;br /&gt;Oh baby's turning out to be too fast to stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que este sensaçao dure pelo menos pelos próximos 300000000 meses :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-390154912528549797?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/390154912528549797/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=390154912528549797' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/390154912528549797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/390154912528549797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/04/3-months.html' title='3 months...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-4394503318768801948</id><published>2007-03-19T03:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-19T04:31:09.456Z</updated><title type='text'>Receber ao dar...</title><content type='html'>Hoje senti que precisei do teu abraço...que precisei daquela tua palavra..daquele teu afecto...daquela promessa...daquele gesto...de um qualquer conforto que me aconchegasse de uma forma unica...mesmo quando tudo pareceu estar bem... mesmo quando tudo esteve bem! o sol brilhou, mas um vento frio soprou... e um medo "estúpido" me invadiu...e então encontrei o que precisava no escorrer de uma lágrima que me revela que o sinto é apenas o medo, natural, de quem está a amar... o medo que apenas faz parte do "processo" de amar e nunca o fará parar...&lt;br /&gt;................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;sei agora que o que falta me faz, não o encontrarei no receber de qualquer "coisa", mas sim no amor que tenho para te dar...correctamente alguém disse que o amar está muito mais no dar do que no receber, e só aí verdadeiramente se recebe, quando o que se recebe se sente naquilo que se dá...e numa entrega verdadeiramente perdida se encontra o que se não quer perder...já perdido pelo amor ter sido encontrado :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - Amo-te fuofa :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-4394503318768801948?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4394503318768801948/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=4394503318768801948' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4394503318768801948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4394503318768801948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/03/receber-ao-dar.html' title='Receber ao dar...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-2097253805529933308</id><published>2007-02-22T04:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T05:03:54.564Z</updated><title type='text'>pintando sonhos com as tuas cores</title><content type='html'>Pensar no aconchego do teu abraço…&lt;br /&gt;faz-me realmente sentir &lt;br /&gt;que há um local chamado paraíso&lt;br /&gt;e que fica aqui mesmo debaixo do luar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É um local tão fácil de encontrar…&lt;br /&gt;basta para isso as tuas mãos tocar&lt;br /&gt;e perder me no teu olhar…&lt;br /&gt;E então sentir que o amor é um lugar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um lugar onde podemos chegar…&lt;br /&gt;onde a viagem será sempre um começo…&lt;br /&gt;e onde o medo não conseguirá entrar…&lt;br /&gt;em que flutuamos num sentir intenso…&lt;br /&gt;onde a palavra Amor parece não ter senso…&lt;br /&gt;pois é tão pequena e descreve algo tão imenso…&lt;br /&gt;Mas escrevo-a para saberes que é Amor o que sinto…&lt;br /&gt;e que esse lugar está aqui tão perto&lt;br /&gt;para saberes que seria uma loucura dizer que minto…&lt;br /&gt;ao ter a certeza que sinto, um sentimento tão certo...&lt;br /&gt;na incerteza de não saber se são sonhos que pinto&lt;br /&gt;e se apenas uma memória ao acordar &lt;br /&gt;como uma tela na parede irá sobrar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-2097253805529933308?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2097253805529933308/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=2097253805529933308' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2097253805529933308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2097253805529933308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/02/pintando-sonhos-com-as-tuas-cores.html' title='pintando sonhos com as tuas cores'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-5599092443079255787</id><published>2007-02-15T02:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T03:28:11.965Z</updated><title type='text'>estás (já) tão dispersa em mim...</title><content type='html'>sempre que deixas os meus braços, o nosso abraço, &lt;br /&gt;encontro-te tão profundamente dispersa em mim...&lt;br /&gt;fazes sem duvida sentir-te dentro do que eu sou&lt;br /&gt;naquele espaço... que é o nosso... onde nos perdemos...&lt;br /&gt;e onde nos encontramos com tudo...e onde tudo o que sentimos fica guardado...a fazer sentido e sentir.&lt;br /&gt;o tempo esse... o que passamos juntos é sempre escasso...&lt;br /&gt;que sinto ao saber que o tempo não sobra...&lt;br /&gt;que sei ao sentir que os sentidos não chegam..&lt;br /&gt;não chegam porque te sinto muito para além de qualquer sentido...&lt;br /&gt;sinto-te naquele sentimento, sereno, suave que faz da saudade uma espécie de brisa...&lt;br /&gt;uma brisa que sopra e traz o aroma do sexto sentido,&lt;br /&gt;sentido que sinto ao querer amar-te... quando sabendo me encontro a sentir-te perdido em palavras que (timidamente) me sussuras num livro&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-5599092443079255787?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5599092443079255787/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=5599092443079255787' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5599092443079255787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5599092443079255787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/02/ests-j-to-dispersa-em-mim.html' title='estás (já) tão dispersa em mim...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-2081167882176917806</id><published>2007-02-14T19:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-14T19:48:25.001Z</updated><title type='text'>Perfume de S. Valentim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RdNnC7mK-7I/AAAAAAAAAB0/gSHpWpnWs8g/s1600-h/red%2520rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RdNnC7mK-7I/AAAAAAAAAB0/gSHpWpnWs8g/s320/red%2520rose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031478508758170546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que a temporalidade desta rosa represente os momentos singulares em que estamos juntos&lt;br /&gt;E que o siginificado da sua cor manifeste sempre a intemporalidade do que sinto por ti...&lt;br /&gt;Feliz dia de S. Valentim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-2081167882176917806?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2081167882176917806/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=2081167882176917806' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2081167882176917806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2081167882176917806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/02/perfume-de-s-valentim.html' title='Perfume de S. Valentim'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RdNnC7mK-7I/AAAAAAAAAB0/gSHpWpnWs8g/s72-c/red%2520rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-6027191880021636641</id><published>2007-02-09T21:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-04T01:44:45.825Z</updated><title type='text'>declaro que...