<?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-8006499754498707416</id><updated>2011-12-21T01:28:02.235Z</updated><category term='Ano novo'/><category term='music'/><category term='paramore'/><category term='Lily Allen'/><category term='música'/><category term='favorite songs'/><category term='believing'/><category term='Dia Mundial da Criança'/><category term='the beatles'/><title type='text'>Serendipity</title><subtitle type='html'>"It's just a nice sounding word for what it means: a fortunate accident." Sometimes I have the talent for making pleasant and egregious discoveries entirely by chance.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>76</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4625245529687803625</id><published>2011-12-21T01:16:00.007Z</published><updated>2011-12-21T01:28:02.243Z</updated><title type='text'>Um NotaDoll</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Reconhecem aquelas pessoas que vos acariciam a face? Aquele bonito gesto que provocaria no espetador feminino expressões “ooooh, que queridoooo!”. Pois, eu chego a odiar esses queridos! Delicadeza perfeita para bonequinhas. Eu não sou uma boneca! Gostava de vos desenganar nesse aspeto. Nem sempre que vos faço rir estou a ver arco-íris; Nem sempre que não choro indica que uma lágrima não suplica por ser solta; Nem sempre que não peço ajuda significa que não a precise; Nem sempre que digo «não faz mal» exclui que me magoaram; Nem sempre que sorrio ao vos ver sem adivinhar o vosso entusiasmo no reencontro quer dizer que não me aborreça a vossa indiferença…Eu sou expressiva, acreditem-me! Se eu tento acreditar que o mundo pode-nos sorrir se lhe sorrirmos por que não podem vocês ter um pouco de fé? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Por vezes canso-me de que se espere sempre dos outros a alegria contagiante…acreditem-me ninguém gosta de ser tomada por adquirida! &lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Have a little faith in me...give me your honest and passionate smile! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4625245529687803625?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4625245529687803625/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4625245529687803625' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4625245529687803625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4625245529687803625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2011/12/um-notadoll.html' title='Um NotaDoll'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3274462703935317103</id><published>2011-08-04T14:06:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T14:30:11.966+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu sei</title><content type='html'>Há coisas que simplesmente sabemos: intuição, compreensão e confiança com um misto de esperança kármica. Um engano, diriam, mas um equívoco feliz!&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="400" height="257" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Td2PYnsiW88?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3274462703935317103?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3274462703935317103/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3274462703935317103' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3274462703935317103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3274462703935317103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2011/08/eu-sei.html' title='Eu sei'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/Td2PYnsiW88/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6007926454725886335</id><published>2011-06-01T14:03:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-01T15:22:00.364+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily Allen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dia Mundial da Criança'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><title type='text'>A criança nos três tempos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hoje é o dia mundial da criança e a minha infância está presente através de memórias. Eu e a minha irmã nunca fomos crianças iguais às outras, se me-é permitido dizer. As nossas bonecas podem-se contar pelos dedos das mãos somando-lhe os legos e os carrinhos. Enganem-se os que pensam que foi um processo de crescimento triste. Nada disso! Tivemos a alegria da música. Nunca me esquecerei das viagens de carro em que se cantarolava toda e mais alguma canção; dos concursos musicais que se faziam nas reuniões familiares; da nossa banda, à qual anos depois a minha prima aderiu, e do fluxo criativo de cada verso inventado. Um percurso diário de melodias cantadas. Desde então a música é indispensável.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tal como os aromas ou paladares nos avivam momentos transactos, os sons trazem lembranças de etapas da minha vida. É surpreendente como algumas músicas conseguem personificar tão bem alguns sentimentos, sensações resumindo até ligações afectivas. Hoje é o dia da criança e esta que aqui escreve cresceu. Hoje, por acaso, voltei a ouvir o álbum &lt;i&gt;It's not me, it's you da &lt;/i&gt;Lily Allen e algumas faixas encaixaram perfeitamente nesse meu percurso. Porque a distância parece cada vez maior em relação ao que já foi expoente na presença, decidi dedicar estas analogias musicais aos homens da minha vida. Porque, acrescento ainda, uma criança vive de sonhos também te faço presente no futuro sem risco de exímia predição.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ao meu primeiro...pelas lições necessárias ao crescimento de uma alma ingénua mas que nunca parou de surpreender o mestre, talvez, por isso exista ainda uma amizade que nunca desvanece:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/S9E8tHyizE8?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ao meu primeiro amor vivido...porque tinha 22 anos quanto a separação me fez ver que posso ser uma borboleta mesmo que, na altura, ainda apaixonada por ti:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9ISZ6ecUft0?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ao meu segundo relacionamento...pelo teu carácter irrepreensível e pela nobreza de uma paixão tua sem sintonia com uma alma a aprender a ser livre:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fUYaosyR4bE?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A ti..., acima de tudo, pela amizade natural que cresceu num compasso exacto e porque, mesmo que eu não queira, já não me sinto só - ao pé de ti sou uma criança feliz:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FbDMUijBP2U?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;:p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6007926454725886335?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6007926454725886335/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6007926454725886335' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6007926454725886335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6007926454725886335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2011/06/crianca-nos-tres-tempos.html' title='A criança nos três tempos'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/S9E8tHyizE8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1696917523270615466</id><published>2011-04-01T21:22:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T22:11:17.779+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Carta ao Cosmos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Querido Cosmos, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Venho por este meio pedir-lhe que permita ao doce desconhecido voltar a cruzar o meu caminho. Não suponha que é com puro egoísmo que peço tal intervenção. Quero apenas contribuir para uma maior eficiência de todos aqueles que colaboram consigo. Como sou mera mortal por vezes fico iludida com características superficiais. Creio que concebe a real identidade do mundo actual: é a imagem que governa. Desta matéria poderia-se escrever um longo texto sobre as novas formas de relacionamento relevando a virtualidade e ainda vaguear pela mediatização. Não quero perder-me em tal desvaneio! É certo, apenas, concluir que um ícone vale mais do que palavras. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Retornando ao assunto que me trouxe à sua morada, vou requerer com uma súplica egoísta que envie o Cupido de novo ao meu encontro. Ah! Pois claro, ele que traga o livre de reclamações! Pretendo, sem dúvida, dialogar, numa primeira instância, com esse desconhecido fazendo-o ver que as suas capacidades de incutir atracção não funcionaram comigo. Creio ser uma jovem de perfeita saúde descrita como a rapariga da porta ao lado mas com génio de borboleta logo, não julgo ser eu a causa de tal missão falhada. Supondo que possuo certas deficiências em aptidão social ou de qualquer outra natureza, continua a ser o senhor cupido o responsável pela eficácia do seu serviço! Ora um exímio atirador não pode ter só fama tem de ter já provas dadas: ou acerta o alvo ou erra ; ou sabe acertar ou alguma coisa está errada. Não quero contudo, duvidar da eficácia do serviço do querido estranho. Apenas julgo que talvez não utilize da melhor forma os seus recursos. Numa economia em crise, como a nossa, esta tarefa é determinante. Refiro com veemência que a mão-de-obra empregue foi com certeza um recurso bem utilizado. Talvez eu é que não tenha sabido explorar bem. Num pequeno à parte, se me é permitido: o senhor cupido é bem interessante. Não se zangue com o meu argumento como já lhe disse aqui na terra o mortal tem muita tendência a sucumbir a estes fúteis atributos. O senhor misterioso certamente entenderá. Se bem compreendi pelas aulas de história de arte ele é versado na arte do amor vindo de uma linhagem de exímios sedutores. Creio até que lhe dão o título de deus. Pois bem, não acha excelentíssimo Cosmos que tendo ele um curriculo tão expressivo eu deva reclamar pela tão fraca execução da tarefa? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590725111433329682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZuDCH_0Z0RI/TZY-3i_W_BI/AAAAAAAAARs/AI3op_SMNkQ/s320/cupid%2Bpsyche.jpg" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Como sou uma rapariga prática antecedo algumas ilações passíveis de se fazer. Nego ser mais resistente ao contágio do elixir do Cupido. Até porque se lhe questionar verá que este não se mostrou rogado em cumprir da maneira mais convicente a sua tarefa. Adivinho que por necessidade de levantar as menores supeitas o doce estranho não ande por aí de arco em riste e assim opte por transportar o seu poder fatal, literalmente, em suas mãos. Isso explica o porquê de ser atingida pelo toque do Cupido no ombro. Com todo o devido respeito, digníssimo Cosmos, não se pode alegar para defesa do doce estranho que essa parte do corpo humano está habituada a receber todo o tipo de antídotos e por tal o contagio pode ser dificuldado. Queira entender que esse facto continua a atribuir a responsabilidade ao menino cupido. Por favor, não lhe permita safar-se com uma mentira piedosa ao referir que o “veneno” só vai fazer efeito daqui a algum tempo. Hoje em dia, com a DECO, o consumidor está mais esclarecido para estas artimanhas. Como sabe aqui pelo mundo ocidental estamos habituados ao imediato. Culpe a globalização. Olhe, culpe as redes sociais! Não me pode informar se por acaso o doce estranho tem facebook? Deduzo que seja adepto das novas tecnologias da comunicação na medida em que, na última vez que o vi, o seu melhor amigo era o portátil e a necessidade premente era a internet gratuita. Neste seguimento, já pensei em efectuar um busca mas teria de reduzir as opções com algumas características determinantes dele que não possuo. Não me parece que procurar exactamento por Cupido vá resultar pois como bem entendi ele realizou um árduo trabalho de disfarce para circular por entre os mortais que duvido que tenha deixado este grande pormenor passar ao lado. Vendo bem, prefiro um tête-à-tête com aquela entidade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não se pode também alegar que graças a um factor externo me tornei mais resistente ao vírus. A culpa continua a ser do Cupido. Responda-me sinceramente se acha que posso ser responsabilizada pelo Cupido ser um doce estranho de tal forma que o feitiço não reultou exactamento como ele previra? Chama-se plano de gestão de crises! Se me permitir conversar com o ilustre estranho posso, em nome de uma maior eficiência, explicar em que consiste tal estratégia de gestão. Não posso deixar de me sentir virtualmente magoada pela possiblidade deste facto constituir uma alegação de defesa do Cupido! Entre tantos disfarces teria de se assemelhar ao tipo de jovem pelo qual haveria uma maior probabilidade de instintivamente me sentir de certo modo mais atraída por? Aqui está uma pequena crise que, como tive a oportunidade de concluir, o senhor incógnita não geriu de imediato. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Depois desta tentativa de expor a questão tentando evitar muitos mais pormenores técnicos, volto a referir-lhe, amabilíssimo Cosmos, a importância de um novo encontro acidentado com o misterioso do outro dia. Preciso fazer-lhe algumas observações. Espero também obter algumas respostas por tal se tiver a gentileza reencaminhe este pedido e alerte-o para a real extensão destes meus apontamentos. Acrescento que não prevejo ter de exigir o livro de reclamações visto que o diálogo é a solução para esta questão. Se tantos outros mortais optassem por esta via creio que alguns subditos seus teriam férias. Atenda-me este pedido pois, com o devido respeito, não tenho muito tempo para ficar ao sol perto de um café com internet gratuita. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1696917523270615466?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1696917523270615466/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1696917523270615466' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1696917523270615466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1696917523270615466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2011/04/carta-ao-cosmos.html' title='Carta ao Cosmos'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZuDCH_0Z0RI/TZY-3i_W_BI/AAAAAAAAARs/AI3op_SMNkQ/s72-c/cupid%2Bpsyche.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5882145710817476973</id><published>2011-01-01T16:18:00.007Z</published><updated>2011-01-01T17:42:26.319Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ano novo'/><title type='text'>Due mile e 10 mais 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=six+feet+under#/d2pp7td"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557261979556015810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TR9cU6c4bsI/AAAAAAAAARY/K5Yt7FJcz1Y/s320/Six_feet_under_the_stars_by_6eternity9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;Decidi quase a contra gosto fazer a dita avaliação do ano transacto. Torço ainda os dedos para que o resultado seja filosófico apesar da minha assumida falta de inspiração. Então, por quê? Sim, por quê obrigar-me a realizar tal análise? Preciso rever, repensar, reassumir o rumo destes meus anos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece ser difícil começar, por tal escolho uma banda que descobri por acaso em 2010. The Saturdays. Não há aparente standard para a opção. Apetece-me. O ano de 2010 obedeceu um pouco a esta lógica do &lt;em&gt;agora não me apetece, faço depois&lt;/em&gt;. O resultado? Prazos apertados mas trabalho com qualidade. Falo do fim do meu estágio que aconteceu em Janeiro. Uma etapa concluída com algumas dores de cabeça. É sempre difícil enfrentar um pseudo-mercado de trabalho. Nada é como nos ensinam; tem de se ter a pro-actividade, criatividade e a força para contornar obstáculos. Deixa-se de lado o vácuo da universidade e se nos apresenta o mundo e as variáveis indeterminadas. A tese! Sim, essa também foi sendo feita ao sabor do vento. Não se cansaram de me apresentar razões para cumprir o calendário folgado. Que dizer? Prefiro o rés-vés. O resultado é fruto de um contorno destemido dos obstáculos do estágio, a par com um bom trabalho de investigação teórica e boa capacidade de escrita. Não fiz eu esta avaliação mas sim o arguente da minha defesa de tese. Sou mestre! Aí está uma etapa, para 2010, concluída a 20 de Dezembro. Os nervos lá rondaram todo este processo. A insegurança pareceu persistir até à última gota de suor derramado por este mestrado em Ciências da Comunicação. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estudos, check! Não fosse eu escrever um texto sem referir signos, aqui me aventuro eu. Como Balança o sociável não pode ser secundarizado. Sim, foram vocês, meus doces amigos, um dos agentes mais influentes neste ano. Que questionem a minha suposta impermeabilidade, à vontade. Apetece-me responder-vos “fu** u”. Ao menos eu não tenho medo de perder a suposta independência ao admitir que não sou como os burros, mudo de ideias, e por que não ouvir as opções que os teus amigos te propõem?! Não tenho nada a admitir. Sou assim. Cada ano que passa conheço-me um bocadinho mais. Perco, a cada passo, a timidez de assumir o que penso. Continuo a ser a rapariga aérea que sonha acordada com um pé assente na terra e diz praticamente tudo o que vê e pensa. A conversa pode afigurar-se num diário de “babozeiras” atiradas para o ar. Quem não se divertiu a ouvir as minhas teorias absurdas? Frágil? Sim, sou frágil. Choro várias vezes ao ano quando não vejo solução para as questões. Rasgo muita ingenuidade e mascaro despreocupação mas não esqueço. Aprendo a nunca mais ser, não mais vezes, a ignorar e seguir em frente. Não esqueço até que tropeço no mesmo mas já não caio. Como poderia eu estatelar-me no chão com &lt;em&gt;cabalona&lt;/em&gt; como a minha?! Impossível não sorrir ao saber que, involuntariamente, as pessoas sentem necessidade de me proteger. Não, não quero! Quero ser forte! Preciso? Sem a minha &lt;em&gt;cabalona&lt;/em&gt; não sei ser! Merci! Sei que sem a tua &lt;em&gt;cabalita&lt;/em&gt; quem terias para abrir as asas da protecção? Quem terias para chamar a atenção quando pões música e eu estou refastelada no sofá! Fazes-me sentir a maninha &lt;em&gt;mai&lt;/em&gt; nova. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lolita? Talvez para alguns! Esbarro-me muitas vezes no espelho ao não ver a beleza que alguns me atribuem. Agora estou bem sendo apenas eu. A beleza da porta ao lado, que todas têm e devia ser perfeita para cada uma de nós. Há dias em que nada parece dar certo e nessas horas obrigo-me a libertar toda a tensão e olhar para dentro de mim numa busca sôfrega pela força. Ela surge a custo. No dia seguinte estou a erguer-me! Sozinha não! Com fé no que não vejo e no que sei que está.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E 2010? Há algo que me arrependo? Creio que não. Todas as opções que tomei estão a ajudar a construir o que sou. Se preferia não te ter magoado? Claro. Nem eu sabia o que queria mas a dois não ia descobrir. Tomei, tomámos a decisão certa. Cada um segue a estrada correcta, pelo menos agora parece. Quanto à dor que me confundiu, é um nada. Tudo o vento levou. Sabem aquelas memórias que são activadas ou por um sabor, um cheiro, uma música e ou um mísero som? Não esqueci essas lembranças antes dolorosas. Quem pode culpar alguém por se sentir ignorada, descartável e até certo ponto traída? Toda a história tem pelo menos dois pontos de vista. Este é o meu. Perdi o receio de assumir o que foi e o que é - resíduo de uma outra existência. Gato escaldado…qualquer coisa. Pois sim, romântica incurável, talvez seja esta a minha patologia fatal. Lá vou eu desarmada e pronta a cair. Quase. Tropecei uma vez. Nunca mais. Até a vez seguinte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sequência. Depois de 2010 vem o 2011. A transição não podia ser a melhor! Amigos, champanhe e muita alegria. A capicua trouxe muita música, dança e mais amigos! Por estranho que pareça não há registo fotográfico. Perdoem a mente que procura desvendar mistério e atribuir significados a tudo que é. Talvez signifique que chegou a hora de deixarmos de viver agarrados às lembranças e de pegarmos no volante da vida: é nossa e é para vivê-la ao máximo. Esta é a minha interpretação. Cada um vê aquilo que quer ver. Eu quero um novo rumo, uma etapa desafiante e risonha, quero ser e estar! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2011 já aqui está! Vamos abanar os standards, fazer mais e melhor, sorrir e fazer rir, ultrapassar as dificuldades e seguir em frente, amar e ser respeitados, apaixonar e ser felizes!&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/8006499754498707416-5882145710817476973?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5882145710817476973/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5882145710817476973' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5882145710817476973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5882145710817476973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2011/01/due-mile-e-10-mais-1.html' title='Due mile e 10 mais 1'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TR9cU6c4bsI/AAAAAAAAARY/K5Yt7FJcz1Y/s72-c/Six_feet_under_the_stars_by_6eternity9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1117969351889669079</id><published>2010-08-22T21:31:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T21:36:41.803+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the beatles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Across the Universe (The Beatles)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Words are flying out like&lt;br /&gt;endless rain into a paper cup&lt;br /&gt;They slither while they pass&lt;br /&gt;They slip away across the universe&lt;br /&gt;Pools of sorrow waves of joy&lt;br /&gt;are drifting thorough my open mind&lt;br /&gt;Possessing and caressing me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS:&lt;br /&gt;Jai guru deva om&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's gonna change my world&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's gonna change my world&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's gonna change my world&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's gonna change my world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Images of broken light which&lt;br /&gt;dance before me like a million eyes&lt;br /&gt;That call me on and on across the universe&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts meander like a&lt;br /&gt;restless wind inside a letter box&lt;br /&gt;they tumble blindly as&lt;br /&gt;they make their way across the universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds of laughter shades of life&lt;br /&gt;are ringing through my open ears&lt;br /&gt;exciting and inviting me&lt;br /&gt;Limitless undying love which&lt;br /&gt;shines around me like a million suns&lt;br /&gt;It calls me on and on across the universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;Jai guru deva&lt;br /&gt;Jai guru deva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="250"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WU-_MlQUsN4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WU-_MlQUsN4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="250"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1117969351889669079?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1117969351889669079/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1117969351889669079' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1117969351889669079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1117969351889669079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/08/across-universe-beatles.html' title='Across the Universe (The Beatles)'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3987475657338502109</id><published>2010-08-13T21:54:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T23:15:26.685+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A tua declaração, amiga</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TGW5Rp6okWI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/YoJG7pCNpO8/s1600/Friends_by_gome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 158px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505009832490996066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TGW5Rp6okWI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/YoJG7pCNpO8/s320/Friends_by_gome.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes escolho o reflexo que anseio:&lt;br /&gt;Uma ninfa etérea representada por um qualquer pintor – uma musa&lt;br /&gt;Porque me escondo quando sei que não sou;&lt;br /&gt;porque persigo esse desejo.&lt;br /&gt;E não é uma meta, um objectivo que seja orgulho.&lt;br /&gt;Porque por vezes dói e não quero falar;&lt;br /&gt;se contar sei que é escuro e escorregadio e vou cair.&lt;br /&gt;Porque, as vezes, quero simplesmente não ser, apenas estar no entretanto.&lt;br /&gt;Porque bates incessantemente à porta para eu te deixar ser&lt;br /&gt;Porque te preocupas quando te provoco a ignorares&lt;br /&gt;Porque me fazes abrir os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Porque por vezes sou a desilusão enquanto tu me queres fazer ver os sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Porque gostas do sóbrio mas me mostras sempre a alegria!&lt;br /&gt;Porque não me excluis quando involuntariamente te faço sentir á parte&lt;br /&gt;Porque te identificas comigo e, desse modo, me mostras que sou nobre&lt;br /&gt;Porque apenas uma vez tive a necessidade extrema de fazer uma declaração de amizade&lt;br /&gt;Porque dois teus poemas são pouco&lt;br /&gt;Porque sei que daqui a muitos anos continuaremos a ser grandes amigas!&lt;br /&gt;Porque há acontecimentos que nunca se esquecem, há sombra e luz, estações e meias estações…&lt;br /&gt;Porque neste entretanto cresci tanto e contigo&lt;br /&gt;Porque te conto tudo&lt;br /&gt;Porque percebes mais do que te conto ou do que as palavras diriam&lt;br /&gt;Porque já me viste chorar e rir desbragadamente&lt;br /&gt;Porque és minha irmã&lt;br /&gt;Porque não partilhamos o mesmo ADN mas os sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Porque os sonhos podem mudar mas a partilha nunca&lt;br /&gt;Porque sempre soube que merecias o melhora da vida&lt;br /&gt;E era suposto isto acabar&lt;br /&gt;E por isto digo a tua declaração de amizade&lt;br /&gt;Porque és amiga para sempre e isto é piroso de se dizer&lt;br /&gt;E porque não há melhor forma de te dizer:&lt;br /&gt;Parabéns! pelo estágio e por seres tu, a minha confidente e melhor amiga!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="200" height="175"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XsoaWEPb1EI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XsoaWEPb1EI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="200" height="175"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3987475657338502109?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3987475657338502109/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3987475657338502109' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3987475657338502109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3987475657338502109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/08/tua-declaracao-amiga.html' title='A tua declaração, amiga'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TGW5Rp6okWI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/YoJG7pCNpO8/s72-c/Friends_by_gome.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2095759962395190306</id><published>2010-08-02T17:14:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T17:24:45.880+01:00</updated><title type='text'>imperfeição i nércia</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 181px; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500847524119658626" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TFbvra69QII/AAAAAAAAAQ0/-BOLH1k3aJ8/s320/No_need_to_say_goodbye_by_6eternity9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dou por mim a vaguear pelos corredores destes falsos estreitos pensamentos. A imaginação atravessa-me cravando desejos dolorosos de um outrora. Mas eu estou diferente. Perdi pedaços.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero me encontrar mas não sei como fazê-lo. Com quem? Nem porquê…&lt;br /&gt;Onde estou? Para onde me levam?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já deixei de fazer a contagem das transgressões ao suposto eu. Moldo-me dia a dia. Hoje não sou nada, amanhã serei tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em que canto te escondes ó cavaleiro sem armadura? Houve alguém que te feriu enquanto eu te procurava no espelho. Julguei ver o teu reflexo uma vez. Agora conheço apenas a ilusão do País das Maravilhas. Este é o erro mais comum. A insegurança impregna as nossas atitudes. Deixámos aos estranhos “eu” (o romanticamente fatalista “nós”) o papel de salvadores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não quero ser resgatada por ninguém. Se não sou capaz de agir prefiro engolir-me no meu próprio fracasso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O homem, ai o “home” é um ser insatisfeito. Hoje está tudo mal, amanhã tudo bem. Inconstante! Arrasta o seu corpo pela montanha russa das emoções. E como elas são ilusionistas! Não se medem no agora apenas no depois, no rescaldo do “foi”. Repito, o homem é uma alma volátil capaz de trair o seus mais queridos ideais porque afirma ter encontrado a solução perfeita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, meu querido solucionador: a perfeição não existe! Quantos morreram enquanto a procuravam? Somos imperfeitos, diferentes, voláteis, insatisfeitos, irmãos e inimigos. Não são inúmeras razões para provar que a imperfeição é um oásis?! Não há acordo no que é perfeito! Cada um defende a sua noção de perfeição! O que é ideal agora amanhã já não sei porque as variáveis mudam, certo? A bendita relatividade. Posso defender que encontrei a perfeição mesmo que tu não a reconheças como tal? Claro, apenas é a semi-perfeição, a falsa perfeição, e não é a perfeição. Ela é tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou um pouco cansado do entretanto, do deixa-ver-o-que-vai-dar. Quero tudo ou nada. A vida ou a morte. O grito ou o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rasgar a gulosa inércia que me consome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2095759962395190306?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2095759962395190306/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2095759962395190306' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2095759962395190306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2095759962395190306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/08/imperfeicao-i-nercia.html' title='imperfeição i nércia'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TFbvra69QII/AAAAAAAAAQ0/-BOLH1k3aJ8/s72-c/No_need_to_say_goodbye_by_6eternity9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3382089998659948477</id><published>2010-07-03T21:53:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T22:11:57.679+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que é</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&amp;amp;section=&amp;amp;q=what+is+this#/d18dsdt"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489789670878012098" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TC-mnphK4sI/AAAAAAAAAQs/iUSPO_1o-OQ/s320/what+i+am.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Ao rever tudo o que escrevi penso que é tudo tão nada. Um carrossel de sensações que acabrunham sentimentos. Dissimulação. O Entretanto. Queiram-me desculpar por no presente desconhecer a verdadeira razão. Sou uma criança na ligeireza do tempo. Assoberbam-me os sentidos de emoções que jamais sabia existir. Ainda sou a miúda que usa uma flor no cabelo ondulado. Expresso-me bem através do meu corpo, daquilo que crio. Absorvo a inspiração do quotidiano, dos objectos, dos elementos, dos 6 sentidos, mas acima de tudo dos humanos. As energias que cada ser me transmite é vital. Sempre disse que sou muito psicológica. Afirmo temerariamente que a dor física é controlável pela mente. Há quem concorde. Com essa dor posso eu bem. O meu pior defeito é amar. Não a paixão pois confesso ainda não ser mulher de tal. Amar os humanos de uma forma inocente é a minha fraqueza. Desiludam-se se me apresento de forma “naif”. Eu sou-o! Mas a minha pureza não é intocável. Acredito no equilíbrio: uma forma positivista do “Não faças aos outros o que não queres que te façam a ti” poderia resultar no se dás um sorriso recebes outro. E há o Karma! Mas por vezes negligencio a troca e dou. Isto é amor, há quem diga! Então o amor não é um duo, não se refere a duas almas. Sendo o amor uma construção, no seu processo há diferentes forma de expressá-lo. O que torna errado a prova de amor de um assassino passional? A sociedade confunde-me quando procuro entender o homem. A mente humana assusta-me pois no seu estado puro recua aos instintos primatas. Há o amor e há o egoísmo. Sou egoísta mas, irrelevando qualquer moralismo que não possuo, não tanto. Por vezes preciso fugir deste espectáculo. Recuso a monotonia contudo abomino os passatempos de cruéis bons actores. Talvez a culpa seja minha por não ver para além da minha imaginação. Para mim todos são boas pessoas e aquilo são apenas pequenos defeitos. Depois chega a realidade e esbarra-te com as evidências. Ou elas perseguem-te numa madrugada, tentam dominar-te e queres ser livre que apenas gritas, um só grito de liberdade. Mas está lá. Nunca digas nunca. Por vezes, quero a solidão que tanto me angustia. Penso nela encontrar o meu porto de abrigo. Tento chegar até ti. Procuro um feedback quando quase desisto de acreditar que estás sempre comigo, connosco. Silencio todo e qualquer ruído normativo enquanto me tento desenhar. Os retratos nunca foram o meu forte. Cada dia me esforço por fazer um melhor traçado da realidade. Nunca estou só. Valorizo aquilo que de melhor existe na vida. Ter amigos é amar. Assim vou construindo o que é.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3382089998659948477?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3382089998659948477/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3382089998659948477' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3382089998659948477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3382089998659948477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/07/o-que-e.html' title='O que é'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/TC-mnphK4sI/AAAAAAAAAQs/iUSPO_1o-OQ/s72-c/what+i+am.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5144127412338358519</id><published>2010-06-27T20:22:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T20:57:27.168+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I´ve changed but I'm still the same!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bok-c2-zZws&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bok-c2-zZws&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"Ain't it funny how you think&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be OK&lt;br /&gt;Till you remember things ain't never&lt;br /&gt;Gonna be the same again&lt;br /&gt;The same again&lt;br /&gt;Ain't it crazy how you think&lt;br /&gt;You've got your whole life planned&lt;br /&gt;Just to find that it was never ever&lt;br /&gt;In your hand&lt;br /&gt;In your hand&lt;br /&gt;Change&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;You don't see it coming&lt;br /&gt;Change&lt;br /&gt;When the future comes knocking&lt;br /&gt;It changed&lt;br /&gt;It can make you or break you too&lt;br /&gt;You'd just have to make it through&lt;br /&gt;(You'd just have to make it through)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change, change&lt;br /&gt;Change, change"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5144127412338358519?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5144127412338358519/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5144127412338358519' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5144127412338358519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5144127412338358519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-changed-but-im-still-same.html' title='I´ve changed but I&apos;m still the same!'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1677221585836417691</id><published>2010-05-22T23:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T00:29:30.642+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Carta a um amigo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’m in love with a fairy tale even though it hurts. São histórias de encantar que nos iluminam o pensamento. Criam-nos ilusões sobre a perfeição. Sugerem o bater acelerado do coração, as borboletas no estômago e o enredo dramaticamente romântico, como indicadores de uma promessa de amor ideal.&lt;br /&gt;A perfeição não existe. É apenas algo que permite ao homem insatisfeito almejar. Há a harmonia. O equilíbrio que se encontra entre o que desejamos e o que podemos ter. Desistir de sonhar? Nunca. Apenas merecemos o que conquistámos. O sonho faz-nos andar! Mas o momento perfeito, o “mister right”, o romance ideal não existe. Cabe a cada um de nós nunca perder a vontade de alcançar a harmonia. Não dá para ficar sentados e esperar que tudo aconteça de modo que queremos apenas porque sabemos que temos direito.&lt;br /&gt;Temos direito de sonhar e o dever de agir. Somos nós que criamos o nosso destino! Pelo meio esbarramos em muitos obstáculos, tropeçamos. Oh, se caímos! Levanta-te! Nunca estamos sós mas somos apenas nós que temos de ter vontade para fazê-lo.&lt;br /&gt;Perdoa-me se já não pareço tão idealista. Como diria Rousseau “a sociedade corrompeu o homem” pois ele era selvagem agora actua como marioneta controlada pelos idealismos pós-modernista. Numa anologia ao pensamento deste filósofo, também a minha ingenuidade vai desvanecendo. O contacto obrigatório com outras marionetas criou peças que julguei saber a trama. Ingénua.&lt;br /&gt;A sociedade é hipócrita. O exemplo maior encontra-se nos filmes românticos. Supostamente a sinceridade é sempre o caminho para a felicidade. Esquecem-se que o homem é um animal que pensa. Consegue ludibriar os seus instintos com toda a sua tendência egoísta. Pensava que era corajosa quando assumia destemidamente o que sentia. Não. Era apenas ingénua ao pensar que esse facto tornaria a situação naquele desfecho romanticamente ideal. O homem está certo. Há que resguardar-nos pois o meu pior defeito é acreditar que todas as pessoas são boas. Porque hei-de eu acreditar que não? Porque já tive a prova. Mas um ou dois não fazem a maioria.&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma vez desculpa-me por não acreditar tão piamente na harmonia das relações. We told your friends we exist but we’re taking it slow.&lt;br /&gt;E se não der certo? Vamos virar as costas um ao outro e fingir que nada se passou? Ou iremos debatê-lo até ao limite de pedra ser “pedra”? Seremos capazes de pedir desculpa pelos nossos erros? Mas acima de tudo, iremos continuar a respeitar-nos? Podes prometer fazer a coisa certa? Às vezes temos de ser egoístas, personalizar a nossa superficialidade.&lt;br /&gt;Não me julgues tão fria e objectiva. Sei que não consigo ser assim. No fim da história, voltarei a acreditar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…meses depois…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acreditei. Não senti borboletas nem ouvi sinfonias. Iludi-me. Não me apaixonei. Dei tempo e agi. Tomei pulso firme mas não fui fria. Não consegui. Desculpei-me sinceramente pelas minhas incoerências.&lt;br /&gt;Fizemos a coisa certa. Despedimo-nos com um até já na amizade. Emoções leva-as o vento mas o respeito tem de ser constante. Obrigada por me provares que há um depois, meu amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1677221585836417691?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1677221585836417691/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1677221585836417691' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1677221585836417691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1677221585836417691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/05/carta-um-amigo.html' title='Carta a um amigo'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4130428572717226620</id><published>2010-04-27T16:06:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T21:18:45.490+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nua sou assim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de dançar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de cantar contigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro criar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de costurar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Divirto-me a rabiscar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou feliz a cuidar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro dizer que te amo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sinto-me bem a sorrir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Acho piada a quem me faz dar gargalhadas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não suporto desilusões&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não gosto de emoções (leva-as o vento)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Detesto hopócritas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dói perder amigos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não aceito meias-verdades&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Detesto pessoas que culpam os outros para fugir à verdade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Odeio quem não sabe aceitar e corrigir os erros&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;É-me difícil compreender a imaturidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Invejo-os porque são ignorantes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pergunto-me se sabem o que são consequências&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Irrita-me quem se disfarça de inocente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho a mania de querer agradar a gregos e a troianos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não gosto de confrontos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho medo de já não querer saber&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Se entro numa discussão é para ganhar (nem que seja o entendimento do outro quanto ao meu ponto de vista)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho receio (constante) de desafinar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de ver-te a rir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro dizer adoro-te&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou feliz no meio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de lavar a alma de vez em quando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sonho acordada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho tendência por amores platónicos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Assusta-me a mudança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas preciso dela com frequência&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aprendi a arriscar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro pessoas que me façam ir mais além&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de aprender contigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não me canso de aprender&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tenho medo da solidão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas preciso dela às vezes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Vou entrar num musical, um dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de divagar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro seduzir sem querer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou mulher que aparenta criança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Falo de forma infantil para ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou uma romântica mas não lamechas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou apaixonada pelo amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de dar as mãos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de músicas mas não sou fã de bandas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto que me perguntem o que penso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de declarações de amor e amizade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou céptica quanto ao amor à primeira vista&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Prefiro chamá-lo de paixão à primeira vista&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou uma insatisfeita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou uma aluada com os pés quase na terra (a minha gravidade é insconstante)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Estou cada vez mais irresponsável&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sabe bem respirar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou incapaz de trair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só estou contigo se te amar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Detesto enganar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou egoísta pois espero reciprocidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Acredito no Karma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não faças aos outros o que não queres que te façam a ti&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto da sinceridade&lt;br /&gt;Adoro boas surpresas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de escrever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de declarar o que sinto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro feedback&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou complicada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Perdoo mas não esqueço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Por vezes esqueço-me do que quero dizer (mesmo que seja importante)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro comunicar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto de ser e estar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Adoro a primavera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto do sol quente e da brisa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gosto do cheiro a maresia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Estou desperta nos cinco sentidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sou intuitiva&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E tu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4130428572717226620?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4130428572717226620/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4130428572717226620' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4130428572717226620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4130428572717226620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/04/nua-sou-assim.html' title='Nua sou assim'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6145910487693142696</id><published>2010-04-22T17:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T17:40:44.370+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Há dias assim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Há dias assim&lt;br /&gt;Que nos deixam sós&lt;br /&gt;A alma vazia&lt;br /&gt;A mágoa na voz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos as mãos&lt;br /&gt;Tanto as apertámos&lt;br /&gt;Já não há palavras&lt;br /&gt;Foi de tanto as calarmos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há uma canção&lt;br /&gt;Que não te cantei&lt;br /&gt;Versos por rimar&lt;br /&gt;Poemas que nunca inventei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem nos pôs assim?&lt;br /&gt;A vida rasgada&lt;br /&gt;Quem te me levou?&lt;br /&gt;Roubou-me a alma&lt;br /&gt;Mas de ti não sabe nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há dias assim&lt;br /&gt;Não há que esconder&lt;br /&gt;Recear palavras&lt;br /&gt;Amar ou sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ocultar sentidos&lt;br /&gt;Fingir que não há&lt;br /&gt;Há dias perdidos&lt;br /&gt;Entre cá e lá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há uma canção&lt;br /&gt;Que não te cantei&lt;br /&gt;Versos por rimar&lt;br /&gt;Poemas que nunca inventei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem nos pôs assim?&lt;br /&gt;A vida rasgada&lt;br /&gt;Quem te me levou?&lt;br /&gt;Roubou-me a alma&lt;br /&gt;Mas de ti não sabe nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que um dia saberás&lt;br /&gt;Que a vida é uma só&lt;br /&gt;Não volta atrás&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem nos pôs assim?&lt;br /&gt;A vida rasgada&lt;br /&gt;Quem te me levou&lt;br /&gt;Roubou-me a alma&lt;br /&gt;Mas de ti não sabe nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6145910487693142696?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6145910487693142696/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6145910487693142696' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6145910487693142696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6145910487693142696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/04/ha-dias-assim.html' title='Há dias assim'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-8407306268232368957</id><published>2010-04-02T22:12:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T22:17:50.048+01:00</updated><title type='text'>All around me - Flyleaf</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xN0FFK8JSYE&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xN0FFK8JSYE&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands are searching for you&lt;br /&gt;My arms are outstretched towards you&lt;br /&gt;I feel you on my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;My tongue dances behind my lips for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This fire rising through my being&lt;br /&gt;Burning I'm not used to seeing you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm alive, I'm alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel you all around me&lt;br /&gt;Thickening the air I'm breathing&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to what I'm feeling&lt;br /&gt;Savoring this heart that's healing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hands float up above me&lt;br /&gt;And you whisper you love me&lt;br /&gt;And I begin to fade&lt;br /&gt;Into our secret place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music makes me sway&lt;br /&gt;The angels singing say we are alone with you&lt;br /&gt;I am alone and they are too with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm alive, I'm alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel you all around me&lt;br /&gt;Thickening the air I'm breathing&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to what I'm feeling&lt;br /&gt;Savoring this heart that's healing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I cry&lt;br /&gt;The light is white&lt;br /&gt;And I see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel you all around me&lt;br /&gt;Thickening the air I'm breathing&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to what I'm feeling&lt;br /&gt;Savoring this heart that's healing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand&lt;br /&gt;I give it to you&lt;br /&gt;Now you own me&lt;br /&gt;All I am&lt;br /&gt;You said you would never leave me&lt;br /&gt;I believe you&lt;br /&gt;I believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel you all around me&lt;br /&gt;Thickening the air I'm breathing&lt;br /&gt;Holding on to what I'm feeling&lt;br /&gt;Savoring this heart that's healed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-8407306268232368957?