</title><content type='html'>sentir o teu macio beijar, respirar, tocar, paladar e outras sensações que são demais para narrar   &lt;br /&gt;me dão a sensação de estar a flutuar, e sereno...tranquilo,&lt;br /&gt;de olhos fechados sinto que estou no lugar &lt;br /&gt;onde os sonhos se estão a criar.&lt;br /&gt;e tenho a certeza que todos os momentos que temos partilhado&lt;br /&gt;são sonhos por nós realizados...&lt;br /&gt;achas que sou louco se disser que te amo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a tua resposta cada vez mais me dá mais a certeza que tou louco...&lt;br /&gt;por ti... C.C.L.&lt;br /&gt;Beijos enormes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6027191880021636641?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6027191880021636641/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6027191880021636641' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6027191880021636641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6027191880021636641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/02/declaro-que.html' title='declaro que...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-1798786414719130994</id><published>2007-02-03T21:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-04T01:44:45.860Z</updated><title type='text'>Sentindo as respostas...</title><content type='html'>Como? Quando? Onde? Porque? Será? Não será?...&lt;br /&gt;Todas as perguntas tem uma resposta... e todas as respostas as encontramos juntos... em nós... naquele nosso abraço, no nosso beijo, no nosso toque... no quente e doce respirar...no calmo e intenso olhar...no nosso... e só nosso... e tão nosso sentir... as perguntas nem tão pouco têm sentido quando sentindo viajamos para aquele lugar só nosso... perdidos de todos os sentidos... e onde sentindo tão intensamente com todos eles (os 5 sentidos), e muitos outros que inventamos juntos só para nos conseguirmos sentir melhor...nos encontramos tão longe... para além das estrelas e ao mesmo tempo tão perto... na distância de 2 bocas que se beijam... sim tu que me dás aquele sorriso... aquele olhar... aquele toque... aquele paladar... aquele perfume... sim tu... que tão bem me fazes perder em sentidos e com sentido nestes sentimentos tão... nossos... tão conhecidos e tão desconhecidos de tão verdes e ao mesmo tempo tão maduros de tão presentes e por nós intimamente conhecidos e de novo sentidos... &lt;br /&gt;Tu... C.C.L. :* beijos enormes para ti&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-1798786414719130994?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1798786414719130994/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=1798786414719130994' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1798786414719130994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1798786414719130994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/02/sentindo-as-respostas.html' title='Sentindo as respostas...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-117502278992899103</id><published>2007-01-31T14:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-31T15:04:48.906Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Song to the Siren"  - Robert Plant...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the floating, shapeless oceans&lt;br /&gt;I did all my best to smile&lt;br /&gt;til your singing eyes and fingers&lt;br /&gt;drew me loving into your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me;&lt;br /&gt;Let me enfold you."&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.&lt;br /&gt;Did I dream you dreamed about me?&lt;br /&gt;Were you here when I was full sail?&lt;br /&gt;Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken love lost on your rocks.&lt;br /&gt;For you sang, "Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm as puzzled as a newborn child.&lt;br /&gt;I'm as riddled as the tide.&lt;br /&gt;Should I stand amid the breakers?&lt;br /&gt;Or shall I lie with death my bride?&lt;br /&gt;Hear me sing: "Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you."&lt;br /&gt;"Here I am. Here I am, waiting to hold you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;versão dos  Mortal Coil... foi a que se arranjou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,29,0" width="366" height="75"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.goear.com/files/localplayer.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="file=aa47e05" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.goear.com/files/localplayer.swf" flashvars="file=aa47e05" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="366" height="75"&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/6644270712344370824-117502278992899103?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/117502278992899103/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=117502278992899103' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/117502278992899103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/117502278992899103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/song-to-siren-robert-plant.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-6195126483078530192</id><published>2007-01-30T12:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-30T13:10:31.926Z</updated><title type='text'>First kiss...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Quando os sonhos ficam a parecer meros esboços&lt;br /&gt;a realidade tem de facto o doce brilhar das estrelas…&lt;br /&gt;Acariciado suavemente pelo, teu, ainda mais suave perfume&lt;br /&gt;Envolvo-me no afecto do teu afectante respirar…&lt;br /&gt;Deixo-me viajar à deriva sem rota, sem mente ou receios...&lt;br /&gt;Para um lugar tão distante, onde nos encontramos,&lt;br /&gt;quando no real tão perto nos tocamos…&lt;br /&gt;no singular numero, que foi o primeiro tocar dos nossos lábios…&lt;br /&gt;Singular pelo que fez sentir… por ser o primeiro talvez…&lt;br /&gt;mas o numero 1 não ficou perdido…&lt;br /&gt;ficou singularmente repetido…&lt;br /&gt;em todos os beijos que nos fizeram sentido&lt;br /&gt;em todos os sentidos que nos fizeram sentir…&lt;br /&gt;os toques, olhares, perfumes, silêncios e paladares…&lt;br /&gt;por onde viajamos e fomos buscar…&lt;br /&gt;o brilho das estrelas na distancia de um "simples" beijar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;for...C.C.L :)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6195126483078530192?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6195126483078530192/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6195126483078530192' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6195126483078530192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6195126483078530192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/first-kiss.html' title='First kiss...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-8914242622339132063</id><published>2007-01-25T11:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T11:08:13.564Z</updated><title type='text'>Sente que mente numa mente que não sente...</title><content type='html'>Há gente &lt;br /&gt;Que não sente&lt;br /&gt;Só mente&lt;br /&gt;E que se ilude&lt;br /&gt;De que é contente,&lt;br /&gt;Como um mal de saúde,&lt;br /&gt;Apenas deixando descrente&lt;br /&gt;Quem não mente sentir&lt;br /&gt;Um contente sorrir…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora pergunto…&lt;br /&gt;Porque me fazes sorrir&lt;br /&gt;Um contente sentir…&lt;br /&gt;Quando um coração quase morto,&lt;br /&gt;Deixas ao sair?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8914242622339132063?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8914242622339132063/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8914242622339132063' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8914242622339132063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8914242622339132063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/sente-que-mente-numa-mente-que-no-sente.html' title='Sente que mente numa mente que não sente...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-7320448824976778409</id><published>2007-01-23T18:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-23T19:18:03.169Z</updated><title type='text'>de manhã se fazem tardes... que antes das 12h já são noites...</title><content type='html'>escorrendo pela manhã mais um triste dia...&lt;br /&gt;mais uma tarde que podia ter sido de magia...&lt;br /&gt;mas que de noite se fantasia...&lt;br /&gt;e mais uma madrugada que trará a azia...&lt;br /&gt;do amargo sabor em mais um copo que se esvazia...&lt;br /&gt;apenas o teu gosto eu queria&lt;br /&gt;para trazer fim a esta melancolia&lt;br /&gt;num sonho com o teu beijo vivia...&lt;br /&gt;em mil paladares imagino como seria...&lt;br /&gt;por fim, só...por aqui me encontro mais um dia...&lt;br /&gt;até que o teu coração junto ao meu faça melodia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-7320448824976778409?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7320448824976778409/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=7320448824976778409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7320448824976778409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7320448824976778409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/de-manh-se-fazem-tardes-que-antes-das.html' title='de manhã se fazem tardes... que antes das 12h já são noites...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-6635596252681173984</id><published>2007-01-23T09:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T11:13:47.251Z</updated><title type='text'>Uma esperança que não arrefece...</title><content type='html'>Nestes dias de Inverno &lt;br /&gt;O brilho do sol não aquece, não arrefece&lt;br /&gt;Apenas lembra um calor que não se esquece…&lt;br /&gt;Apenas deixa a sentir e a pensar…&lt;br /&gt;e com isso perco o sono&lt;br /&gt;e acabo de novo sonhar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sonhar de olhos abertos&lt;br /&gt;e 5 sentidos despertos&lt;br /&gt;os mesmos que dão luz à lembrança&lt;br /&gt;do odor, do toque, da luz, do sabor e da melodia…&lt;br /&gt;...Que em dias de Verão são constantes…&lt;br /&gt;e que dão sentido a esta esperança...&lt;br /&gt;que ...o frio é apenas um dia...&lt;br /&gt;E o calor das estrelas distantes...&lt;br /&gt;surgirá de novo como um toque de magia... ....constante...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-6635596252681173984?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6635596252681173984/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=6635596252681173984' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6635596252681173984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/6635596252681173984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/uma-esperana-que-no-arrefece.html' title='Uma esperança que não arrefece...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-4074076611884939928</id><published>2007-01-22T10:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-22T10:51:55.484Z</updated><title type='text'>Deja vou or not...</title><content type='html'>sonhamos tanto com amor que quando "ele" se concretiza é de facto um deja vou...perfeito dentro das imperfeições sonhadas... a cada momento...não lhe chamaria destino, ou uma experiência de vidas passadas...mas sim um sonho vivido na realidade que sonhamos....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-4074076611884939928?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4074076611884939928/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=4074076611884939928' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4074076611884939928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4074076611884939928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/deja-vou-or-not.html' title='Deja vou or not...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-7067386556817658505</id><published>2007-01-22T09:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-22T09:54:43.261Z</updated><title type='text'>tomorrow...maybe...</title><content type='html'>somedays I just feel like sh*t&lt;br /&gt;somedays I just wanna quit...&lt;br /&gt;somedays there is no sun&lt;br /&gt;somedays there is no sky&lt;br /&gt;somedays there's no heaven&lt;br /&gt;somedays there's no one that can feel me right...&lt;br /&gt;somedays no feeling can save me... unless love...&lt;br /&gt;the love that I see... the love I can feel...the love I gave...&lt;br /&gt;the love I receive...the love that exists...&lt;br /&gt;the love I don't have is the love that I miss......&lt;br /&gt;maybe tomorrow will be some other day...&lt;br /&gt;a better day...greenfull of hope...Rosefull of pink...whitefull of peace...peacefull of love&lt;br /&gt;the day that I miss...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-7067386556817658505?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7067386556817658505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=7067386556817658505' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7067386556817658505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7067386556817658505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/tomorrowmaybe.html' title='tomorrow...maybe...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-5555827997569436224</id><published>2007-01-19T09:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-19T09:29:39.615Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,29,0" width="366" height="75"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.goear.com/files/localplayer.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="file=fab5905" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="high" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.goear.com/files/localplayer.swf" flashvars="file=fab5905" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="366" height="75"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A prova que a música tal e qual como o maior dos sentimentos não necessita de compreensão nem de grandes enredos apenas de uma entrega a todos os sentidos e de todas as sensações e sentimentos... neste caso fechar os olhos (este sentido ocultado leva-nos para além do material em que estamos), escutar, sentir as vibrações e viajar... e nessa viagem sonhar com cores...cheiros...aromas...toques...e melodias ainda mais belas...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-5555827997569436224?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5555827997569436224/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=5555827997569436224' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5555827997569436224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5555827997569436224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/prova-que-msica-tal-e-qual-como-o-maior.html' title=''/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-5954181944347959828</id><published>2007-01-18T19:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-18T19:41:36.330Z</updated><title type='text'>Espécie de alcoolismo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/Ra_NQUqVP0I/AAAAAAAAABo/fjIOAgpdrdY/s1600-h/spilt-red-wine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/Ra_NQUqVP0I/AAAAAAAAABo/fjIOAgpdrdY/s320/spilt-red-wine.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021457789849255746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saborear-te por palavras que seja...