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8407306268232368957/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=8407306268232368957' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8407306268232368957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8407306268232368957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/04/all-around-me-flyleaf.html' title='All around me - Flyleaf'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2687323867187158472</id><published>2010-02-23T16:09:00.006Z</published><updated>2010-02-23T16:15:52.002Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paramore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='believing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>"I'm on my way to believing"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-J7J_IWUhls&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;hd=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-J7J_IWUhls&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2687323867187158472?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2687323867187158472/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2687323867187158472' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2687323867187158472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2687323867187158472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-on-my-way-to-believing.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m on my way to believing&quot;'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-9182197250989286530</id><published>2010-02-15T22:03:00.005Z</published><updated>2010-02-23T16:13:48.136Z</updated><title type='text'>Girl's magic! :p</title><content type='html'>"Oh, Lu, olha a tua música" :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xn9lLnVurYI&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;hd=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xn9lLnVurYI&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;hd=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta música vicia, não é meninas? :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-9182197250989286530?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/9182197250989286530/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=9182197250989286530' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/9182197250989286530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/9182197250989286530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/02/girls-magic-p.html' title='Girl&apos;s magic! :p'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5820647058139991417</id><published>2010-01-29T17:55:00.005Z</published><updated>2010-01-29T19:02:44.780Z</updated><title type='text'>Primavera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/S2MqnJQ-iuI/AAAAAAAAAPs/YauvGbGJTf0/s1600-h/Dalia_by_vamp_princess667.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432232427529341666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/S2MqnJQ-iuI/AAAAAAAAAPs/YauvGbGJTf0/s320/Dalia_by_vamp_princess667.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Apetecia-me dizer que fui capaz. Mentiria. Acobardei-me como qualquer folha de outono. Caí, calei e perdi. Se fosse a traduzir a questão em números, diria que estou em débito. É incrivelmente fácil dissumular as dúvidas como culpas nos actos dos outros. Vergonha por tê-lo feito. A minha vida sou eu que a crio. Nunca realmente lhe tomei as rédeas. Se voltava atrás e seguia outro déjá-vù? Não sei. Mais uma vez deixei que ele, o tempo todo poderoso e a solução mais fácil, agitasse o que morreu quando apenas queria que declarasse o óbito. Confesso o meu erro. Embrulhei-me no meu orgulho ferido. Peço desculpa. Que me serve agora a expiação dos meus pecados? Paz! Preciso que ela seja constante. Porque eu sou assim mas perdi-me no meio de dramas que construí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estou a criar a minha Primavera. Enquanto isso sou a...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Distraída. Sempre me vi como aluadamente distraída. Não do tipo que não percebe o que se passava à volta mas do género sonhadora. Porque eu apercebo-me e sinto. Por vezes dói. Como agora. Passa? Claro que passa. Tudo vai e tudo vem. A minha dúvida está nas segundas oportunidades." Nunca acreditei nelas. "Será justo esperar pelo momento certo? Mas o que é isso de perfeição temporal? Canções de embalar que inventaram para os temerosos. Acredito na força dos sentimentos. Emoções leva-as o vento. Tudo o que nos impele a agir é bom. Somos actores da nossa vida. O que fazemos determina o que será. Por vezes não sei de mim. Mas agora estou aqui. Depois não sei." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stand by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5820647058139991417?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5820647058139991417/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5820647058139991417' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5820647058139991417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5820647058139991417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/01/primavera.html' title='Primavera'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/S2MqnJQ-iuI/AAAAAAAAAPs/YauvGbGJTf0/s72-c/Dalia_by_vamp_princess667.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4684459281692327289</id><published>2010-01-16T19:38:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-29T19:09:01.042Z</updated><title type='text'>Passado</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Já pensei demasiadas vezes no que poderia mudar. A solução é uma constante: nada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;Tudo se perdeu rasgado pela desilusão do que és. Quis desculpar a inconsistência, o melodrama. Apenas me resta a pena, pena de quem te estás a tornar. Estou cansada do teu fingimento, da falta de respeito que demonstras por mim. Acho que nunca te vou conseguir perdoar. Certamente, nunca o vou esquecer. É a tristeza que me domina: o tudo ter acabado num tornado que agita o vazio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4684459281692327289?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4684459281692327289/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4684459281692327289' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4684459281692327289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4684459281692327289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2010/01/passado.html' title='Passado'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1179746240943726926</id><published>2009-12-19T20:34:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:39:34.366Z</updated><title type='text'>Which Beatles song are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sy0541EAeHI/AAAAAAAAAPc/VgxY_PhDR7A/s1600-h/holding+hands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 95px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417049575275919474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sy0541EAeHI/AAAAAAAAAPc/VgxY_PhDR7A/s320/holding+hands.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're "I Wanna Hold Your Hand". A hopeless romantic, but a bubbly, exciting popular person. It's impossible not to smile while your around, and people fall for you as you fall for them. Your smile is what keeps your friends going, and even though on the outside you seem like a confident lover, inside, you're nervous around your crush, but still your cheerful and bubbly personality shines through. Never growing up, your the life of the party. "Oh, please, say to me, you'll let me be your man, and please, say to me: You'll let me hold your hand!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1179746240943726926?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1179746240943726926/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1179746240943726926' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1179746240943726926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1179746240943726926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/12/which-beatles-song-are-you.html' title='Which Beatles song are you?'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sy0541EAeHI/AAAAAAAAAPc/VgxY_PhDR7A/s72-c/holding+hands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1511186527689254809</id><published>2009-12-09T22:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-09T22:34:27.806Z</updated><title type='text'>Being me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;«Conflict - it's everywhere you look, it touches everything you do, every relationship we have. Isn't it funny how at their core, all fights are the same. Two people yelling, or accusing, or running away. Two people doing anything to avoid telling each other what they really feel. Just talk when you want to run, reveal when you want to attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so simple, so obvious. And at the same time, so incredibly hard.» &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Being Erica, Battle Royale - Season 2, Episode 2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1511186527689254809?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1511186527689254809/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1511186527689254809' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1511186527689254809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1511186527689254809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/12/being-me.html' title='Being me'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1259384399526172080</id><published>2009-12-01T00:40:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-12-01T00:52:03.229Z</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3GtVS8iXEuo&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3GtVS8iXEuo&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a breath, take it deep&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calm yourself, he says to me&lt;br /&gt;If you play, you play for keeps&lt;br /&gt;Take a gun, and count to three&lt;br /&gt;I’m sweating now, moving slow&lt;br /&gt;No time to think, my turn to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And you can see my heart beating&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see it through my chest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I’m terrified but I’m not leaving&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Know that I must must pass this test&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just pull the trigger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say a prayer to yourself&lt;br /&gt;He says close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it helps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And then I get a scary thought&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That he’s here means he’s never lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As my life flashes before my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I’m wondering will I ever see another sunrise?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So many won’t get the chance to say goodbye&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s too late too pick up the value of my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I know I will but for now let me just say &lt;em&gt;Goodbye&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1259384399526172080?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1259384399526172080/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1259384399526172080' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1259384399526172080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1259384399526172080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/12/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4594006589740486901</id><published>2009-11-15T13:12:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-15T13:24:11.463Z</updated><title type='text'>Broken-Hearted Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0csLlzdhAPk&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0csLlzdhAPk&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You’re everything I thought you never were&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nothing like I thought you could’ve been&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But still you live inside of me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So tell me how is that?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re the only one I wish I could forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The only one I’d love to not forgive&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And though you break my heart, you’re the only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And though there are times when I hate you&lt;br /&gt;Cause I can’t erase&lt;br /&gt;The times that you hurt me&lt;br /&gt;And put tears on my face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even now while I hate you&lt;br /&gt;It pains me to say&lt;br /&gt;I know I’ll be there at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t wanna be without you babe&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;Don’t wanna take a breath with out you babe&lt;br /&gt;I don’t wanna play that part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know that I love you&lt;br /&gt;But let me just say&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to love you in no kind of way no no&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t wanna play the broken-hearted girl...No...No&lt;br /&gt;No broken-hearted girl&lt;br /&gt;I’m no broken-hearted girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something that I feel I need to say&lt;br /&gt;But up to now I’ve always been afraid&lt;br /&gt;That you would never come around&lt;br /&gt;And still I want to put this out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You say you’ve got the most respect for me&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes I feel you’re not deserving me&lt;br /&gt;And still you’re in my heart&lt;br /&gt;But you’re the only one and yes&lt;br /&gt;There are times when I hate you&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t complain&lt;br /&gt;Cause I’ve been afraid that you would've walk away&lt;br /&gt;Oh but now I don’t hate you&lt;br /&gt;I’m happy to say&lt;br /&gt;That I will be there at the end of the day&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t wanna be without you babe&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;Don’t wanna take a breath with out you babe&lt;br /&gt;I don’t wanna play that part&lt;br /&gt;I know that I love you&lt;br /&gt;But let me just say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don’t want to love you in no kind of way no no&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want a broken heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I don’t wanna play the broken-hearted girl...No…No&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No broken-hearted girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m at a place I thought I’d never be…Oooo&lt;br /&gt;I’m living in a world that’s all about you and me…yeah&lt;br /&gt;Ain't gotta be afraid my broken heart is free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To spread my wings and fly away&lt;br /&gt;Away With you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah yeah yeah, ohh ohh ohh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já posso criar a nossa lista de músicas! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4594006589740486901?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4594006589740486901/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4594006589740486901' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4594006589740486901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4594006589740486901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/11/broken-hearted-girl.html' title='Broken-Hearted Girl'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-8338312340050962761</id><published>2009-11-08T17:46:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T18:14:25.940Z</updated><title type='text'>As minha Músicas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SvcInm35dVI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/OrPcI9CM938/s1600-h/radio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 260px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401795754597119314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SvcInm35dVI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/OrPcI9CM938/s320/radio.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A rádio está sempre ligada. As melodias entoam-se constantemente na minha casa. Tenho notado que há dois dias certas músicas voltaram a ser tocadas. Nada parece estranho a não ser o facto de estas terem sabor a momentos passados. Etapa triste da minha vida, diria. Hoje, novamente, dou por mim a cantarolar uma canção. Certamente a ouvi algures e o meu sub-consciente, agora, reprodu-la. Aqui estão as lembranças sonoras: &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The boy does nothing - Alesha Dixon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Gravity - Sara Bareilles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hatin' on the Club - Rihanna &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;All in my head - Katie Melua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mais informação?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-8338312340050962761?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8338312340050962761/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=8338312340050962761' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8338312340050962761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8338312340050962761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/11/as-minha-musicas.html' title='As minha Músicas'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SvcInm35dVI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/OrPcI9CM938/s72-c/radio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1152110791080118623</id><published>2009-10-04T16:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T16:42:27.565+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Communication - Cardigans</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTpaZf9xqGg&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PTpaZf9xqGg&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For 27 years I’ve been trying to believe and confide in&lt;br /&gt;Different people I’ve found.&lt;br /&gt;Some of them got closer than others&lt;br /&gt;And someone wouldn’t even bother and then you came around&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t really know what to call you, you didn’t know me at all&lt;br /&gt;But I was happy to explain.&lt;br /&gt;I never really knew how to move you&lt;br /&gt;So I tried to intrude through the little holes in your veins&lt;br /&gt;And I saw you&lt;br /&gt;But that’s not an invitation&lt;br /&gt;That’s all I get&lt;br /&gt;If this is communication&lt;br /&gt;I disconnect&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen you, I know you&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;How to connect, so I disconnect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always seem to know where to find me and I’m still here behind you&lt;br /&gt;In the corner of your eye.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never really learn how to love you&lt;br /&gt;But I know that I love you through the hole in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I see you&lt;br /&gt;And that’s not an invitation&lt;br /&gt;That’s all I get&lt;br /&gt;If this is communication&lt;br /&gt;I disconnect&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen you, I know you&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;How to connect, so I disconnect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is an invitation&lt;br /&gt;It’s not a threat&lt;br /&gt;If you want communication&lt;br /&gt;That’s what you get&lt;br /&gt;I’m talking and talking&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;How to connect&lt;br /&gt;And I hold a record for being patient&lt;br /&gt;With your kind of hesitation&lt;br /&gt;I need you, you want me&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;How to connect, so I disconnect&lt;br /&gt;I disconnect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1152110791080118623?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1152110791080118623/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1152110791080118623' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1152110791080118623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1152110791080118623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/10/communication-cardigans.html' title='Communication - Cardigans'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4233817008412519020</id><published>2009-10-02T15:36:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T22:25:36.717+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desiquilíbrio</title><content type='html'>Desiquilibrei-me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;Nem sei bem o que dizer. Muda não serei. Estou apenas cansada de um jornada que já tem meses. Tentei e até dizer "chega" vou tentar. Queria uma solução para as desilusões que não cessam. Há coisas que não deviam precisar de ser ditas. Nem mesmo agora consigo poetisar a coisa. Mas o quê? A vida no plural. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Deixa-me estar na solidão que cultivaste. Solitário. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não desvendes as tuas dúvidas. Enigmático. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Acerca-me da realidade moldável. Indeciso. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mas não cries duplicidades. Inconstante.&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei ao meu limite...desiquilibrei-me.&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/8006499754498707416-4233817008412519020?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4233817008412519020/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4233817008412519020' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4233817008412519020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4233817008412519020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/10/desiquilibrio.html' title='Desiquilíbrio'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5093619415308719386</id><published>2009-09-07T20:45:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T21:07:00.947+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Algo teu</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2QDhOOeGOSE&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2QDhOOeGOSE&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;É só o nada a bater-nos à porta&lt;br /&gt;E a mim importa-me que estejas a meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto o medo vai dançando à nossa volta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É só uma imagem que sonhámos doce imagem&lt;br /&gt;Nada que um dia após o outro reproduza&lt;br /&gt;Mas meu amor estaremos sempre de passagem&lt;br /&gt;Esquece o que eles dizem sobre um grande amor&lt;br /&gt;Quem podia mais querer-te como eu&lt;br /&gt;Nada que acredite conseguir mostrar pois é algo teu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5093619415308719386?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5093619415308719386/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5093619415308719386' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5093619415308719386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5093619415308719386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/09/algo-teu.html' title='Algo teu'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3682840763046435166</id><published>2009-08-08T21:57:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T22:45:23.112+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As palavras que te direi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sn3vUMn0CEI/AAAAAAAAAO4/tD8exxqjG6o/s1600-h/Broken_promises__by_Anoya.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367709461160134722" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sn3vUMn0CEI/AAAAAAAAAO4/tD8exxqjG6o/s320/Broken_promises__by_Anoya.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Today we remember to live and to love".&lt;/em&gt; Tinha cerca de 8 anos quando vi algo que nunca quis. Era demasiado criança para entender o que se passava. O barulho era doloroso. As vozes obedeciam a uma hierarquia. Ele mandava, a outra justificava-se. Lembro-me de sentir esse mundo na pele. Não era justo. Muito menos aceitável que ela também sofresse. Chorei. Adoeci. Aquela realidade não devia ser minha, nossa, de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes perguntam-me como consegui ser assim. Assim como? Ultrapassar o trauma? Não sei o que entender destas questões. Sorrir é sempre a melhor opção. O remédio certamente é o amor. Ela estava lá. Continua cá. A minha força. Ele também. Eles não. Eles não sei quem são. Estranhos. A morte era tentadora. Queria tentar. Desistir. Acabar com o sofrimento. Hoje estou aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes, dou por mim a desejar o término. Facilitaria a vida se ela não houvesse. Imagino que padeço de uma doença incurável. Em que é que tudo isto contribui para que os outros me vejam? Lamento, a minha imaginação dá-me inúmeras respostas. Nenhuma praticável. A ilusão é sempre tão perfeita, tão nossa e fugitiva. Se atender a uma análise psicológica diriam que necessito de atenção. Então, mimem-me. Conclusões como esta só me fazem rir da parvoíce que me impregna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esqueçam as esmolas. Aturei por muito tempo a piedade falseada do quotidiano. Cresci. Sofri? Claro, mas ergui-me e aqui estou. Podem ter sobrado marcas mas então que sejam elas as tatuagens que não tenho. O medo esta sempre por perto. Assola-me cada vez que tenho de decidir o presente. Não quero a realidade que eles criaram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembro-me de um elogio que a professora Josefina me fez aquando estudava Artes, no secundário. Dizia ela que eu nunca cometia o mesmo erro. Julgo que apenas se aplica ao meu português. Mesmo nesse tenho dúvidas. Vejo que continuo a ser a mesma tonta. A necessidade de agradar alastrou-se. O “eu” foge assolapado. Prevalece o “te”. Será justo? Equilíbrio falta-lhe seguramente. Este prato da balança pesa demais. Aos poucos a força é sugada. Preciso de desistir. Há muita tentação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço. Tudo se resume à fadiga de uma batalha para a qual me deixei arrastar. Sou agora mais experiente. O compasso estava desregulado. A solução definitivamente não era Actimel. Era a calma do tempo que voa. Aprendi que ele tudo cura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dizem que a vida não perdoa. Não o perdoo nem procuro absolvição. Apenas uma nova esperança que me faça sorrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;Não quis exagerar no uso da palavra. Não quis a leviandade. Pouco a pouco haveria de ser construído. Havia empenho. Meu. Despi-me de dúvidas. Deixaste-me cair. Agora visto a armadura. Tornaste-te estranho. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3682840763046435166?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3682840763046435166/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3682840763046435166' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3682840763046435166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3682840763046435166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/08/as-palavras-que-te-direi.html' title='As palavras que te direi'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sn3vUMn0CEI/AAAAAAAAAO4/tD8exxqjG6o/s72-c/Broken_promises__by_Anoya.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6751107274541531362</id><published>2009-08-06T16:23:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T16:32:13.446+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra ser sincero</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XW0kzYpiFrY&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6&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/XW0kzYpiFrY&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu era tão feliz&lt;br /&gt;E não sabia, amor&lt;br /&gt;Fiz tudo que eu quis&lt;br /&gt;Confesso a minha dor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E era tão real&lt;br /&gt;Que eu só fazia fantasia&lt;br /&gt;E não fazia mal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora é tanto amor&lt;br /&gt;Me abrace como foi&lt;br /&gt;Te adoro e você vem comigo&lt;br /&gt;Aonde quer que eu vôe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o que passou, calou&lt;br /&gt;E o que virá, que dirá&lt;br /&gt;E só ao seu lado&lt;br /&gt;Seu telhado&lt;br /&gt;Me faz feliz de novo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo vai passar&lt;br /&gt;E tudo vai entrar&lt;br /&gt;No jeito certo&lt;br /&gt;De nós dois...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As coisas são assim&lt;br /&gt;E se será, que será&lt;br /&gt;Pra ser sincero&lt;br /&gt;Meu remédio é&lt;br /&gt;Te amar, te amar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não pense, por favor&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não sei dizer&lt;br /&gt;Que é amor tudo&lt;br /&gt;O que eu sinto&lt;br /&gt;Longe de você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6751107274541531362?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6751107274541531362/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6751107274541531362' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6751107274541531362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6751107274541531362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/08/pra-ser-sincero.html' title='Pra ser sincero'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-8198340639333296514</id><published>2009-07-15T18:57:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T23:47:40.561+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Stand by</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sl-t-75W4bI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ySDNi2u_xCs/s1600-h/stand_still_by_jyoujo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359193378335941042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 143px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sl-t-75W4bI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ySDNi2u_xCs/s200/stand_still_by_jyoujo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Distraída. Sempre me vi como aluadamente distraída. Não do tipo que não percebe o que se passava à volta mas do género sonhadora. Porque eu apercebo-me e sinto. Por vezes dói. Como agora. Passa? Claro que passa. Tudo vai e tudo vem. A minha dúvida está nas segundas oportunidades. Será justo esperar pelo momento certo? Mas o que é isso de perfeição temporal? Canções de embalar que inventaram para os temerosos. Acredito na força dos sentimentos. Emoções leva-as o vento. Tudo o que nos impele a agir é bom. Somos actores da nossa vida. O que fazemos determina o que será. Por vezes não sei de mim. Mas agora estou aqui. Depois não sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-8198340639333296514?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8198340639333296514/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=8198340639333296514' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8198340639333296514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8198340639333296514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/07/stand-by.html' title='Stand by'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sl-t-75W4bI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ySDNi2u_xCs/s72-c/stand_still_by_jyoujo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6147819377001599583</id><published>2009-06-14T21:24:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T21:42:42.757+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Step by step...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SjVgNNP185I/AAAAAAAAAN4/MU4LixSxeZc/s1600-h/Dance_with_me__by_GoldenSands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347285912583009170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SjVgNNP185I/AAAAAAAAAN4/MU4LixSxeZc/s200/Dance_with_me__by_GoldenSands.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" (...) You can do your betting, we're getting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some fun out of life (...) "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;in Getting some fun out of life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347286167887565010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SjVgcEVMUNI/AAAAAAAAAOA/SuCNM-oxuss/s200/Rain_Dance_03_by_fbuk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;" (...) Show me slowly what I only know the limits of &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dance me to the end of love (...) "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;in Dance me to the end of love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6147819377001599583?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6147819377001599583/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6147819377001599583' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6147819377001599583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6147819377001599583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/06/step-by-step.html' title='Step by step...'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SjVgNNP185I/AAAAAAAAAN4/MU4LixSxeZc/s72-c/Dance_with_me__by_GoldenSands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6346077838790223936</id><published>2009-06-10T18:27:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T18:35:21.117+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I just feel like saying...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Si_uuPQXCrI/AAAAAAAAANg/tVRLw3QD1gM/s1600-h/moon_light_by_tangleduptight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345753760848612018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Si_uuPQXCrI/AAAAAAAAANg/tVRLw3QD1gM/s200/moon_light_by_tangleduptight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I'm done..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6346077838790223936?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6346077838790223936/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6346077838790223936' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6346077838790223936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6346077838790223936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-just-feel-like-saying.html' title='I just feel like saying...'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Si_uuPQXCrI/AAAAAAAAANg/tVRLw3QD1gM/s72-c/moon_light_by_tangleduptight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2516304259362798777</id><published>2009-05-28T23:09:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T14:43:04.558+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Porque</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sh8McKNdtsI/AAAAAAAAAL0/dqBIRunWxKE/s1600-h/29050ddc543f29c2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341001361001395906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sh8McKNdtsI/AAAAAAAAAL0/dqBIRunWxKE/s320/29050ddc543f29c2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque por vezes me custa falar.&lt;br /&gt;Porque por vezes não sou corajosa o suficiente para dizer.&lt;br /&gt;Porque queria ser outra na minha pele.&lt;br /&gt;Porque gostar nem sempre é certo.&lt;br /&gt;Porque se fosse matemática o mais correcto era ser isso.&lt;br /&gt;Porque seria apenas isso sem um mas.&lt;br /&gt;Porque o mas sempre atrapalha.&lt;br /&gt;Porque não sei ir mais longe de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Porque nunca quis voltar atrás.&lt;br /&gt;Porque quero fazer do presente um passado melhorado.&lt;br /&gt;Porque por vezes penso que vou tropeçar…&lt;br /&gt;Porque não sei se nasci para…&lt;br /&gt;Porque me esgoto nos porquês.&lt;br /&gt;Porque é&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; do que preciso.&lt;br /&gt;Porque mais do que necessidade é&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; o que quero,&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã vou ser capaz! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S. - Este poema contém uma mensagem subliminar :p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2516304259362798777?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2516304259362798777/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2516304259362798777' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2516304259362798777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2516304259362798777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/05/porque.html' title='Porque'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Sh8McKNdtsI/AAAAAAAAAL0/dqBIRunWxKE/s72-c/29050ddc543f29c2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3789106195731557348</id><published>2009-05-17T14:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T14:41:07.023+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairytale - Alexander Rybac (Norway - ESC)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/ShAT6XQZzmI/AAAAAAAAALQ/RxzQ6u-X6nU/s1600-h/Him-and-Frikar-on-stage-alexander-rybak-4429717-650-367.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336787451830193762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/ShAT6XQZzmI/AAAAAAAAALQ/RxzQ6u-X6nU/s320/Him-and-Frikar-on-stage-alexander-rybak-4429717-650-367.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Years ago, when I was younger,&lt;br /&gt;I kinda liked a girl I knew.&lt;br /&gt;She was mine, and we were sweethearts&lt;br /&gt;That was then, but then it’s true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m in love with a fairytale,&lt;br /&gt;even though it hurts&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind&lt;br /&gt;I’m already cursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day we started fighting,&lt;br /&gt;every night we fell in love&lt;br /&gt;No one else could make me sadder,&lt;br /&gt;but no one else could lift me high above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what I was doing,&lt;br /&gt;when suddenly, we fell apart&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I cannot find her&lt;br /&gt;But when I do, we’ll get a brand new start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m in love with a fairytale,&lt;br /&gt;even though it hurts&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind&lt;br /&gt;I’m already cursed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s a fairytale&lt;br /&gt;Yeah…&lt;br /&gt;Even though it hurts&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind&lt;br /&gt;I’m already cursed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3789106195731557348?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3789106195731557348/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3789106195731557348' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3789106195731557348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3789106195731557348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/05/fairytale-alexander-rybac-norway-esc.html' title='Fairytale - Alexander Rybac (Norway - ESC)'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/ShAT6XQZzmI/AAAAAAAAALQ/RxzQ6u-X6nU/s72-c/Him-and-Frikar-on-stage-alexander-rybak-4429717-650-367.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-7298311660838610800</id><published>2009-05-10T22:16:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T23:17:56.329+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Despertar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SgdSEFbHkZI/AAAAAAAAALI/MnqW5MA3AhE/s1600-h/the+painted+veil_pic.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334322513772515730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 163px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SgdSEFbHkZI/AAAAAAAAALI/MnqW5MA3AhE/s320/the+painted+veil_pic.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo passa. Mesmo quando tal parece impossível. Mesmo quando cada tiquetaque do ponteiro dos segundos dói com o palpitar do sangue sobre a ferida. Passa de forma irregular, em estranhos avanços e pausas que se arrastam. Mas lá passar, passa. Até para mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me era permitido pensar nele. Este era um aspecto em relação à qual tentava ser bastante rigorosa. Evidentemente que cometia deslizes; era humana. Contudo, estava a melhorar e, nesse sentido, a dor era algo que conseguia evitar há já vários dias. Em contrapartida, deparava-me com um amontoamento interminável. Entre a dor e o nada, eu optara pelo nada. (…)&lt;br /&gt;A única coisa que me fazia sofrer era a voz dele estar a desaparecer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que me esforçasse para não pensar nele, também não o tentava esquecer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No entanto, descobri que sobreviria. Se estava acordada, sentia dor – um penoso sentimento de perda que irradiava do meu peito, gerando terríveis ondas que me percorriam os membros e a cabeça -, mas era tolerável. Conseguia suportá-la. Não sentia que a dor enfraquecera com o passar do tempo, mas que me tinha tornado o suficientemente forte para conseguir aguentá-la. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Lua Nova de Setephenie Meyer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-7298311660838610800?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7298311660838610800/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=7298311660838610800' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7298311660838610800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7298311660838610800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/05/despertar.html' title='Despertar'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SgdSEFbHkZI/AAAAAAAAALI/MnqW5MA3AhE/s72-c/the+painted+veil_pic.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3682138373947379106</id><published>2009-04-05T21:34:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T01:27:38.864+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Unintended - Muse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdkYfgvEFRI/AAAAAAAAAJg/bvXoPxLj6Lc/s1600-h/Unintended_by_SashSensei.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321311364357297426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdkYfgvEFRI/AAAAAAAAAJg/bvXoPxLj6Lc/s320/Unintended_by_SashSensei.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You could be my unintended choice&lt;br /&gt;To live my life extended&lt;br /&gt;You could be the one i'll always love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions&lt;br /&gt;You could be the one i'll always love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there as soon as i can&lt;br /&gt;But i'm busy&lt;br /&gt;Mending broken&lt;br /&gt;Pieces of the life i had before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First there was the one who challenged&lt;br /&gt;All my dreams and all my balance&lt;br /&gt;She could never be as good as you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could be my unintended choice&lt;br /&gt;To live my life extended&lt;br /&gt;You should be the one i'll always love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there as soon as i can&lt;br /&gt;But i'm busy mending broken&lt;br /&gt;Pieces of the life i had before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(repeat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XYJEKh9OqEY&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=" border="1" width="340" height="285" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3682138373947379106?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3682138373947379106/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3682138373947379106' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3682138373947379106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3682138373947379106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/04/unintended-muse.html' title='Unintended - Muse'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdkYfgvEFRI/AAAAAAAAAJg/bvXoPxLj6Lc/s72-c/Unintended_by_SashSensei.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5602092222107301376</id><published>2009-03-26T04:27:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-03-26T04:40:07.647Z</updated><title type='text'>The Phantom of the Opera</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4HWNKDmlnnQ&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;color1=" color2="0x6b8ab6&amp;amp;border=" width="340" height="285" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation&lt;br /&gt;Darkness wakes and stirs imagination&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Silently the senses abandon their defenses&lt;br /&gt;Helpless to resist the notes I write&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For I composed the music of the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour&lt;br /&gt;Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hearing is believing&lt;br /&gt;Music is deceiving&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard as lightning, soft as candle light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dare you trust the music of the night..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth&lt;br /&gt;And the truth isn't what you want to see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the dark it is easy to pretend..&lt;br /&gt;That the truth is what it aught to be...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Softly, deftly, music shall caress you&lt;br /&gt;Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind&lt;br /&gt;In this darkness which you know you cannot fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The darkness of the music of the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes start a journey through a strange, new world&lt;br /&gt;Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Close your eyes and let music set you free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Only there can you now belong to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Floating, falling, sweet intoxication&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation&lt;br /&gt;Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in&lt;br /&gt;To the power of the music that I write&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The power of the music of the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You alone can make my song take flight&lt;br /&gt;Help me make the music of the night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Andrew Lloyd Webber / Charles Hart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5602092222107301376?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5602092222107301376/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5602092222107301376' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5602092222107301376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5602092222107301376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/03/phantom-of-opera.html' title='The Phantom of the Opera'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1721178658399727843</id><published>2009-02-21T14:07:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-21T14:10:41.106Z</updated><title type='text'>never, never hide...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAKvmGo4MI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/m06BJYoxD3Y/s1600-h/kiss_ray+ban.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305252173840965826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAKvmGo4MI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/m06BJYoxD3Y/s320/kiss_ray+ban.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; just loved it :P&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1721178658399727843?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1721178658399727843/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1721178658399727843' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1721178658399727843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1721178658399727843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/02/never-never-hide.html' title='never, never hide...'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAKvmGo4MI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/m06BJYoxD3Y/s72-c/kiss_ray+ban.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-8655398997682561841</id><published>2009-02-21T13:30:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-03-26T04:42:19.712Z</updated><title type='text'>A promessa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAFj-PzHoI/AAAAAAAAAJA/ALu393AgZ5g/s1600-h/twi.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305246476605267586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAFj-PzHoI/AAAAAAAAAJA/ALu393AgZ5g/s200/twi.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deste-me o que achaste que queria porque tu o ansiavas. Mas sorriste? Sim. Moveste os gestos a teu compasso. Não senti a volúpia do desejo antes a ligeira repulsa deste roubo. O saque momentâneo! Eu não fui vítima suficiente para lograres a vontade. Julgavas ter escolhido a dança. Pobre orgulho ferido. Parcos métodos de análise. Ah! A verdade nunca a sonhaste como esta. Sorris. Também o faço: consegui!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-8655398997682561841?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8655398997682561841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=8655398997682561841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8655398997682561841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8655398997682561841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/02/promessa.html' title='A promessa'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAFj-PzHoI/AAAAAAAAAJA/ALu393AgZ5g/s72-c/twi.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6155306850237873461</id><published>2009-02-21T13:11:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-02-21T13:28:56.417Z</updated><title type='text'>Almost lovers always do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAAHldQCaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/PT4ZYw6Prac/s1600-h/almost+lover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305240491356326306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAAHldQCaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/PT4ZYw6Prac/s200/almost+lover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your fingertips across my skin&lt;br /&gt;The palm trees swaying in the wind &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Images&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sang me Spanish lullabies&lt;br /&gt;The sweetest sadness in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clever trick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I never want to see you unhappy&lt;br /&gt;I thought you'd want the same for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goodbye, my almost lover&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, my hopeless dream&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to think about you&lt;br /&gt;Can't you just let me be?&lt;br /&gt;So long, my luckless romance&lt;br /&gt;My back is turned on you&lt;br /&gt;Should've known you'd bring me heartache&lt;br /&gt;Almost lovers always do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked along a crowded street&lt;br /&gt;You took my hand and danced with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Images&lt;br /&gt;And when you left, you kissed my lips&lt;br /&gt;You told me you would never, never forget&lt;br /&gt;These images&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy&lt;br /&gt;I thought you'd want the same for me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, my almost lover&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, my hopeless dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm trying not to think about you&lt;br /&gt;Can't you just let me be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;So long, my luckless romance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My back is turned on you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should've known you'd bring me heartache&lt;br /&gt;Almost lovers always do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot go to the ocean&lt;br /&gt;I cannot drive the streets at night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I cannot wake up in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Without you on my mind&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So you're gone and I'm haunted&lt;br /&gt;And I bet you are just fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did I make it that&lt;br /&gt;Easy to walk right in and out&lt;br /&gt;Of my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, my almost lover&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, my hopeless dream&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to think about you&lt;br /&gt;Can't you just let me be?