&lt;br /&gt;É como provar o agridoce sabor da mais pura colheita...&lt;br /&gt;Os efeitos esses são os esperados...&lt;br /&gt;Uma espécie de loucura contente...&lt;br /&gt;Embriaguez consentida e desejada...&lt;br /&gt;Um travo do mais doce desejo... &lt;br /&gt;no ainda mais doce sabor que é a gosto da paixão...&lt;br /&gt;Que por momentos almeja tocar no desejado Amor...&lt;br /&gt;Perdido me encontro agora... nesta solidão... ou chamar-lhe-ia ressaca...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-5954181944347959828?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5954181944347959828/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=5954181944347959828' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5954181944347959828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/5954181944347959828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/espcie-de-alcoolismo.html' title='Espécie de alcoolismo...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/Ra_NQUqVP0I/AAAAAAAAABo/fjIOAgpdrdY/s72-c/spilt-red-wine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-3750791965702357950</id><published>2007-01-18T06:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-18T07:05:12.096Z</updated><title type='text'>think...feel...forget..remember: desires</title><content type='html'>There's a place where we can forget...&lt;br /&gt;There's a place where we can remember...&lt;br /&gt;The place where heaven and hell touch each other..&lt;br /&gt;The place between attraction and love...&lt;br /&gt;The distance between a simple touch and the touch of desire...&lt;br /&gt;The place doesn't mind... the time neither...&lt;br /&gt;The senses those are real... and the sensations lost for words...just found in sound and silence...&lt;br /&gt;Together we're heading...to that time and that place...&lt;br /&gt;where sinfull thoughts become sinless moments...&lt;br /&gt;some day... we will find how to forget... &lt;br /&gt;some day we will remember again... &lt;br /&gt;for now...we think...we feel...we go together on that dream....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3750791965702357950?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3750791965702357950/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3750791965702357950' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3750791965702357950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3750791965702357950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/thinkfeelforgetremember-desires.html' title='think...feel...forget..remember: desires'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-1484020330627329392</id><published>2007-01-15T01:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-15T13:34:17.564Z</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Mail by Marcy Playground</title><content type='html'>I’m just out here in the street practically&lt;br /&gt;I’m just waitin’ for the sunday mail&lt;br /&gt;Oooo it doesn’t come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me something soon?&lt;br /&gt;Will you swing me near the moon?&lt;br /&gt;With those words, I know&lt;br /&gt;I know you will, I know you will&lt;br /&gt;I know you will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just out here in the street, practically&lt;br /&gt;I’m just waitin’ for the sunday mail&lt;br /&gt;Aooo it never comes oooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you send me something soon?&lt;br /&gt;Will you swing me near the moon?&lt;br /&gt;With those words, I know&lt;br /&gt;I know you will, I know you will&lt;br /&gt;I know you will, I know you will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday "mail" or sunday "something" that comes from your direction ;) will it be? hmmmmm almost MONDAY.... let's find out... let's see if you make me swing "far over" the moon :) Sundays...Mondays... they are when you make them be :) I know you got it right kiss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-1484020330627329392?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1484020330627329392/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=1484020330627329392' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1484020330627329392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1484020330627329392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/sunday-mail-by-marcy-playground.html' title='Sunday Mail by Marcy Playground'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-4234560834979702721</id><published>2007-01-12T23:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-12T23:04:07.913Z</updated><title type='text'>Muse Starlight</title><content type='html'>Far away &lt;br /&gt;The ship is taking me far away &lt;br /&gt;Far away from the memories &lt;br /&gt;Of the people who care if I live or die &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starlight &lt;br /&gt;I will be chasing a starlight &lt;br /&gt;Until the end of my life &lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it's worth it anymore &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hold you in my arms &lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold &lt;br /&gt;You in my arms &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life &lt;br /&gt;You electrify my life &lt;br /&gt;Lets conspire to re-ignite &lt;br /&gt;All the souls that would die just to feel alive &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll never let you go &lt;br /&gt;If you promise not to fade away &lt;br /&gt;Never fade away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations &lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations &lt;br /&gt;Our hopes and expectations &lt;br /&gt;Black holes and revelations &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold you in my arms &lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to hold &lt;br /&gt;You in my arms&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-4234560834979702721?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4234560834979702721/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=4234560834979702721' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4234560834979702721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4234560834979702721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/muse-starlight.html' title='Muse Starlight'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-2379356221619546001</id><published>2007-01-10T17:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-10T18:00:30.291Z</updated><title type='text'>Eternidade...</title><content type='html'>Beija a felicidade enquanto a tens, se perdê-la causou muita sujidade limpa o chão por onde passou, para quando ela voltar teres a casa arrumada para voltar a receber a sua visita. A felicidade penso que não se perde, apenas se esconde e fica a espreitar a ver se lhe damos o real valor para poder voltar, por vezes somos felizes e não o aproveitamos, não o partilhamos, não o gritamos apenas vivemos na sombra e aconchego que ela nos dá e corremos o risco de ela se esconder e definhar como qualquer planta que não é cuidada.&lt;br /&gt; O que nos faz ser felizes: amizade, amor, saúde, dinheiro, e muito mais quanto mais não seja tudo aquilo que por vezes não temos… ou que julgamos não ter… &lt;br /&gt;“Nada do que é bom dura para sempre…”, isto não pode ser um ditado de saberes populares só pode tratar-se de um agoiro que alguém descontente ou descrente rogou. Como querem que acredite que nada do que é bom dura para sempre? Só me posso recusar a isso ou querer não acreditar… A felicidade é realmente algo que pode ser momentâneo…sim… mas, o que chamar então ao amor eterno? A um casal de 90 anos que morre junto em toda a paz e tranquilidade…poderá haver algo mais lindo…mais perfeito…do que um beijo de um casal dessa idade… quando toda a beleza é sem duvida a espiritual, quando todo tempo é apenas o que lhes resta e é o tempo mais que necessário, quando o espaço que precisam é o que percorrem juntos, quando toda a materialidade é a do seu companheiro/a…penso que isso será algo que muito poucos atingem… mas se há quem tenha conseguido…há sempre esperança… Não penso acreditar que uma nova paixão a amor eterno não possa aspirar, acredito sim que o devemos acreditar sempre, pois para amar é preciso acreditar que esse amor não vai acabar, dar tudo o que temos mostrar tudo o que sentimos partilhar tudo o que tememos é apenas o processo de amar, e só nesta total entrega se ama na realidade…&lt;br /&gt; sendo poeta há amar e amar-te há sonhar-te e tocar-te, por isso acredito que amor eterno é um sonho mas é um sonho que devemos sonhar tocar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; …em jeito de conclusão os momentos em que partilhamos amor são os que se tornam eternos, mesmo com todas as imperfeições de um momento perfeito… deixo aqui um obrigado a quem já fez parte dessa partilha comigo... um obrigado por fazer parte dessa intemporalidade que está sem tempo guardada algures dentro de nós…naquele espaço só nosso… num sentimento que sem duvida será constante... por todos os segundos de todos os tempos… até que a morte nos separe… ou então não… quem sabe se isso nos separa?!?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-2379356221619546001?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2379356221619546001/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=2379356221619546001' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2379356221619546001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2379356221619546001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/eternidade.html' title='Eternidade...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-7093094461765230159</id><published>2007-01-10T09:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-10T09:13:09.232Z</updated><title type='text'>Resposta...</title><content type='html'>um olhar que vale por 1000 palavras...que se vê mesmo de olhos fechados&lt;br /&gt;um silêncio absoluto...que se escuta como qualquer explosão&lt;br /&gt;um paladar com 1000 aromas... sem que qualquer química o manifeste &lt;br /&gt;um sorriso cheio de luz... mesmo com todas as lâmpadas desligadas &lt;br /&gt;um sentir com 1000 toques... sem que nunca seja tocado&lt;br /&gt;um abraço sentido... mesmo a uma distância de galáxias&lt;br /&gt;um beijo trocado... na imensidão de qualquer segundo&lt;br /&gt;qualquer espaço de tempo que se manifesta para a eternidade...&lt;br /&gt;nas 1001 sensações que conduzem 2 corações em sintonia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-7093094461765230159?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7093094461765230159/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=7093094461765230159' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7093094461765230159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/7093094461765230159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/resposta.html' title='Resposta...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-4760868373593289248</id><published>2007-01-08T15:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-08T22:01:19.063Z</updated><title type='text'>Only feel...</title><content type='html'>The more I drink (of you) the less I know &lt;br /&gt;How will I know something...&lt;br /&gt;when your taste is just soo sweet&lt;br /&gt;when all I want is to get drunk in you...&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't need to know...&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to need less...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-4760868373593289248?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4760868373593289248/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=4760868373593289248' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4760868373593289248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4760868373593289248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/only-feel.html' title='Only feel...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-3527451730570131863</id><published>2007-01-07T05:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T05:58:18.719Z</updated><title type='text'>I'm lost when you're not found...</title><content type='html'>Perdido ao querer encontrar-te...encontrado por ti ao querer encontrar-me...só junto a ti me encontro...só junto a ti encontro a paz...a paz que só tu me dás...perdido num encontro distante... profundo de um modo único e singular e ao mesmo tempo plural em todas as suas singularidades...escasso... quando todos os sentidos são poucos pois todas as formas que sentem são limitadas serão sempre um toque sem cheiro um som sem paladar...escasso digo... mas avassalador de todos os sentidos...tal como qualquer caso de amor...sentido para além de qualquer sentido fisico...mas muito mais espiritual...amor diria o nosso sexto sentido, uma reunião de todos os outros, mas em que nenhum faz parte...devaneio ou sonho...é por certo uma constante que se quer constante...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3527451730570131863?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3527451730570131863/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3527451730570131863' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3527451730570131863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3527451730570131863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-lost-when-youre-not-found.html' title='I&apos;m lost when you&apos;re not found...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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-6644270712344370824.post-3878145562064169283</id><published>2007-01-05T17:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-06T04:48:17.259Z</updated><title type='text'>Sentir e não "meter" o pensar nisso...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;OSHO - The Perfect Way.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Corpos físicos estão separados e continuarão separados, mas existe alguma coisa para além dos corpos que só se encontra no amor, que se torna uno através do amor. Só depois dessa unidade, de nos tornarmos um, é que alguma coisa pode ser dita e compreendida. A comunicação só é possível no amor....&lt;br /&gt;E lembre-se de que somente quando alguém ouve com o coração, e não com a cabeça, é que o ouvir realmente acontece.Perguntam... "o coração também ouve?" e eu lhes responderei que sempre que o ouvir acontece, é sempre através do coração. A cabeça nunca ouviu qualquer coisa. A cabeça é uma pedra surda. E isso também é verdadeiro quanto ao falar. Somente quando as palavras vêm do coração, elas são cheias de significado. Somente quando as palavras vêm do coração, elas têm a fragrância das flores frescas; se não for assim, elas serão apenas envelhecidas e murchas, elas serão artificiais - flores plásticas. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sem muito mais a acrescentar...apenas isto...o nosso cerebro realmente nada tem de sentimento é realmente uma "pedra surda"...é uma pedra "sem sentimentos" pena que às vezes não seja também muda e insista em nos dar "razões" que o coração quer desconhecer...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-3878145562064169283?