&lt;br /&gt;So long, my luckless romance&lt;br /&gt;My back is turned on you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Should have known you'd bring me heartache&lt;br /&gt;Almost lovers always do&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Almost lover - A Fine Frenzy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6155306850237873461?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6155306850237873461/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6155306850237873461' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6155306850237873461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6155306850237873461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/02/almost-lovers-always-do.html' title='Almost lovers always do...'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SaAAHldQCaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/PT4ZYw6Prac/s72-c/almost+lover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2201975877602951882</id><published>2009-02-01T17:16:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-01T17:29:53.869Z</updated><title type='text'>10 things I hate about you</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FFMS2qRvvUc&amp;amp;hl=" fs="1&amp;amp;color1=" color2="0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=" width="340" height="285" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2201975877602951882?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2201975877602951882/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2201975877602951882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2201975877602951882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2201975877602951882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2009/02/10-things-i-hate-about-you.html' title='10 things I hate about you'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2618920621637768830</id><published>2008-12-13T22:30:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-13T22:35:10.588Z</updated><title type='text'>Libra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SUQ4defIa-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MH8PoHclNDc/s1600-h/imageslibra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279406742236064738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SUQ4defIa-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MH8PoHclNDc/s200/imageslibra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Libra&lt;/strong&gt; is the only inanimate sign of the zodiac, all the others representing either humans or animals. Many modern astrologers regard it as the most desirable of zodiacal types because it represents the zenith of the year, the high point of the seasons, when the harvest of all the hard work of the spring is reaped. There is a mellowness and sense of relaxation in the air as mankind enjoys the last of the summer sun and the fruits of his toil. Librans too are among the most civilized of the twelve zodiacal characters and are often good looking. They have elegance, charm and good taste, are naturally kind, very gentle, and lovers of beauty, harmony (both in music and social living) and the pleasures that these bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have good critical faculty and are able to stand back and look impartially at matters which call for an impartial judgment to be made on them. But they do not tolerate argument from anyone who challenges their opinions, for once they have reached a conclusion, its truth seems to them self-evident; and among their faults is an impatience of criticism and a greed for approval. But their characters are on the whole balanced, diplomatic and even tempered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Librans are&lt;/strong&gt; sensitive to the needs of others and have the gift, sometimes to an almost psychic extent, of understanding the emotional needs of their companions and meeting them with their own innate optimism - they are the kind of people of whom it is said, "They always make you feel better for having been with them." They are very social human beings. They loathe cruelty, viciousness and vulgarity and detest conflict between people, so they do their best to cooperate and compromise with everyone around them, and their ideal for their own circle and for society as a whole is unity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their &lt;strong&gt;cast of mind&lt;/strong&gt; is artistic rather than intellectual, though they are usually too moderate and well balanced to be avant garde in any artistic endeavor. They have good perception and observation and their critical ability, with which they are able to view their own efforts as well as those of others, gives their work integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In their &lt;strong&gt;personal relationships&lt;/strong&gt; they show understanding of the other person's point of view, trying to resolve any differences by compromise, and are often willing to allow claims against themselves to be settled to their own disadvantage rather than spoil a relationship. They like the opposite sex to the extent of promiscuity sometimes, and may indulge in romanticism bordering on sentimentality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their &lt;strong&gt;marriages&lt;/strong&gt;, however, stand a good chance of success because they are frequently the union of "true minds". The Libran's continuing kindness toward his or her partner mollifies any hurt the latter may feel if the two have had a tiff. Nor can the Libran's spouse often complain that he or she is not understood, for the Libran is usually the most empathetic of all the zodiacal types and the most ready to tolerate the beloved's failings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;negative&lt;/strong&gt; Libran character may show frivolity, flirtatiousness and shallowness. It can be changeable and indecisive, impatient of routine, colorlessly conventional and timid, easygoing to the point of inertia, seldom angry when circumstances demand a show of annoyance at least; and yet Librans can shock everyone around them with sudden storms of rage. Their love of pleasure may lead them into extravagance; Libran men can degenerate into reckless gamblers, and Libran women extravagant, jealous and careless about money sometimes squander their wealth and talents in their overenthusiasm for causes which they espouse. Both sexes can become great gossipers. A characteristic of the type is an insatiable curiosity that tempts them to enquire into every social scandal in their circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In their &lt;strong&gt;work&lt;/strong&gt; the description "lazy Libra" which is sometimes given is actually more alliterative than true. Librans can be surprisingly energetic, though it is true that they dislike coarse, dirty work. Although some are modestly content, others are extremely ambitious. With their dislike of extremes they make good diplomats but perhaps poor party politicians, for they are moderate in their opinions and able to see other points of view. They can succeed as administrators, lawyers (they have a strong sense of justice, which cynics might say could handicap them in a legal career), antique dealers, civil servants and bankers, for they are trustworthy in handling other people's money. Some Librans are gifted in fashion designing or in devising new cosmetics; others may find success as artists, composers, critics, writers, interior decorators, welfare workers or valuers, and they have an ability in the management of all sorts of public entertainment. Some work philanthropically for humanity with great self-disciple and significant results. Libran financiers sometimes make good speculators, for they have the optimism and ability to recover from financial crashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Possible Health Concerns...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libra governs the lumbar region, lower back and kidneys. Its subjects must beware of weaknesses in the back, and lumbago, and they are susceptible to troubles in the kidneys and bladder, especially gravel and stone. They need to avoid overindulgence in food and especially drink, for the latter can particularly harm the kidneys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LIKES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;* The finer things in life&lt;br /&gt;* Sharing&lt;br /&gt;* conviviality&lt;br /&gt;* Gentleness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DISLIKES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Violence&lt;br /&gt;* Injustice&lt;br /&gt;* Brutishness&lt;br /&gt;* Being a slave to fashion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PROBLEMS THAT MAY ARISE FOR YOU, AND THEIR SOLUTIONS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with all sun signs, we all have unique traits to our personalities. When these traits are suppressed, or unrealized, problems will arise. However, with astrology we can examine the problem and assess the proper solution based on the sun sign characteristics. As a Libran you may see things below that really strike home. Try the solution, you most likely will be amazed at the results. If you find yourself on the receiving end of the negatives below, it is because you are failing to express the positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Problem&lt;/strong&gt;: Finding yourself frequently trapped in situations that have no depth and little value to you or the other person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Solution:&lt;/strong&gt; Try not to pretend feelings you do not have and find a way to back gracefully out of a superficial relationship; look before you leap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Problem:&lt;/strong&gt; You find that you do not really like yourself and/or beating yourself up over not being able to please another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Solution:&lt;/strong&gt; If you learn how to please yourself without depriving others, then you will be able to please someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Problem:&lt;/strong&gt; The situations that make you ill at ease is only mildly irritating to another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Solution:&lt;/strong&gt; Try to cultivate inner security through spiritual strength and awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Problem:&lt;/strong&gt; Feeling like you are nothing: your actions being frustrating to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Solution:&lt;/strong&gt; Developing your feelings of self worth by expressing the positive in your nature and not letting your elitist, class consciousness show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your ruling planet is &lt;strong&gt;VENUS&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mean distance from the Sun (AU) 0.723&lt;br /&gt;Sidereal period of orbit (years) 0.62&lt;br /&gt;Equatorial radius (km) 6,052&lt;br /&gt;Polar radius (km) 6,052&lt;br /&gt;Body rotation period (hours) 5823&lt;br /&gt;(Retrograde) Tilt of equator to orbit (degrees) 2.12&lt;br /&gt;Number of observed satellites 0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some &lt;strong&gt;more interesting facts&lt;/strong&gt; about your sign:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The symbol associated with your sign is the scales of balance&lt;br /&gt;representing the balance that you continually seek in your self and your life. The scales were also&lt;br /&gt;adopted by our judicial system to symbolize a balance of fairness in the law which is emphasized by 'blind justice' holding them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;strong&gt;color&lt;/strong&gt; of choice for Libra is &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your starstone is the precious Sapphire. The Sapphire is one of the most beautiful and sought after gems in the quartz family. It is considered good luck in many ways and one of the major healing stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2618920621637768830?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2618920621637768830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2618920621637768830' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2618920621637768830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2618920621637768830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/12/libra.html' title='Libra'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SUQ4defIa-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MH8PoHclNDc/s72-c/imageslibra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6095343891020866087</id><published>2008-12-13T22:02:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-13T22:30:22.764Z</updated><title type='text'>Libra Horoscopes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sunday, Dec 7th, 2008&lt;/strong&gt; -- Your desires for a playful and loving romance are intensified now. But even if someone is on your radar screen, he or she could be too busy to slow down for love -- even if it's the real thing. Don't put all your eggs in an illusory basket of love, for today's transits are also setting the stage for artistic creation. Planning isn't necessary; spontaneous self-expression works best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday, Dec 8th, 2008&lt;/strong&gt; -- Today you may not have time to rest between exciting activities as one thing after another pulls you further into the future. You might feel as if it's hopeless because everyone else seems to know what's going on, except you. You can learn a lot by asking questions, and if you do, you will also likely discover that others don't know as much as you thought they did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday, Dec 9th, 2008&lt;/strong&gt; -- Now that the Moon is moving through Taurus -- gentle Venus's other home sign -- you are in need of making a deep and lasting personal connection. But this kind of magic doesn't just happen overnight; you must continue to do your psychological and spiritual work. Don't get distracted by superficial interactions; hold out for real love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday, Dec 12th, 2008&lt;/strong&gt; -- You're infamous for being indecisive, but that's just because you can usually temper extreme ideas and bring them toward the middle. Today you should be ready to jump one way or the other, because you may not have a lot of time to make up your mind. Remember that it's more important to be swift in judgment now than to be right. Decide and then move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6095343891020866087?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6095343891020866087/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6095343891020866087' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6095343891020866087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6095343891020866087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/12/libra-horoscopes.html' title='Libra Horoscopes'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1580614871309737231</id><published>2008-12-05T01:04:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-07T01:00:43.846Z</updated><title type='text'>My collection</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/STsgGtkFlFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nIq2L95qtvs/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276846688076928082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 110px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/STsgGtkFlFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nIq2L95qtvs/s200/5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tarefa: Escolher um artista e responder a perguntas com títulos das suas músicas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artista: Katie Melua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) És homem ou mulher?&lt;br /&gt;"Mary Pickford"...yes I'm Mary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Descreve-te.&lt;br /&gt;"All in my head" Costumo dizer k sou muito psicológica mas acima de tudo sonhadora :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) O que as pessoas acham de ti?&lt;br /&gt;"Just when I need you the most"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Como descreves o teu último relacionamento?&lt;br /&gt;"Ghost town"...será preciso dizer mais?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Descreve o estado actual da tua relação?&lt;br /&gt;"Piece by piece".... :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Onde querias estar agora?&lt;br /&gt;"Blowin' in the Wind"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) O que pensas a respeito do amor?&lt;br /&gt;"The closet thing to crazy"...e não é verdade?! How can misery feels so sweet?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Como é a tua vida neste momento?&lt;br /&gt;"Crawling up a hill"...it's how it feels like :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) O que pedirias se pudesses ter só um desejo?&lt;br /&gt;"Just like heaven"...whatelse?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Escreve uma frase sábia.&lt;br /&gt;«Every once and in a while we all wear our blue shoes»&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1580614871309737231?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1580614871309737231/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1580614871309737231' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1580614871309737231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1580614871309737231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/12/em-construo.html' title='My collection'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/STsgGtkFlFI/AAAAAAAAAGI/nIq2L95qtvs/s72-c/5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3467211647213080661</id><published>2008-11-01T23:09:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-11-01T23:15:53.818Z</updated><title type='text'>1OO per cent (or almost) Libra :P</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bg style="color:#eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: blackfont-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;" &gt;&lt;strong&gt;You Should Be A Libra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsignshouldyoubequiz/libra.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's good about you: A total charmer, you easily find friends and allies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's bad about you: You have a secret side that's easily confused and depressed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In love: you enjoy flirting, dating, and the whole process of falling for someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In friendship, you're: very social ... you rather be with your friends than be alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your ideal job: fashion designer, makeup artist, or song writer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your sense of fashion: very feminine / masculine (depending on your gender)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like to pig out on: sweet stuff like ice cream and french toast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsignshouldyoubequiz/"&gt;What Sign Should You Be?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3467211647213080661?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3467211647213080661/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3467211647213080661' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3467211647213080661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3467211647213080661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/11/1oo-per-cent-or-almost-libra-p.html' title='1OO per cent (or almost) Libra :P'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-983861949657719014</id><published>2008-10-17T14:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T22:08:34.855+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A dança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SPiVLNdr_SI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IlcSqNMxxHw/s1600-h/danÃ§a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258116584780332322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SPiVLNdr_SI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IlcSqNMxxHw/s200/dan%C3%A7a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dança comigo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Junta os teus passos aos meus,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Abraça a melodia no meu corpo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;e vem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não há harmonia perfeita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas o teu olhar sempre leu o meu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E dançámos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-983861949657719014?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/983861949657719014/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=983861949657719014' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/983861949657719014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/983861949657719014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/10/dana.html' title='A dança'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SPiVLNdr_SI/AAAAAAAAAF4/IlcSqNMxxHw/s72-c/dan%C3%A7a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-7691692198833987120</id><published>2008-09-26T17:56:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T15:00:52.062+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O desejo de rever-te</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SN0UhtoJkhI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DUNnNrz2Amo/s1600-h/forget_me_not2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250375310000099858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SN0UhtoJkhI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DUNnNrz2Amo/s200/forget_me_not2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quanto mais falam menos escuto.&lt;br /&gt;Estou para além da realidade a procurar-te.&lt;br /&gt;Dou por mim a perpetuar o que disse não querer: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a pensar, mas a pensar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;«E quanto mais te perco mais te encontro &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;morrendo e renascendo e sempre pronto &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;para em ti me encontrar e perder»&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Manuel Alegre, Obra Poética.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-7691692198833987120?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7691692198833987120/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=7691692198833987120' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7691692198833987120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7691692198833987120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/o-desejo-de-rever-te_26.html' title='O desejo de rever-te'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SN0UhtoJkhI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DUNnNrz2Amo/s72-c/forget_me_not2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-353776530441597187</id><published>2008-09-18T12:30:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T12:44:25.065+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Innocent yet naughty</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SNI8wLobvFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/pgXUDTbLGxE/s1600-h/melancolia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247323314293816402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="119" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SNI8wLobvFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/pgXUDTbLGxE/s200/melancolia.jpg" width="146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm a bitch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I hate the world today&lt;br /&gt;You're so good to me I know but I can't change&lt;br /&gt;I tried to tell you but you look at me like maybe&lt;br /&gt;I'm an angel underneath; innocent and sweet&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I cried; Must've been relief to see the softer side&lt;br /&gt;I can understand how you'd be so confused&lt;br /&gt;I don't envy you; I'm a little bit of everything&lt;br /&gt;all rolled into one&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bitch I'm a lover&lt;br /&gt;I'm a child I'm a mother&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sinner I'm a saint&lt;br /&gt;I do not feel ashamed&lt;br /&gt;I'm your hell I'm your dream&lt;br /&gt;I'm nothing in between&lt;br /&gt;you know you wouldn't want it any other way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So take me as I am&lt;br /&gt;This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man&lt;br /&gt;Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous&lt;br /&gt;and I'm going to extremes; Tomorrow I will change&lt;br /&gt;And today won't mean a thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bitch I'm a lover&lt;br /&gt;I'm a child I'm a mother&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sinner I'm a saint&lt;br /&gt;I do not feel ashamed&lt;br /&gt;I'm your hell I'm your dream&lt;br /&gt;I'm nothing in between&lt;br /&gt;you know you wouldn't want it any other way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when you think, you got me figured out&lt;br /&gt;The season's already changin'&lt;br /&gt;I think it's cool; you do what you do&lt;br /&gt;And don't try to save me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bitch I'm a lover&lt;br /&gt;I'm a child I'm a mother&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sinner I'm a saint&lt;br /&gt;I do not feel ashamed&lt;br /&gt;I'm your hell I'm your dream&lt;br /&gt;I'm nothing in between&lt;br /&gt;you know you wouldn't want it any other way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bitch, I'm a tease&lt;br /&gt;I'm a goddess on my knees&lt;br /&gt;When your hurt; when you suffer&lt;br /&gt;I'm your angel undercover&lt;br /&gt;I've been numb; I'm revived&lt;br /&gt;Can't say I'm not alive&lt;br /&gt;You know I wouldn't want it any other way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-353776530441597187?