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3878145562064169283/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=3878145562064169283' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3878145562064169283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/3878145562064169283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/is-or-its-love.html' title='Sentir e não &quot;meter&quot; o pensar nisso...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-8878932433383448216</id><published>2007-01-03T22:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-03T23:18:43.222Z</updated><title type='text'>Tied up to eternity...stepping together...or not...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZw1e9vgbPI/AAAAAAAAABc/BzndVyw1Y1Y/s1600-h/lovers-demery2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZw1e9vgbPI/AAAAAAAAABc/BzndVyw1Y1Y/s320/lovers-demery2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015942891070057714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dave Matthews Band › Two Step&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say, my love, I came to you&lt;br /&gt;With best intentions&lt;br /&gt;You laid down and gave to me just what&lt;br /&gt;Im seeking&lt;br /&gt;Love, you drive me to distraction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey my love do you believe that we&lt;br /&gt;Might last a thousand years&lt;br /&gt;Or more if not for this? &lt;br /&gt;Our flesh and blood it ties&lt;br /&gt;You and me right up&lt;br /&gt;Tie me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Celebrate we will&lt;br /&gt;Because life is short but sweet for certain&lt;br /&gt;Were climbing two by two&lt;br /&gt;To be sure these days continue,&lt;br /&gt;These things we cannot change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, my love, you came to me like&lt;br /&gt;Wine comes to this mouth&lt;br /&gt;Grown tired of water all the time&lt;br /&gt;You quench my heart and you&lt;br /&gt;Quench my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;..."&lt;em&gt;do you believe that we might last a thousand years or more if not for this?&lt;/em&gt;"... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flesh and blood... love... sex... or making love até que ponto esta mistura nos imortaliza... talvez nos tire alguns anos de duração... mas nós talvez só duremos alguns anos, meses, dias...horas...minutos...isto se alguma vez nos encontrarmos senão todos os anos serão reduzidos a um longo suspirar... ...há que viver a vida na plenitude do que ela nos oferece ainda que isso nos possa encaminhar para algum abismo...  i guess love is the only thing that will last for forever... and making love is a part of loving each other... just as watching the sunset... or fall asleep in each other arms...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sooooo&lt;br /&gt;Please... come to me like&lt;br /&gt;Wine comes to this mouth&lt;br /&gt;I'm growing tired of water all the time&lt;br /&gt;and quench my heart and my mind....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8878932433383448216?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8878932433383448216/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8878932433383448216' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8878932433383448216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8878932433383448216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/tied-up-to-eternitystepping-togetheror.html' title='Tied up to eternity...stepping together...or not...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZw1e9vgbPI/AAAAAAAAABc/BzndVyw1Y1Y/s72-c/lovers-demery2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-1116794389335256762</id><published>2007-01-03T01:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-03T06:26:19.753Z</updated><title type='text'>Limites...</title><content type='html'>sonhos quem os não tem... diz-me com o que sonhas e dir-te-ei quem és... sem grandes juizos de valor... apenas com a verdade que o amor é infinito tal como todos os sonhos devem ser... não aspires a tocar apenas o material quando podes alcançar para além do céu :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-1116794389335256762?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1116794389335256762/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=1116794389335256762' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1116794389335256762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1116794389335256762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/limites.html' title='Limites...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-2425606607142212765</id><published>2007-01-01T08:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-01T19:40:35.349Z</updated><title type='text'>Feliz 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZjTLNvgbOI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M3c4neYZcp4/s1600-h/picture164.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZjTLNvgbOI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M3c4neYZcp4/s320/picture164.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014990374697987298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cá está mais um ano... a viragem deste, ao contrário do que esperei, teve os seus encantos... tive a trabalhar, mas encontrei bastante alegria ainda assim... tive oportunidade de observar outros encantos desta maravilhosa cidade que é o Porto :)&lt;br /&gt; Mais uma vez fico a pensar que tudo o que vivemos todas as experiências (boas ou más) que passamos, terão maior ou menor importância, de acordo com o valor que lhes dermos nesse determinado momento. Se calhar a maior importância que damos a determinadas coisas tem a ver com as &lt;strong&gt;expectativas&lt;/strong&gt; que criamos em relação a essas mesmas coisas... por isso uma resolução para este ano será concerteza criar uma menor expectativa em relação a determinadas coisas e tentar viver cada coisa no seu momento especial... e a partir dai sim pensar mais nelas... mais livre de ideias pre-formadas ou "expectadas"... &lt;br /&gt; Tudo o que vivemos tem sem duvida uma importância no nosso desenvolvimento, porém a forma como assimilamos e crescemos a partir dessa experiência será concerteza o ponto fundamental para o nosso desenvolvimento, para nos tornar-mos pessoas melhores... penso que quem se torna mais frio ou mais insensível porque sofreu algum desgosto não terá evoluído, terá sim regredido e dado um passo atrás na sua própria construção, que deve ser sempre no sentido de alcançar o melhor de nós próprios, sermos mais compreensivos, mais carinhosos, mais abertos, etc e não de nos tornarmos pessoas mais fechadas, egoístas, insensíveis, etc... &lt;br /&gt; Toda a gente passa por coisas más na vida... alguns dão um tiro na cabeça... outros abrem um novo sorriso para a vida e embarcam para novos rumos e sem duvida o caminho tem de ser esse, pois em todos os momentos felizes que passamos jamais nos passaria outra ideia pela cabeça... e a felicidade é sem duvida a nossa melhor conselheira... afinal é "ela" que todos procuramos e até nas mais simples coisas a encontramos...&lt;br /&gt;Por isso os desejos sinceros para todos é que este ano seja o ano em que encontrem a felicidade em todas as pequenas coisas e que consigam, a partir dessas (pequenas coisas), construir coisas cada vez maiores e melhores...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-2425606607142212765?