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/353776530441597187/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=353776530441597187' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/353776530441597187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/353776530441597187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/innocent-yet-naughty.html' title='Innocent yet naughty'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SNI8wLobvFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/pgXUDTbLGxE/s72-c/melancolia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6524830249252604166</id><published>2008-09-12T20:57:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T15:02:08.722+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SMrMX7UpI3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/RKGhJ8ECv2Y/s1600-h/gloxinia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245229427459695474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SMrMX7UpI3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/RKGhJ8ECv2Y/s200/gloxinia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;There's no such thing as love at first sight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"&gt;The only truth I know is that lovers at first sight do exist.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6524830249252604166?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6524830249252604166/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6524830249252604166' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6524830249252604166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6524830249252604166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/love.html' title='Love?'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SMrMX7UpI3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/RKGhJ8ECv2Y/s72-c/gloxinia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4473982935285896827</id><published>2008-09-04T13:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T13:22:56.142+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vale a pena pensar nisto…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SL_S7kR-5II/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3VDpSak2Wvg/s1600-h/Photo-9..jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242140412075762818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 85px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 64px" height="112" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SL_S7kR-5II/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3VDpSak2Wvg/s200/Photo-9..jpg" width="137" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Há momentos que ficam recalcados por novas lembranças. Quando aprendemos a ter coragem para procurar no que ficou para trás somos surpreendidos. Deixa-te levar pelo que não conheces e aprende a amar o que descobres. É a verdade que surge. Pode doer. Mas pode porque existe. Liberta-te de focos que dizem centrar-se no que vale a pena. Explora o que é teu. Essa magnífica e assustadora introspecção pode tornar-te melhor aprendiz de ti próprio. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;MLS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4473982935285896827?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4473982935285896827/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4473982935285896827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4473982935285896827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4473982935285896827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/09/vale-pena-pensar-nisto.html' title='Vale a pena pensar nisto…'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SL_S7kR-5II/AAAAAAAAAFQ/3VDpSak2Wvg/s72-c/Photo-9..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1896514049411183513</id><published>2008-08-20T22:33:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T22:46:17.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It might</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SKyQMpST-GI/AAAAAAAAAFI/cYyBMJPrNkc/s1600-h/guitar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236719013640534114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SKyQMpST-GI/AAAAAAAAAFI/cYyBMJPrNkc/s200/guitar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wish no one was here&lt;br /&gt;I’d like the silence of that guitar player&lt;br /&gt;Just my weird voice singing out loud&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes persuasion isn’t enough&lt;br /&gt;As hard as you might try&lt;br /&gt;There are mysteries that can resist&lt;br /&gt;I can get no inspiration from&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes dawned with tears.&lt;br /&gt;I seek love inside your mind&lt;br /&gt;It rules your funny way to say:&lt;br /&gt;I should have come over.&lt;br /&gt;But the past has already gone…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might be too late&lt;br /&gt;So…&lt;br /&gt;Here’s another explanation&lt;br /&gt;A different sorry that will put the records straight&lt;br /&gt;As you may see….&lt;br /&gt;I’m not there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1896514049411183513?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1896514049411183513/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1896514049411183513' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1896514049411183513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1896514049411183513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/08/nnnn.html' title='It might'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SKyQMpST-GI/AAAAAAAAAFI/cYyBMJPrNkc/s72-c/guitar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6712942138016340267</id><published>2008-07-13T21:18:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:21:56.254+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Endlessly - Muse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's part of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'll never know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The only thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll never show&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll love you endlessly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll give you everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I won't give you up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't let you down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't leave you falling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If the moment ever comes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's plain to see,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's trying to speak&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cherished dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Forever asleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll love you endlessly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll give you everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I won't give you up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't let you down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't leave you falling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If the moment ever comes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll love you endlessly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hopelessly, I'll give you everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But I won't give you up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't let you down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I won't leave you falling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But the moment never comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6712942138016340267?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6712942138016340267/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6712942138016340267' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6712942138016340267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6712942138016340267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/endlessly-muse.html' title='Endlessly - Muse'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1902036080330061995</id><published>2008-07-04T19:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T19:23:25.796+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensamento do dia: moral e homens</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hoje um senhor, que à partida ignoraria dada a sua lábia pitoresca, disse algo que me fez pensar. Por entre as conversas desconexas de música, igreja, carne e homens, o senhor-peçonhento-segunda-a-minha-avó afirmou que é a moral que torna os homens nuns criminosos. Se todos fossemos livres e puros como acontece quando nascemos (Rosseu), a vida seria mais óbvia. O suprimir no dentro do turbilhão de desejos e necessidades inconfessas transforma o homem numa bomba relógio. Se não fossemos condicionados pela moral o homem não atingiria o ponto extremo, o da erupção. Viveria em simples manifestações do antes inconfesso. Porque o pior dos criminosos é o que actua calado deixando o mundo sorrir-lhe. Este ponto levanta a questão da sociedade hipócrita mas isto já todos sabemos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-“E o que pensa a Luísa dos homens? Acha que são todos maus?”&lt;br /&gt;-“Não. Prefiro acreditar que sou ingénua.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-“E o que é que a Luísa pensa disto?”&lt;br /&gt;-“Penso que a minha avó canta muito bem!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1902036080330061995?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1902036080330061995/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1902036080330061995' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1902036080330061995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1902036080330061995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/07/pensamento-do-dia-moral-e-homens_04.html' title='Pensamento do dia: moral e homens'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5877304421421764448</id><published>2008-06-02T00:20:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:37.626Z</updated><title type='text'>A descoberta de hoje</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SEMy3hVYYSI/AAAAAAAAAFA/gQxHHVLjj-w/s1600-h/rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207061523592667426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SEMy3hVYYSI/AAAAAAAAAFA/gQxHHVLjj-w/s200/rose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frank Sinatra - A Little In Love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've always thought we were only fooling,&lt;br /&gt;But look at us now at least a little in love.&lt;br /&gt;We've always said that our heads were ruling,&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know how but here we are.&lt;br /&gt;This I'll admit is a fine how-do-you-do,&lt;br /&gt;But this might be I-discover-I'm-for-you.&lt;br /&gt;And just as sure as it's more than fooling.&lt;br /&gt;It's quite a lot more than just a little in love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao navegar por um site de músicas descobri este fantástico texto. Não resisti. Tive que o publicar;) &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5877304421421764448?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5877304421421764448/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5877304421421764448' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5877304421421764448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5877304421421764448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/06/descoberta-de-hoje.html' title='A descoberta de hoje'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SEMy3hVYYSI/AAAAAAAAAFA/gQxHHVLjj-w/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-8643360486427978674</id><published>2008-05-28T10:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T10:58:24.503+01:00</updated><title type='text'>nada k hacer</title><content type='html'>1.Nome:Maria Luísa Silva&lt;br /&gt;2. Porque te deram esse nome? Homenagem à minha tia&lt;br /&gt;3. Pedes desejos às estrelas? Confesso que já o fiz.&lt;br /&gt;4. Quando foi a última vez que choraste? Não me lembro. Mas choro sempre um pouco por tudo e nada, alegria e tristeza…&lt;br /&gt;5. Gostas da tua letra? Sim.&lt;br /&gt;6. Gostas de pão com quê? Com manteiga.&lt;br /&gt;7. quantos filhos tens? Nenhum.&lt;br /&gt;8. Nomes para os teus filhos? Não sei, quando chegar a altura (se chegar) penso nisso mas talvez Tiago ou Lucas ou Mateus, se for rapaz.&lt;br /&gt;9. Se fosses outra pessoa, achas que ias ser teu amigo? Sim, porque não?!&lt;br /&gt;10. Tens um diario de vida? Não. Já tive. Agora limito-me a escrever prosa ou poesia quando sinto que preciso.&lt;br /&gt;11 .És Sarcástica? Às vezes.&lt;br /&gt;12. Saltarias de páraquedas? Não sei…&lt;br /&gt;13. Quais são os teus cereais preferidos? Clusters&lt;br /&gt;14. Desapertas os sapatos antes de os tirares?? Não…&lt;br /&gt;15. Acreditas que és forte? Se a força se medir na vontade de continuar após alguns tombos, sim….mas não o suficiente para esquecer o tombo&lt;br /&gt;16. Doce Favorito: não sei…amendroados,talvez….algo que não como sempre e, por isso, quando o faço têm um sabor fantástico.&lt;br /&gt;17. Quanto calças? 37, normalmente.&lt;br /&gt;18. Vermelho ou rosa? Rosa.&lt;br /&gt;19. De quem é que gostas muito? Dos meus amigos e família.&lt;br /&gt;20. Gostavas que as pessoas a quem enviaste esta mensagem te respondessem? Eu não enviei a ninguém…mas se ninguém me quiser responder eu não me importo&lt;br /&gt;21. De que cor sao as calças e os sapatos que tens vestidos? Calças de ganga azuis, meias pretas e black shoes..&lt;br /&gt;23. Qual é a parte do teu corpo que mais gostas? O cabelo, nos melhores dias. Há quem considere bonito…&lt;br /&gt;24. A última coisa que comeste? O pequeno-almoço…&lt;br /&gt;25. O que estás a ouvir neste momento? O burburinho na sala dos computadores, na UM.&lt;br /&gt;26. Que canção gostavas que te dedicassem? Uma música bonita  com uma letra significativa. Arrisco na “Há amores assim” (Donna Maria)…Enfim, depende de quem a dedique…as minhas amigas já me dedicaram a “I turn to you”…e ganhou o significado da amizade…&lt;br /&gt;27. As tuas cores preferidas? Azul, rosa, branco e tons pastéis.&lt;br /&gt;28. A ultima pessoa com quem falaste ao telefone? Eu não falo muito ao telefone…sou adepta das mensagens. Acho que foi a minha irmã ou a Marrrga.&lt;br /&gt;29. Qual é a primeira coisa em que reparas no sexo oposto? Numa primeira impressão, o geral (porque não estou propriamente a examinar), depois os olhos …&lt;br /&gt;30. O que pensas da pessoa que te enviou isto? Não penso nada porque ninguém me enviou….penso antes sobre a pessoa que está a responder a estas questões…é que não tem mesmo mais nada que fazer!&lt;br /&gt;31. Bebida favorita? Responderia água mas como devem pensar que sou uma santa, digo Martini rossato (dividido com a Hélia…porque dar 3 euros por um copinho disto é muito)&lt;br /&gt;32. Desporto que mais gostas de ver na tv? Futebol&lt;br /&gt;33. Cor de cabelo? Dark brown&lt;br /&gt;34. Cor dos olhos? Dark brown.&lt;br /&gt;35. Lentes de contacto? Nops.&lt;br /&gt;36. Comida favorita? Sei lá…o arroz de vagens da minha avó J.&lt;br /&gt;37. Filme de terror ou final feliz? Final feliz, definitivamente. Se alguém me convidar para ir ver filmes de terror vai ouvir um não ou então passar a maior vergonha da vida quando, na sala de cinema, eu desatar aos berrinhos ou agarrar o vizinho da cadeira ao lado (que provavelmente foi a pessoa que me convidou)…&lt;br /&gt;38. Último filme que viste no cinema e com quem? Vestida para Casar. Ana, Taruz, Nuno e Pat, a aniversariante.&lt;br /&gt;39. Dia do ano preferido? Talvez a véspera de S.João….&lt;br /&gt;40. Inverno ou verão? Primavera, pode ser?!&lt;br /&gt;41. Beijos ou abraços? Abraços, mas depende de quem os dá.&lt;br /&gt;42. Quem achas que te vai responder? Já disse que não vou mandar as ninguém….éta que são chatos...&lt;br /&gt;43. E quem acreditas que o não fará? Oh….filho…outra vez?!&lt;br /&gt;44. Que livro estás a ler? São de Construção Europeia, são muitos e eu não sei os títulos!&lt;br /&gt;45. Que vês à noite à noite na televisão? Séries e telenovelas.&lt;br /&gt;46. Rolling Stones ou Beatles? Beatles.&lt;br /&gt;47. Qual o sitio mais longe de casa em que já estiveste? A sonhar acordada em muito lado longínquo, fisicamente, acho que em Fátima.&lt;br /&gt;48. És feliz? Eu sou a queen of drama! Mas gosto de relembrar a mim própria que tudo podia ser muito pior e comparando com muitas pessoas eu tenho tudo.&lt;br /&gt;49. Quando é o teu aniversário? 26 de Setembro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-8643360486427978674?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/8643360486427978674/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=8643360486427978674' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8643360486427978674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/8643360486427978674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/05/nada-k-hacer.html' title='nada k hacer'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4210340965609626366</id><published>2008-05-20T10:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T10:55:20.868+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Intervalo - Perfume &amp; Rui Veloso</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nzv9R5kFnLk&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nzv9R5kFnLk&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Uma das minhas músicas favoritas&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="fullpost"&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4210340965609626366?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4210340965609626366/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4210340965609626366' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4210340965609626366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4210340965609626366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/05/intervalo-perfume-rui-veloso.html' title='Intervalo - Perfume &amp; Rui Veloso'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2876574524671229992</id><published>2008-05-11T19:46:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:37.764Z</updated><title type='text'>Finalista ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCdIVTdUgTI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ggxSBfv-cUE/s1600-h/DSC03184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199203825660231986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCdIVTdUgTI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ggxSBfv-cUE/s200/DSC03184.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dia de ontem foi repleto de emoção. Não não chorei embora confesse que quase o fiz. Ainda não tive a percepção que vou deixar a Academia Minhota. Tudo correu muito bem à parte da minha avó não ter ido e a minha afilhada de praxe também não (estás desculpada Paulinha:). Tive muito bem acompanhada pela minha mana, Pat - madrinha finalista - e Taruz. Ah! Claro, estive lado a lada com todo o meu curso. O único senão foi a bastonada que levei no grito de curso. Ainda me dói o lábio. Acho que foi vingança. Momentos antes chutei, sem querer, um bastão vermelho, que suponhamos é de direito, e depois os de Direito queriam ultrapassar o nosso curso mas n conseguiram. É uma estoria rebuscada mas sabe-se lá...O momento alto foi protagonizado por um miúdo muito querido, sobrinho de uma finalista e amiga. Os de Direito a certa altura levantaram-se das cadeiras e ultrapassaram-nos. O &lt;em&gt;mui&lt;/em&gt; ilustre rapaz virou-se para a tia e perguntou "Eles são de Direito né?! Então porque é que estão na esquerda?!". Pode parecer parvo mas na altura deu para rir muito.&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada a todos que estiveram comigo em todas as etapas que me fizeram chegar aqui.&lt;br /&gt;I adore you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2876574524671229992?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2876574524671229992/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2876574524671229992' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2876574524671229992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2876574524671229992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/05/finalista.html' title='Finalista ;)'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCdIVTdUgTI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ggxSBfv-cUE/s72-c/DSC03184.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6834307760249700430</id><published>2008-05-10T22:48:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:38.100Z</updated><title type='text'>Perfil, o meu?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCYgHILtuGI/AAAAAAAAAEg/XrntCZUYSfI/s1600-h/Curled_up_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198878126673606754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCYgHILtuGI/AAAAAAAAAEg/XrntCZUYSfI/s200/Curled_up_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Na última aula de jornalismo tivemos que escrever um perfil jornalístico: o nosso. De tanto e tão pouco que tinha para dizer nada escrevi. Não me enquadro bem em ambientes stressantes. Hoje, depois de chegar cansadíssima da cerimónia dos finalistas, li uma mensagem que me obrigou, por curiosidade, a vasculhar no meu blog certas informações. Nessa investigação descobri que quando quero consigo ser mais analítica. Podia era tê-lo feito no trabalho....era não era..."Depois de menina casada não faltam pretendentes."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Deverti-me imenso a fazer &lt;a href="http://ciuzzi9.blog.pt/2006/12/"&gt;testes online &lt;/a&gt;sobre tudo e mais alguma coisa (" que sabor de gelado és") , respondi a &lt;a href="http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/desafio.html"&gt;desafios introspectivos&lt;/a&gt; e no final não dei uso ao desperdício de tempo. Com tanta fonte de informação fui confiar na minha capacidade de sintetizar 20 anos da minha vida...nada consegue bater este resumo mais ou menos acertado de personalidade: "You are dreamy, peaceful, and young at heart. Optimistic and caring, you tend to see the best in people. You tend to be always smiling - and making others smile. You are shy and intelligent... and a very hard worker. You're also funny, but many people don't see your funny side. Your subtle dry humor leaves your close friends in stitches." A última frase não sei...teria que fazer outro teste ;) hi hi hi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6834307760249700430?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6834307760249700430/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6834307760249700430' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6834307760249700430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6834307760249700430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/05/perfil-o-meu.html' title='Perfil, o meu?!'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SCYgHILtuGI/AAAAAAAAAEg/XrntCZUYSfI/s72-c/Curled_up_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6975192933666937242</id><published>2008-02-01T13:50:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:38.239Z</updated><title type='text'>Caso o acaso seja um difícil caso...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R6MmIBvWmSI/AAAAAAAAACE/MbojTwt8D-U/s1600-h/Lonely_Flowers_by_Rhinoseri.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162011517244578082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R6MmIBvWmSI/AAAAAAAAACE/MbojTwt8D-U/s200/Lonely_Flowers_by_Rhinoseri.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Epitáfio - Titãs&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Devia ter amado mais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ter chorado mais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ter visto o sol nascer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Devia ter arriscado mais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Até errado mais&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ter feito o que eu queria fazer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Queria ter aceitado as pessoas como elas são&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cada um sabe a alegria e a dor que traz no coração&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O acaso vai me proteger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enquanto eu andar distraído&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O acaso vai me proteger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enquanto eu andar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Devia ter complicado menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trabalhado menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ter visto o sol se pôr&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Devia ter me importado menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Com problemas pequenos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ter morrido de amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Queria ter aceitado a vida como ela é&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A cada um cabe alegrias e a tristeza que vier&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O acaso vai me proteger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enquanto eu andar distraído&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O acaso vai me proteger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enquanto eu andar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Devia ter complicado menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Trabalhado menos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ter visto o sol se pôr&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gostava de ter a certeza que o Acaso é uma força permanente mas por vezes perco a coragem para acreditar.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6975192933666937242?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6975192933666937242/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6975192933666937242' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6975192933666937242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6975192933666937242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/02/caso-o-acaso-seja-um-difcil-caso.html' title='Caso o acaso seja um difícil caso...'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R6MmIBvWmSI/AAAAAAAAACE/MbojTwt8D-U/s72-c/Lonely_Flowers_by_Rhinoseri.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-7075012411874468340</id><published>2008-01-31T12:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-31T12:56:36.876Z</updated><title type='text'>Face que me sufoca</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://silzinha_poeta.weblogger.terra.com.br/img/face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://silzinha_poeta.weblogger.terra.com.br/img/face.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Faz frio lá fora e o tempo passa. Deixo-me estar aqui. Agora já não há nada só lembranças e aquele remoer triste, insistente. Grande coisa. Sou eu. E eu sou desenhada dessa forma: melancólica, pensativa e apaixonada. Apaixonada pelo que me faz sorrir, pensar, tremer de ansiedade e amar Não te figuro a ti porque não te vejo logo, não posso amar-te. Cerro os olhos num ritual quotidiano que dispensa tal acto.&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me prazer saber que de uma forma ridícula, esta, faço parte de um mundo que é teu. Talvez não seja a inocência o que perdi mas conquistei uma mente em fase adulta. Uma mente que complica e vê segundos significados em tudo, mas que é criança na forma como insiste numa tema que não tem lógica para existir. Não me refiro a fadas. Contos, aos contos de fadas é que me dedico. O encanto é a alegria do brilho momentâneo porque acordo e sou de carne e osso.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero ter receio de avançar, medo de falhar, certeza de corar e raiva de mim quando algo não corre como deveria. Mais que tudo preciso ver-te, ter-te tão próximo a ponto que uma pergunta minha receba a tua resposta. Porque agora projecto um conto: sorrio para de seguida chorar. Eu duvido de ti de mim. Tudo o que suponho ser um jardim poderá não ser mais que um banco de pedra onde hoje me sento.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo se resume a pensar, supor e a noite chega e vai. Eu acordo para o mundo mas ele não me dá o nervoso de querer ter-te junto a mim. Traz-me somente o desejo forte de não te magoar. Não aceito falsas esperanças. Por que tu nunca és o que quero e amo, és só o que eu respeito e gosto e nunca me terias como o que amas e respeitas.&lt;br /&gt;Porque chove lá fora e cá dentro faz frio. Gela e não sei do teu calor. Não sei de ti. Vivo só com uma parte de mim: a face que me sufoca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-7075012411874468340?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7075012411874468340/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=7075012411874468340' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7075012411874468340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7075012411874468340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2008/01/face-que-me-sufoca.html' title='Face que me sufoca'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1377298331454826505</id><published>2007-12-01T15:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:38.434Z</updated><title type='text'>No one - Alicia Keys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R1GGJOa0YNI/AAAAAAAAAB8/XW6c1bJAJbQ/s1600-R/alicia_keys_promo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139036142853972178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="147" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R1GGJOa0YNI/AAAAAAAAAB8/jUtt-_Slbs4/s200/alicia_keys_promo.jpg" width="178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I Just Want you Close&lt;br /&gt;Where You Can Stay Forever&lt;br /&gt;You Can Be Sure&lt;br /&gt;That It Will Only Get Better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You And Me Together Through The Days And Nights&lt;br /&gt;I Dont Worry Cause&lt;br /&gt;Everything's Gonna Be Alright&lt;br /&gt;People Keep Talking&lt;br /&gt;They Can Say What They Like&lt;br /&gt;But All I Know Is That Everything's Gonna Be Alright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I'm Feelin'&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I Feel For You&lt;br /&gt;You You&lt;br /&gt;Get In The Way Of What I Feel For You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When The Rain Is Pourin Down&lt;br /&gt;And My Heart Is Hurting&lt;br /&gt;You Will Always Be Around&lt;br /&gt;This I Know For Certain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You And Me Together Through The Days And Nights&lt;br /&gt;I Don't Worry Cause&lt;br /&gt;Everything's Gonna Be Alright&lt;br /&gt;People Keep TalkingThey Can Say What They Like But All I Know Is Everything Is Gonna Be Alright&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I'm Feelin'&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I Feel For You&lt;br /&gt;You You&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I Feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Know&lt;br /&gt;Some People Search The World&lt;br /&gt;To Find&lt;br /&gt;Something Like What We Have&lt;br /&gt;I Know&lt;br /&gt;People Will Try, Try To Divide Something So Real&lt;br /&gt;So Till The End Of Time&lt;br /&gt;I'm Telling You There Ain't No One&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I'm Feelin'&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;No One&lt;br /&gt;Can Get In The Way Of What I Feel For You&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-1377298331454826505?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1377298331454826505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1377298331454826505' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1377298331454826505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1377298331454826505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-one-alicia-keys.html' title='No one - Alicia Keys'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/R1GGJOa0YNI/AAAAAAAAAB8/jUtt-_Slbs4/s72-c/alicia_keys_promo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-873774022109116405</id><published>2007-11-07T13:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-07T13:44:34.966Z</updated><title type='text'>Testes</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=425 align=center border=0cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align=center&gt;&lt;a href="http://radiocomercial.clix.pt/animar/testes/cena_romantica/index.asp" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://radiocomercial.clix.pt/animar/testes/cena_romantica/images/resposta_d.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/idHrz_xqwsk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/idHrz_xqwsk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-873774022109116405?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/873774022109116405/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=873774022109116405' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/873774022109116405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/873774022109116405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/11/testes.html' title='Testes'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-300157314369234379</id><published>2007-09-29T14:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:38.873Z</updated><title type='text'>Grazie amici</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É dificil fazer o relato de um momento que ainda estou a processar. Por agora chega dizer "Obrigada". Se vocês não existissem eu não seria eu. Obrigada amigos! É dificil surpreender-me mas vocês conseguiram-no! Adoro-vos. Foi o melhor aniversário de sempre;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115616567473671570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Rv5SKhdfDZI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Dtq_CDtLqNA/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Pode ser que um dia deixemos de nos falar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mas, enquanto houver amizade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;faremos as pazes de novo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pode ser que um dia o tempo passe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas,se a amizade permanecer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;um do outro nos havemos de lembrar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pode ser que um dia nos afastemos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mas, se formos amigos de verdade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a amizade nos reaproximara.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pode ser que um dia não mais existamos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas se ainda sobrar amizade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;nasceremos de novo, um para o outro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Pode ser que um dia tudo acabe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas, com a amizade construiremos tudo novamente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;cada vez de forma diferente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sendo único e inesquecível cada momento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;que juntos viveremos e nos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;lembraremos para sempre."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-300157314369234379?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/300157314369234379/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=300157314369234379' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/300157314369234379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/300157314369234379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/grazie-amici.html' title='Grazie amici'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Rv5SKhdfDZI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Dtq_CDtLqNA/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5273727420755795732</id><published>2007-09-05T15:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T16:09:47.465+01:00</updated><title type='text'>KISS ME -Sixpence None The Richer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ygYfrpJ8pkY" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Kiss me out of the bearded barley&lt;br /&gt;Nightly, beside the green, green grass&lt;br /&gt;Swing, swing, swing the spinning step&lt;br /&gt;You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;br /&gt;Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight&lt;br /&gt;Lead me out on the moonlit floor&lt;br /&gt;Lift your open hand&lt;br /&gt;Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance&lt;br /&gt;Silver moon's sparkling&lt;br /&gt;So kiss me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiss me down by the broken tree house&lt;br /&gt;Swing me upon its hanging tire&lt;br /&gt;Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat&lt;br /&gt;We'll take the trail marked on your father's map&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus (repeat)] &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"So kiss me!"....isto faz-me lembrar o meu perfume, oferecido pelos meus amigos: "So what...kiss me!"....so...?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5273727420755795732?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5273727420755795732/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5273727420755795732' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5273727420755795732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5273727420755795732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/09/kiss-me-sixpence-none-richer.html' title='KISS ME -Sixpence None The Richer'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6195909114842225029</id><published>2007-07-10T17:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T16:20:21.144+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Finjo não saber que me observas com o teu olhar inconsequente. Não tiras ilações nem fazes suposições. Sorris como um soldado que dispara a arma ao menor sinal de movimento inimigo. Nesta vida de corre-corre no teu olhar é somente a tua inconsequência que me faz perder a razão. Não és o único que te declaras.&lt;br /&gt;Arrastamos as cadeiras e fazemos jogos de cartas nesta mesa – eis o mistério. Cada vitória tua face à minha inexperiência culmina no teu respirar ofegante. Sei que me beijas só porque o podes e que fazes promessas e assumes o amor como razão.&lt;br /&gt;E fazes-me perdê-la. É o teu sorriso que me faz recusar pensar mais de 2 segundos em ter-te comigo. És alguém que combina com tudo aquilo que gosto, és a melodia que adoro cantar...és parte de toda a minha vida. És o sinal que me aconselha a parar quando fantasio demasiado a realidade; és a liberdade do verão.&lt;br /&gt;Jogos de cartas e sorrisos que te desafiam e finjo não obter resposta no teu olhar. A verdade mostra que sorris com a minha fuga às tuas investidas. Não ignores o prazer que me dás quando uma chamada minha faz o teu momento e quando me beijas, sempre que o consegues. Aprendi que neste jogo nem sempre dito as regras: Apaixonei-me.&lt;br /&gt;A loucura é sinónimo de atitudes insensatas e eu era a Miss Good Behavior. Desafiei a minha própria razão. Não me importa que me chamem de insensata se tenho o teu ombro para chorar. Descobri contigo que a vida é como uma guitarra basta agarrá-la, ter vontade de senti-la e alguém que nos acompanhe enquanto aprendemos a vibra com ela.&lt;br /&gt;Cada segundo, cada dia que passa, és a semente e o fruto da inconsequência dos meus actos; o riscar das minhas preocupações do dia-a-dia; és a voz que não me canso de ouvir limpar as lágrimas do meu rosto. As cartas de amor são doces pegajosos mas agradam a quem as recebe porque não descolam do pensamento. Se sorris ao ler isto verás a rapariga mais em mim o teu espelho.&lt;br /&gt;Nos jogos de sedução foste o único que me definiu como perfeita inconsequente. Segredas-me que sou os teus segundos mas és tu o meu doce sorriso quando não consigo sorrir. O único que me dás segurança para cantar, e canto contigo sem pensar na afinação desfeita da minha voz.&lt;br /&gt;Nestes momentos loucos, indefiníveis, és tudo aquilo que vivi porque foi a tua mão que segurou a minha.&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/8006499754498707416-6195909114842225029?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6195909114842225029/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6195909114842225029' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6195909114842225029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6195909114842225029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/finjo-no-saber-que-me-observas-com-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-5673698377258383970</id><published>2007-07-09T12:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T12:32:19.595+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desafio II&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Regras:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;1 - Pôr o Windows Media Player no modo aleatório (ou outro player qualquer que tenham)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;2 - Carregar "seguinte" para cada pergunta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;3 - Usar o título da música como resposta a cada pergunta, mesmo que não faça sentido e sem fazer batota!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;4 - Com as respostas, fazer os próprios comentários em relação às perguntas e às respostas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;5 - Publicar os resultados e convidar outras pessoas a responderem ao mesmo desafio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;_________________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- Como te sentes hoje?&lt;br /&gt;"Simple Love Song-Duncan James".&lt;br /&gt;"A song just for you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- Vais ser alguém na vida?&lt;br /&gt;"Twisted Logic-Coldplay".&lt;br /&gt;"See the future could be confuse looking for life. Don't fight for the wrong side see how you feel like".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- Como é que os teus amigos te vêem?&lt;br /&gt;"Porto Covo-Rui Veloso".&lt;br /&gt;"Olhando o mundo azul à minha frente"-sonhadora; Porto-a minha 2ª cidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- Vais casar?&lt;br /&gt;"DOA-Foo Fighters".&lt;br /&gt;"I feel fine. Nothing you say gonna change my mind. Waiting in a wait for the longest night. Nothing to the...sweet decline. Never say forever 'cause nothing last" Espero que 1 dia o faça mas entretanto fico na boa...sei que casar significa muito e que não estou preparada para isso...por vezes casar é igual a "para sempre" mas sei que "never say forever 'cause nothing last".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- Qual é a música do teu melhor amigo?&lt;br /&gt;"The best of you-Lee Ryan".&lt;br /&gt;"I've got another confession to make...Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you" és tu que ouves as minhas confissões e sou eu que consigo o melhor de ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6- Qual é a história da tua vida?&lt;br /&gt;"Already Over-Orson".&lt;br /&gt;Como todas as coisas a minha vida tem momentos e todos eles têm um fim para que outros comecem. Para mim cada um é uma "big surprise". Por vezes "I rather be anyone but here; any place but me....It's now the time to play the final card in game I now despise!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7- Como é que foi a Escola Secundária?&lt;br /&gt;"Back on Planet Earth-Ayreon".&lt;br /&gt;Foi o espaço de tempo que me tornou mais humana, em que aprendi que mostrar o que sinto é a minha liberdade. O Secundário apresentou-me pessoas maravilhosas que me ajudaram a crescer... obrigada Pat e Sílvia. Foi também no Secundário que me apaixonei a sério pela primeira vez...obrigada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8- Como é podes ir adiante na vida?&lt;br /&gt;"The heart of life-John Mayer".&lt;br /&gt;"No matter what you going through this one is for you...There are things you need to hear so softned of your tears and listen". Eu quero prosseguir a minha vida ouvindo o que as pessoas que amo me dizem e não sendo o epicentro de tudo o que se passa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 - Qual a melhor coisa nos teus amigos?&lt;br /&gt;"Family Affair-Mary J. Blige".&lt;br /&gt;É o facto deles serem parte da minha familia e não são só os segredos que partilhamos que os tornam my family...é tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10- O que está "in" esta semana?&lt;br /&gt;"Only love-Simon Webbe".&lt;br /&gt;Pelos vistos é só o amor...hum..humm depois conto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11- Como é a tua vida?&lt;br /&gt;"I believe I can fly-R.Kelly".&lt;br /&gt;A minha vida é feita de esperança e de amigos sejam eles familia, amores...que me ajudam a erguer as asas para voar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12- Que música vai tocar no teu funeral?&lt;br /&gt;"Ceillings-Silence 4".&lt;br /&gt;"I feel strange tonight, something wrong tonight"-talves porque é o funeral?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13- Como é que o mundo te vê?&lt;br /&gt;"Elements-Blue".&lt;br /&gt;Talvez como parte do mundo; todos nos vêm de forma diferente: para uns sou água, outros fogo. para alguns terra e talves para ti ar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14- Vais ter uma vida feliz?&lt;br /&gt;"Away from the sun-3 Doors Down".&lt;br /&gt;"I've got to make this life make sense." tenho que dar sentido ao que faço para ser feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15- O que é que os teus amigos pensam realmente de ti?&lt;br /&gt;"From the inside-Linkin Park".&lt;br /&gt;Que eu vivo tudo o que sinto cá dentro e à minha volta com paixão: sou sentimental e não confio nas minhas capacidades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16- As pessoas têm inveja de ti?&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing in my way-Keane".&lt;br /&gt;É dificil alguém ter inveja de mim..se ativerem saibam que "it's just another day and nothing in my way". Mai nada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17- Como te podes fazer feliz?&lt;br /&gt;"Never hada a dream come true-SClub 7".&lt;br /&gt;Quando disser:"I never had a dream come true till the day that I found you.".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18- Com que música fazias um striptease?&lt;br /&gt;"Don't write me off just yet-Hugh Grant".&lt;br /&gt;Música um cadito pausada...mas como é uma declaração em primeira pessoa...Oh, honey se me cantares uima assim eu faço um striptease. Deal?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19- Se um homem numa carrinha te oferecesse um doce, o que farias?&lt;br /&gt;"The gift- Blue".&lt;br /&gt;Atacava-o com a minha veia moralista: Um gift é o que recebes quendo dás mais do que recebes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 - O que é que a tua mãe pensa de ti?&lt;br /&gt;"Run to the water".&lt;br /&gt;Que eu estou em boa forma física: consigo correr! e que eu tento ser como água...Como a corrente de água sou imprevisivel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 - Qual o teu segredo mais profundo?&lt;br /&gt;"Twentysomething-Jamie Cullum".&lt;br /&gt;"After years of expensive education"....achas que te vou revelar?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22- Qual é a música do teu inimigo mortal?&lt;br /&gt;"Home-Michael Bublé".&lt;br /&gt;É melhor correres para casa..tás sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23- Como é a tua personalidade?&lt;br /&gt;"No frontiers-The Corrs ( Sharon&amp;Caroline)".&lt;br /&gt;Sem fronteiras....um mix de caracteristicas...forte e doce; serei capaz de cantar com um amigo ao lado ou contigo maninha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24- Que música vai tocar no dia do teu casamento?&lt;br /&gt;após muito rumbar...trum..trum..trum "The last goodbye-Ronan Keating".&lt;br /&gt;"I know they say if you love me baby...you should set them free"...mas eu estou a casar...então a nossa liberdade seja voar em conjunto...um adeus ao dedo sem aliança..."Sometimes I ask my heart to give love a chance"...e nesse dia vai dar.....&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Ronan estás convidado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Lanço este desafio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;à minha manita Ana do Randomness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Guida do Um bocasinho de tudo...e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Marrga do I want to be your canary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-5673698377258383970?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/5673698377258383970/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=5673698377258383970' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5673698377258383970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/5673698377258383970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/regras-1-pr-o-windows-media-player-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-2856321385517236656</id><published>2007-07-01T13:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T13:44:15.940+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='favorite songs'/><title type='text'>Everything - Michael Bublé (a música do momento)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PqQHMpwMrBE" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"It's you, it's you, you make me sing&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;You're every line, you're every word&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;You're everything."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-2856321385517236656?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/2856321385517236656/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=2856321385517236656' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2856321385517236656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/2856321385517236656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/07/everything-michael-bubl-msica-do.html' title='Everything - Michael Bublé (a música do momento)'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-3749926252716823010</id><published>2007-06-06T23:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T13:35:32.366+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desafio</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Resposta ao desafio já lançado há muito tempo pela Guida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7 coisas que faço bem:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-defender dois pontos de vista opostos&lt;br /&gt;-bijutarias&lt;br /&gt;-escrever&lt;br /&gt;-desenhar&lt;br /&gt;-perder-me na minha imaginação&lt;br /&gt;-cantar “à capela” (segundo a Marrrga)&lt;br /&gt;-dançar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7 coisas que não faço:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sorrir nas fotos&lt;br /&gt;-compactuar com injustiças-desportos radicais&lt;br /&gt;-namorar&lt;br /&gt;-ber o Quim no Enterro&lt;br /&gt;-cozinhar&lt;br /&gt;-escrever LOL em conversas do msn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7coisas que aprecio no sexo oposto:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-maturidade&lt;br /&gt;-sentido de humor&lt;br /&gt;-personalidade forte&lt;br /&gt;-romantismo q.b.