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2425606607142212765/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=2425606607142212765' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2425606607142212765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2425606607142212765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2007/01/feliz-2007.html' title='Feliz 2007'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZjTLNvgbOI/AAAAAAAAABQ/M3c4neYZcp4/s72-c/picture164.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-2375492939161859030</id><published>2006-12-29T14:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-29T15:31:57.786Z</updated><title type='text'>Who are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Built to Spill&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"once in a while there's this girl I don't know in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;she reminds me of a lot of people&lt;br /&gt;but she's someone that I've never seen&lt;br /&gt;and she's perfect"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdido num silêncio ensurdecedor,&lt;br /&gt;encontro nas tuas palavras o afecto&lt;br /&gt;as mesmas que trazem o doce sabor&lt;br /&gt;do teu som quando estás perto…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sei que esta espera é o Fado&lt;br /&gt;de quem se perde por querer ser achado&lt;br /&gt;Perdido em ocultas saudades&lt;br /&gt;Encontro-te aqui e ali em estranhas realidades&lt;br /&gt;Pergunto serão sonhos serão brisas?&lt;br /&gt;Não encontro as respostas&lt;br /&gt;Mas sonho contigo e penso &lt;br /&gt;Que penso apenas por estar acordado&lt;br /&gt;           ………………&lt;br /&gt;                     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                   Pedro Whiteman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-2375492939161859030?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2375492939161859030/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=2375492939161859030' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2375492939161859030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/2375492939161859030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-are-you.html' title='Who are you?'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-113458060904458149</id><published>2006-12-26T09:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-26T09:48:32.664Z</updated><title type='text'>"Alma"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZDvOYW3ntI/AAAAAAAAABE/wNo1I42riQ8/s1600-h/james_brown.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZDvOYW3ntI/AAAAAAAAABE/wNo1I42riQ8/s320/james_brown.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012769415598939858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma triste noticia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;«James Brown - 1933-2006»&lt;br /&gt;Morreu o homem que rodopiava canções com alma.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como todos as pessoas que colocam alma nas coisas que fazem jamais serão esquecidas...ele não será esquecido de certeza... cá fica a recordação do sentimento partilhado pelo pai do funk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wo! I feel good, I knew that I would now &lt;br /&gt;I feel good, I knew that I wouldn't of &lt;br /&gt;So good, so good, I got you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wo! I feel nice, like sugar and spice &lt;br /&gt;I feel nice, like sugar and spice &lt;br /&gt;So nice, so nice, I got you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hold you in my arms &lt;br /&gt;I know that I can do no wrong &lt;br /&gt;and when I hold you in my arms &lt;br /&gt;My love won't do you no harm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I feel nice, like sugar and spice &lt;br /&gt;I feel nice, like sugar and spice &lt;br /&gt;So nice, so nice, I got you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AAnnndd I feeeeeeeellll niceeee like sugar and spice :) desejos de muito açucar e pimenta por toda essa eternidade... and thanks for all the sugar and spice that you put in our lifes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-113458060904458149?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/113458060904458149/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=113458060904458149' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/113458060904458149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/113458060904458149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/alma.html' title='&quot;Alma&quot;'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RZDvOYW3ntI/AAAAAAAAABE/wNo1I42riQ8/s72-c/james_brown.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-9202233163442253140</id><published>2006-12-22T13:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-22T13:14:31.572Z</updated><title type='text'>Breve ilusão dos sentidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYvaLYW3nsI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zV9m5DoZEKM/s1600-h/21+e+22-02-2006+083.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYvaLYW3nsI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zV9m5DoZEKM/s320/21+e+22-02-2006+083.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011338899431595714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…foi então, que por escassos segundos tudo desapareceu, toda a confusão que nos envolvia, toda a insanidade, todo o frio, todos os olhares cheios de nada, todos os cheiros desagradáveis, todo o reboliço de encontrões, todo o barulho, todas as luzes ofuscantes, todas as sensações insensíveis se transformaram… no flutuar mais sereno… como que, embalados na superfície espelhada de um rio, que se move tranquilamente para a foz… tudo isso sentido, na curta ilusão de um breve fechar de olhos… que tristemente ao reabrirem se apercebem que não és tu que está comigo… quem está presente apenas não está… e é então que tudo o que me acerca, é reinterpretado pelos sentidos, que me colocam, novamente, no meio da confusão de onde a ilusão me havia retirado. Fico de novo perdido… e volto a ser invadido por este sentimento frio que havia sido iludido…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes, tudo o que preciso sentir é o aconchego do teu abraço, o carinho do teu toque, o doce misturar do ar que expiras com o meu, para todo este sentimento gélido deixar de existir… por vezes, um abraço, que dura os breves segundos para o tornarem eterno, é tudo o que preciso para não ter receio do nada… e de nada… mas, só tu farás da ilusão realidade… até lá aguardo… serenamente… mas, com frio…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-9202233163442253140?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/9202233163442253140/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=9202233163442253140' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/9202233163442253140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/9202233163442253140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/iluso-dos-sentidos.html' title='Breve ilusão dos sentidos'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYvaLYW3nsI/AAAAAAAAAA4/zV9m5DoZEKM/s72-c/21+e+22-02-2006+083.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-8628355281508709756</id><published>2006-12-21T11:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-21T12:05:37.075Z</updated><title type='text'>Devaneios da vontade...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYp0JIW3nqI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lJpkgJN6vJw/s1600-h/100_5748.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYp0JIW3nqI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lJpkgJN6vJw/s200/100_5748.