&lt;br /&gt;-equilíbrio das duas belezas...&lt;br /&gt;-que me receba com um sorriso&lt;br /&gt;-que tenha objectivos traçados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7actores/actrizes:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Winona Ryder&lt;br /&gt;-Cris O’Donnel&lt;br /&gt;-Richard Gere&lt;br /&gt;-Julia Roberts&lt;br /&gt;-George Clonney&lt;br /&gt;-John Cusack&lt;br /&gt;-Sandra Bullock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7 coisas que digo diariamente:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-“que horror!”&lt;br /&gt;-“eu não consigo...”&lt;br /&gt;-“vocês não estão a perceber”&lt;br /&gt;-“boas energias atraem boas energias”&lt;br /&gt;-“oh meu amigo!”&lt;br /&gt;-“queres que eu repita?”&lt;br /&gt;-canções...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desafio a Ana (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://exquisite7.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;randomness&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;), o Hugo (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://omarsemfim.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;o mar sem fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;) e o Zézito (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://climatico.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;climatico&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt; !!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-3749926252716823010?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/3749926252716823010/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=3749926252716823010' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3749926252716823010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/3749926252716823010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/desafio.html' title='Desafio'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6977602082377031505</id><published>2007-06-04T15:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:39.046Z</updated><title type='text'>I'm not perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQhogPp6KI/AAAAAAAAABs/tv2MOmjwUII/s1600-h/9572.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072216060060100770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQhogPp6KI/AAAAAAAAABs/tv2MOmjwUII/s200/9572.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence 4 - I'm Not Perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've been taught not to lie,&lt;br /&gt;I was a scout full of pride .&lt;br /&gt;But I can't share none of what I'm feeling now&lt;br /&gt;And you resent me.&lt;br /&gt;But it's the lies that keeps you around&lt;br /&gt;I'm not perfect, I'm just a fake&lt;br /&gt;But still you ask for more than I can act&lt;br /&gt;And it just drains me out&lt;br /&gt;Then you say to drop my armour and be myself&lt;br /&gt;You've been tired of my defenses&lt;br /&gt;Stupid reasons&lt;br /&gt;Deceiving you and your senses&lt;br /&gt;But I'm protecting you from this hell&lt;br /&gt;I'm not perfect, I'm just a fake&lt;br /&gt;But still you ask for more than I can act&lt;br /&gt;And it just drains me out&lt;br /&gt;Stop lying Stop faking&lt;br /&gt;You're nothing You're just a waste of time&lt;br /&gt;For 9 months I've been pregnant with lies&lt;br /&gt;And soon she'll be sreaming the screams,&lt;br /&gt;Screaming I've been trying to hide them from you&lt;br /&gt;With illusions&lt;br /&gt;Truth can bring so much useless, worthless,&lt;br /&gt;unconceiving PAIN&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the pain&lt;br /&gt;But still you ask for more than I can act&lt;br /&gt;And I can't cope with it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6977602082377031505?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6977602082377031505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6977602082377031505' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6977602082377031505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6977602082377031505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-not-perfect.html' title='I&apos;m not perfect'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQhogPp6KI/AAAAAAAAABs/tv2MOmjwUII/s72-c/9572.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-6900763250536786539</id><published>2007-06-04T14:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:39.207Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQTHwPp6JI/AAAAAAAAABk/5Fo_j4jCyiY/s1600-h/vv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072200104256596114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQTHwPp6JI/AAAAAAAAABk/5Fo_j4jCyiY/s200/vv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, well thank you for the award it really, really means a lot to me. Once and again thank you Zezito. Este é um prémio que é atribuido por um blogger que acredita que o teu, neste caso meu, blog o faz pensar. Agora cabe-me a mim atribui-lo a 5 blogs. Aqui vai..........(já se ouve o rufar dos tambores):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://exquisite7.blogspot.com/"&gt;Randomness&lt;/a&gt;------------------------this one it's for you sis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://omarsemfim.blogspot.com/"&gt;O mar sem fim&lt;/a&gt;----------------------do poeta Hugo&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://iwanttobeyourcanary.blog.pt"&gt;I Want to be Your Canary&lt;/a&gt;-----------com esperança que me volte a fazer pensar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://umbocadinhodetudo.blogspot.com/"&gt;Um Bocadinho de Tudo&lt;/a&gt;--------------porque é assim que a vida é.....and the last but not the least.....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://nemecrui.blogspot.com/"&gt;Nemec Thoughts&lt;/a&gt;--------------------estes pensamentos requerem este prémio;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Congratulations&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-6900763250536786539?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/6900763250536786539/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=6900763250536786539' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6900763250536786539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/6900763250536786539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/well-well-thank-you-for-award-it-really.html' title=''/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQTHwPp6JI/AAAAAAAAABk/5Fo_j4jCyiY/s72-c/vv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-7245713763471820577</id><published>2007-06-04T13:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:40.443Z</updated><title type='text'>Don't be a secret for too long ;)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Maria, A Secret Agent is the man of your dreams &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072195010425383042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQOfQPp6II/AAAAAAAAABc/rQtzBxJ2b4o/s200/Secret_Agent_Man_by_szarancza.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mystery and intrigue — it's not just for action-adventure movies. It's what you are looking for in life and love. From spontaneous weekend getaways to notes stuck in your jean pockets, you love being surprised and appreciate the extra thought and effort that goes into making it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why a secret agent could steal your heart — he's got what it takes to change the world, but he's not about to go around shouting about it. But don't worry, your secret's safe with us. Shhhh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-7245713763471820577?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/7245713763471820577/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=7245713763471820577' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7245713763471820577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/7245713763471820577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/dont-be-secret-for-to-long.html' title='Don&apos;t be a secret for too long ;)'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmQOfQPp6II/AAAAAAAAABc/rQtzBxJ2b4o/s72-c/Secret_Agent_Man_by_szarancza.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-314754798817699926</id><published>2007-06-01T16:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:40.593Z</updated><title type='text'>José Rui Teixeira, poeta contemporâneo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmBDWAPp6HI/AAAAAAAAABU/iVDQJLHB4VE/s1600-h/DSC03053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071127225721022578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmBDWAPp6HI/AAAAAAAAABU/iVDQJLHB4VE/s200/DSC03053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"A magnólia floriu este Inverno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E eu não sei dizer-te&lt;br /&gt;Que me comove ainda que dê flor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;José Rui Teixeira, &lt;em&gt;Oráculo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Zerbino regressava a casa por ruas estreitas. Trazia a morte como cães amarrados às pernas e pássaros azuis de fome como mesas côncavas por baixo da luz."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;José Rui Teixeira, &lt;em&gt;Zerbino&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-314754798817699926?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/314754798817699926/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=314754798817699926' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/314754798817699926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/314754798817699926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/06/jos-rui-teixeira-poeta-contemporneo.html' title='José Rui Teixeira, poeta contemporâneo'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RmBDWAPp6HI/AAAAAAAAABU/iVDQJLHB4VE/s72-c/DSC03053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4155925204682150677</id><published>2007-05-04T14:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:40.731Z</updated><title type='text'>As 10 coisas que mais odeio sobre mim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RjyNwRFzf7I/AAAAAAAAAA8/N0fE5nsCn5A/s1600-h/Curled_up_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061075941618581426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="234" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RjyNwRFzf7I/AAAAAAAAAA8/N0fE5nsCn5A/s200/Curled_up_.jpg" width="175" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odeio quando digo "Que Horror" para recalcar o arrependimento.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio que as lágrimas abafadas sejam constantes e o meu sorriso fechado.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio o facto de não conseguir chorar em público pela fobia de transparecer o que não quero e de ser o fruto da dor.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio que me tomem por fraca e que me vejam como uma muralha.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio ser uma péssima condutora mas que a minha imaginação exceda o limite de velocidade saudável.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio que não consiga dizer Adoro-te quando o sinto.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio não poder dizer também te amo.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio que queira sempre agradar a gregos e a troianos e que não me adjectivem de assertiva com razão.&lt;br /&gt;Odeio que indecisão, insegurança e freckels sejam as minhas caracteristicas chave.&lt;br /&gt;Acima de tudo, odeio que estas 10 linhas sejam tão poucas para enumerar o que odeio em mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4155925204682150677?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4155925204682150677/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4155925204682150677' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4155925204682150677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4155925204682150677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/05/as-10-coisas-que-mais-odeio-sobre-mim.html' title='As 10 coisas que mais odeio sobre mim'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RjyNwRFzf7I/AAAAAAAAAA8/N0fE5nsCn5A/s72-c/Curled_up_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4866499620080105268</id><published>2007-04-11T14:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:40.836Z</updated><title type='text'>Declarações de bolso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Rhzq2FrQFgI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vDLb6UxWg0U/s1600-h/e8fec442a3f14175.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052171096960275970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Rhzq2FrQFgI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vDLb6UxWg0U/s200/e8fec442a3f14175.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem razão concreta pensei por alguns instantes na razão desonhecida para os que se assumem apaixonados só dizerem "babozeiras". Não encontrei solução para o caso.&lt;br /&gt;Há dias uma pessoa que não posso precisar quem questionou outra semelhante sobre o motivo de estar apaixonada por X elemento do sexo masculino ( o X pode ser entendido como variável mas não no sentido matemático da coisa). A resposta foi a seguinte: " Não sei...foi aquela carinha de menino mimado...e também maroto."&lt;br /&gt;DESCULPA?!&lt;br /&gt;Não percebo porque raio estes seres que dizem ter sido atingidos pela seta do amor não sabem explicar quais os factos de terem levado uma "picadela"! Além de que "menino mimado" tem conotação depreciativa e por isso não me parece razão para ver corações a saltar do ecrã (como os Morangos com Açúcar muito gostam de exibir). Quanto ao "menino maroto" parece-me justo: maroto faz pensar em atrevido, atrevido faz-me lembrar....e por ai adiante; no final das sucessões provavelmente há um adjectivo interessante ou não!&lt;br /&gt;Pior que esta espécie de declaração é querer, no tão concorrido hi5, atribuir um five de "fofa" ou então "fofinha". Não há paciência!&lt;br /&gt;Para todas as abelhas à procura de mel ou flor (já não me recordo da pirosada) se não têm veia artística, filosófica ou mesmo tilim podem optar por "pedir emprestado" versos, estrofes ou mesmo a totalidade de poemas aos seus autores. Como outra opção surgem os trechos de músicas.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, por favor, não façam pirataria. Olhem que o André e os companheiros dos Morangos com Açúcar, num tom discreto de publicidade barata e berrante, são contra. No entanto podem seguir o exemplo do outro, o qual não sei o nome, que está a fazer uma pipa de massa com a venda dos CDs piratas (pelo menos enquanto os bons da fita não derrotarem os maus,ou seja, ele, numa cena enebriante).&lt;br /&gt;Assim das vicissitudes da vida passámos para a tragédia dos Morangos com Açúcar. Que por sê-lo transforma a vida dos ignóbeis que copiam as suas personagens numa tragédia.&lt;br /&gt;Agora surge a questão:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Que importa tudo isto, mas que importa tudo isto &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ao fúlgido e rubro ruído contemporâneo, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ao ruído cruel e delicioso da civilização de hoje?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;«Álvaro Campos, Ode Triunfal»&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4866499620080105268?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4866499620080105268/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4866499620080105268' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4866499620080105268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4866499620080105268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/04/declaraes-de-bolso.html' title='Declarações de bolso'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/Rhzq2FrQFgI/AAAAAAAAAA0/vDLb6UxWg0U/s72-c/e8fec442a3f14175.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4148140285409401202</id><published>2007-03-17T21:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-17T21:52:43.307Z</updated><title type='text'>Message in a bottle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As palavras que nunca te direi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Querida Catherine:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Lamento não te ter falado durante tanto tempo. Sinto que andei perdido, sem rota, nem bússola. Estava sempre a esbarrar nas coisas, talvez por carolice. Nunca me tinha sentido perdido. Tu eras o meu verdadeiro Norte. Quando tu eras o meu porto, sabia sempre voltar para casa. Perdoa ter ficado tão zangado quando partiste. Continuo a achar que foram cometidos alguns erros e estou à espera que Deus os corrija. Mas já ando melhor. O trabalho ajuda-me. Acima de tudo, tu ajudas-me. Ontem apareceste-me num sonho, com aquele teu sorriso......que sempre me prendeu a ti......e me consolou.T udo que me lembro do sonho foi uma sensação de paz. Acordei com essa sensação e tentei conservá-la tanto quanto me foi possível. Escrevo para te dizer que estou a trabalhar para alcançar essa paz. E para te dizer que lamento tantas coisas. Lamento não ter tratado melhor de ti. .....para que não passasses minuto algum doente, com frio ou com medo. ""Lamento não me ter esforcado mais......por te dizer aquilo que sentia. Lamento nunca ter arranjado a guarda da porta. Arranjei-a agora. Lamento as discussões que tive contigo. Lamento não te ter pedido mais vezes desculpa por ser demasiado orgulhoso. Lamento não ter elogiado......tudo aquilo que vestias e todos os teus penteados. Lamento não te ter agarrado com tanta forca......que nem Deus te pudesse arrancar de mim. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Com todo o meu amor, G. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4148140285409401202?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4148140285409401202/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4148140285409401202' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4148140285409401202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4148140285409401202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/03/message-in-bottle.html' title='Message in a bottle'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-1455386619639257910</id><published>2007-02-16T14:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-16T14:31:23.065Z</updated><title type='text'>They were friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Espen Lind - When Susanna cries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;“(…) Now I slip the night around her and I hope she'll be okay. I just pray someone will find her and guide her along her way'cos I'm leaving on the 1 am (…)”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;They were friends. The beginning of their story is made of some Tom&amp;Jerry’s quotes. The mouse was running away from the cat. He was the cat and she was the mouse. But she had always been the cat. For her it was an awkward situation. So she was running away from him. But he didn’t want her to be his girlfriend. When she realises that he wasn’t a cat they become friends. And at the end there was no race at all. So many mysteries she found in him that she started to desire him to be the cat. Unfortunately the wished cat wasn’t in love with her because he preferred a “him”. The story began with two characters: the cat, Phill – a homosexual boy – and the mouse, Andrea – a next door decided girl.  Andrea was missing her beloved friend when she realised that she was running away from another. Phill found in Andrea a friend he could trust for ever and ever. The friendship that tied them was good enough for both. At least it was what they thought. Meanwhile Andrea discovered that she wanted more but she didn’t want to blow it because he had once told her: “Andrea, I’m not afraid to say this to you. I’m homosexual”. For a long time she carried a feeling without showing it. But the storm was getting closer and the car had some troubles. “Control, control, control it”. The driver didn’t control the car so it crashed against a tree. They could see that someone had just had a car crash. “Call 911, call 911!” – said she. He made it immediately. The ambulance came fast after the couple’s phone call, but not enough to save a life.           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; The next morning Andrea was thinking to herself: “The birds can sing in the sky, each of them make a different sound. Day by day you learn that no one is equal and when one of them disappears you’d wish you had time enough to hear it. But the sun rises in the sky and lay down on the ocean and another day is prepared to arise. What difference can it make if the strength that feeds you every single day is no longer in our material world? The magic makes our dreams remain possible. The world without coloured feelings is dark magic. It throws us to a grey night so confused that we can no longer see the stars.” This was the speech she found her self sharing with so many people.  &lt;br /&gt;  After everyone went away, there she was, lying on the ground somewhere next to her beloved one. The grass had a deeper green and all those stones were craving her heart. On her knees, she begged for a reason why he was not with her, why he preferred to sleep alone on that grave after his car crush.     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;“Why? What were you thinking when you left me? Why? Why you? Say it! Why, Phill?” – She punched the floor with that entire slave strength that made her cry. – “Make the world stop turning. Make my tears drawn the faking smiles. And you would say that you never heard me crying but I know it isn’t true, although you never told me. I know somewhere around me you’ll be cleaning my tears. Because I’m crying cause you left me. I cry a rainstorm, I cry a river. I wish I wouldn’t be able to cry for love, for this painful song. I’m crying your touch that made me shiver and I cry for you too. Every night I hear you talking in my sleep and you say: “You know I’ll always be there”. And I feel like it’s such a dream. Just say that you adore me that it’s all I ask.”  All the memories are now alive on her eyes. Andrea remembers each step he took to get close to her. Every excuse she gave him seemed right but now it seems a waste of time, time she could have spent with him. The moment to say goodbye was closer. “I just pray someone will find you and guide you on your way. You’ll always be my friend though I’m leaving tonight. Cause I can’t stand another compassion speech. Goodbye my friend.”So she dropped the yellow flowers on Phill’s grave and went way.&lt;br /&gt;The things were packed. She was prepared to travel to see the friend she longed to have right next to her. She needed a shoulder: “I need you Louise.” &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/8006499754498707416-1455386619639257910?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/1455386619639257910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=1455386619639257910' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1455386619639257910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/1455386619639257910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/02/they-were-friends.html' title='They were friends'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8006499754498707416.post-4233191059727684670</id><published>2007-02-15T19:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:46:41.624Z</updated><title type='text'>History is made of fortunate accidents</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RdS5Gt6rGLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yIZnDmPdiJs/s1600-h/serendipity_b00005oaia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031850208735729842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RdS5Gt6rGLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yIZnDmPdiJs/s200/serendipity_b00005oaia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's new, it's new! But it has a story....Once upon a time....and then in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;middle of the story you will find me, you , him ,her, us and them! Actually what I want you to know is that serendipity is inside every single bein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;g. Serendipity makes our history. Serendipity guide us to a world of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;unexpected but pleasant discoveries made by chance. Perhaps you should quest for the reason that brought you into this blog. Fate made me believe in fortunate accidents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8006499754498707416-4233191059727684670?l=ciuzzi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/feeds/4233191059727684670/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8006499754498707416&amp;postID=4233191059727684670' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4233191059727684670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8006499754498707416/posts/default/4233191059727684670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ciuzzi.blogspot.com/2007/02/history-is-made-of-fortunate-accidents.html' title='History is made of fortunate accidents'/><author><name>Lu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18038392248612680995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/SdvnoRx1bCI/AAAAAAAAAKY/pqqgwxI-X8s/S220/jantar_07_03_09.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_g_7QJDVTPL8/RdS5Gt6rGLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yIZnDmPdiJs/s72-c/serendipity_b00005oaia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