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010945235614146210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flutuo e não receio... suspiro por ti e não te encontro… Flutuo por ti na brisa de emoções que são reais e não existem, como o medo de te perder sem te ter nunca encontrado, a vontade de voltar a sentir-te sem te ter nunca sentido, a saudade de te ver sem nunca te ter visto... perdido num caminho sem rumo que me leva ao encontro do nada, pois o que procuro não pode ser encontrado em rotas traçadas, não há um caminho, não há um método, apenas há um espectro de luz em todas as cores difundido, que me toca de um modo singular e plural, real e irreal, sem tempo ou espaço, frequência ou quantidade… que é apenas por momentos sentido… na inconstância constante, que são as concretas… constantes da vida.&lt;br /&gt; Por outras palavras diria… Numa imensidão de galáxias, tudo o que eu queria eras tu… por a solidão de lado e partirmos para o paraíso…… acordados, naquele instante imperfeito, de que são feitos todos os momentos perfeitos em que sonho contigo... junto a mim.&lt;br /&gt; Flutuo ao sabor da maré e a corrente dita o rumo...por vezes fico perdido no caminho, agitado pelas ondas dos devaneios da vontade que tenho de te sentir...a culpa é da vontade...&lt;br /&gt;... e um pouco sem crer ao sonhar, senti-te tocar-me, sem tacto, apenas com a melodia de cada emoção que transmites, emoções exprimidas, outras guardadas, por vezes subentendidas e outras vezes perdidas, na tristeza de uma solidão presente, mas que no fundo é um presente, porque permite saber, o quão grande pode ser, um sentimento em semente...&lt;br /&gt;só a solidão permite de facto saber o tamanho do que está vazio, e só quando temos noção do vazio total estamos prontos a dar e receber, porque estamos de novo cheios do vazio necessário que é a imensidão de amar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-8628355281508709756?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/8628355281508709756/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=8628355281508709756' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8628355281508709756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/8628355281508709756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/devaneios-da-vontade.html' title='Devaneios da vontade...'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYp0JIW3nqI/AAAAAAAAAAg/lJpkgJN6vJw/s72-c/100_5748.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-4284498153560049385</id><published>2006-12-20T13:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-20T16:28:43.728Z</updated><title type='text'>Sopros...precisam-se</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYlAZIW3noI/AAAAAAAAAAM/u8U4F6OXf0k/s1600-h/100_3780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYlAZIW3noI/AAAAAAAAAAM/u8U4F6OXf0k/s320/100_3780.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010606860910698114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes sentimo-nos assim...tão compactos e complexos, porém tão frágeis e "dissemináveis". Como que esperando uma rajada que nos disperse ou apenas um pequeno sopro que nos afague... Tal como nós esta pequena planta vive, fixa, complexa, bela, com sonhos e com medo, receia que os seus sonhos, as suas pequenas partículas, sejam perdidas ou então que não toquem alguém, algo, alguma coisa ainda que por breves momentos, momentos esses que por qualquer ilusão se tornem eternos... perfeitos... ...com medo que os seus minúsculos e ao mesmo tempo gigantes sonhos vivam para sempre dispersos, sem solo onde germinar, apenas voando com rumo mas sem solo onde aterrar.&lt;br /&gt;No fundo todos queremos voar, pois é esse o nosso rumo. Receio... teremos sempre, como tudo o que é digno de amar e ser amado... o importante, será portanto, uma predisposição para dizer: sopros e porque não...rajadas... precisam-se :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-4284498153560049385?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4284498153560049385/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=4284498153560049385' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4284498153560049385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/4284498153560049385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/soprosprecisam-se.html' title='Sopros...precisam-se'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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/_ZDB6WH4nP7U/RYlAZIW3noI/AAAAAAAAAAM/u8U4F6OXf0k/s72-c/100_3780.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6644270712344370824.post-1651241600869402908</id><published>2006-12-20T13:06:00.001Z</published><updated>2006-12-22T13:21:24.195Z</updated><title type='text'>Pedra filosofal</title><content type='html'>Pedra filosofal (re-edição)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles não sabem que o sonho&lt;br /&gt;é uma constante da vida&lt;br /&gt;tão concreta e definida&lt;br /&gt;como outra coisa qualquer,&lt;br /&gt;como esta pedra cinzenta&lt;br /&gt;em que me sento e descanso,&lt;br /&gt;como este ribeiro manso&lt;br /&gt;em serenos sobressaltos,&lt;br /&gt;como estes pinheiros altos&lt;br /&gt;que em verde e oiro se agitam,&lt;br /&gt;como estas aves que gritam&lt;br /&gt;em bebedeiras de azul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles não sabem que o sonho&lt;br /&gt;é vinho, é espuma, é fermento,&lt;br /&gt;bichinho álacre e sedento,&lt;br /&gt;de focinho pontiagudo,&lt;br /&gt;que fossa através de tudo&lt;br /&gt;num perpétuo movimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles não sabem que o sonho&lt;br /&gt;é tela, é cor, é pincel,&lt;br /&gt;base, fuste, capitel,&lt;br /&gt;arco em ogiva, vitral,&lt;br /&gt;pináculo de catedral,&lt;br /&gt;contraponto, sinfonia,&lt;br /&gt;máscara grega, magia,&lt;br /&gt;que é retorta de alquimista,&lt;br /&gt;mapa do mundo distante,&lt;br /&gt;rosa-dos-ventos, Infante,&lt;br /&gt;caravela quinhentista,&lt;br /&gt;que é Cabo da Boa Esperança,&lt;br /&gt;ouro, canela, marfim,&lt;br /&gt;florete de espadachim,&lt;br /&gt;bastidor, passo de dança,&lt;br /&gt;Colombina e Arlequim,&lt;br /&gt;passarola voadora,&lt;br /&gt;pára-raios, locomotiva,&lt;br /&gt;barco de proa festiva,&lt;br /&gt;alto-forno, geradora,&lt;br /&gt;cisão do átomo, radar,&lt;br /&gt;ultra-som, televisão,&lt;br /&gt;desembarque em foguetão&lt;br /&gt;na superfície lunar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles não sabem, nem sonham,&lt;br /&gt;que o sonho comanda a vida.&lt;br /&gt;Que sempre que um homem sonha&lt;br /&gt;o mundo pula e avança&lt;br /&gt;como bola colorida&lt;br /&gt;entre as mãos de uma criança.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                 António Gedeão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serve este post "original" como ponto de partida e ao mesmo tempo de explicação, para quem não tinha percebido o tema.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6644270712344370824-1651241600869402908?l=constantesdavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1651241600869402908/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6644270712344370824&amp;postID=1651241600869402908' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1651241600869402908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6644270712344370824/posts/default/1651241600869402908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://constantesdavida.blogspot.com/2006/12/pedra-filosofal-re-edio-eles-no-sabem.html' title='Pedra filosofal'/><author><name>Pedro Whiteman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10733782614658824721</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></feed>
