<?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-8869013831131932113</id><updated>2011-09-20T14:58:25.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Eterno Aprendiz</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-3631823576867154567</id><published>2011-08-22T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T17:01:33.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt; A arte como direção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Antes de começarmos a falar sobre a influência da arte na vida pessoal e coletiva, teremos que pôr em prática nossos conhecimentos históricos e contemporâneos , sendo mais claro, ´´a arte se resume em dois pontos distintos entre o passado e o futuro, que triunfam como o gameta e espermatazóides&amp;nbsp; que num toque se consomem.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Crianças que antes eram tímidas, incapazes de se expressarem, poderão com o contato da arte, vencer seus medos e realizar desejos capazes de mudar o rumo da civilização.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Como na maioria dos princípios artísticos inseridos na massa cinzenta das pessoas, eu , particularmente digo que arte é uma maneira relativa de flexionar seu pensamento positivo, ou seja, compor a cada passo e palavra tomada por sua essência. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;‘’ Lourival Junior``&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;*&amp;nbsp;No primeiro parágrafo me inspirei num trecho de Romeu e Julieta. E esse texto é de um trabalho de escola.&lt;/b&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/8869013831131932113-3631823576867154567?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/3631823576867154567/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/08/arte-como-direcao-antes-de-comecarmos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/3631823576867154567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/3631823576867154567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/08/arte-como-direcao-antes-de-comecarmos.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-2053832290102690983</id><published>2011-06-21T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T09:30:32.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;A terceira ilusão&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;No morro mais alto do bosque mora Jean,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Um homem solitário, deprimido e equívoco,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Não mais olha nos olhos de sua amada, que um dia lhe&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;prometeu lhe dar &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;flores,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ainda lembra cada frase que ela dizia ao seu ouvido,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ela vive numa montanha russa com seu companheiro,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jean sempre dizia que a desejava, mas ela tola, se entregou mais uma vez nos braços daquele que finge ser inocente e a amar.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu realmente sei que jamais poderei ficar com ela, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas só queria que se isto fosse acabar dessa maneira, seria melhor não ter me dito uma só palavra sobre querer-me quando estivesse sóbria, &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Já que me deixou sem esperanças de acreditar na sua boca outra vez.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;‘’ Lourival Junior ’’,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-2053832290102690983?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/2053832290102690983/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/06/terceira-ilusao-no-morro-mais-alto-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2053832290102690983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2053832290102690983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/06/terceira-ilusao-no-morro-mais-alto-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-2373965708565423859</id><published>2011-06-04T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T17:51:19.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fale mais uma vez &lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;È muito fácil olhar para você e fingir que tudo está bem,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Não é como olhar uma sombra no deserto e demonstrar que a deseja,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Eu achava que você queria me beijar&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Antes, nós nos relacionávamos melhor, eu acho, nos tocávamos sem medo&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Não ligávamos muito para o que estava acontecendo, agora tudo está muito sério&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nos olhamos profundamente, posso ver sua alma&amp;nbsp; e você a minha&lt;i&gt;,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Os ponteiros diziam que já podíamos nos beijar, então, pra que esperar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Seria exagero dizer que acordo pensando em você?&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;O vento trás sua voz firme até mim&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;O meu maior medo e nunca poder sentir seu hálit&lt;i&gt;o&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Preciso rapidamente me fortalecer, poderia ir em busca de outra?&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Nos olhamos profundamente, posso ver sua alma&amp;nbsp; e você a minha,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Os ponteiros diziam que já podíamos nos beijar, então, pra que esperar?&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;E&lt;/i&gt;stá bem, eu nunca vou desistir de você,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Pode até levar a nossa velhice, mas vou te mostrar o que você sempre quis&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;e esperou de mim,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Eu te magoei , por não ter dado a você o queri&lt;i&gt;a&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Agora, eu quero, preciso que você me peça o que quiser, só para ouvir sua voz quando se torna doce&lt;i&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Nos olhamos profundamente, posso ver sua alma&amp;nbsp; e você a minha,&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Os ponteiros diziam que já podíamos nos beijar, então, pra que esperar?&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;‘’ Lourival Junior’’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Obs: peguem maneiro comigo pois é a primeira música que escrevo (sério) para postar no blog&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-2373965708565423859?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/2373965708565423859/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/06/fale-mais-uma-vez-e-muito-facil-olhar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2373965708565423859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2373965708565423859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/06/fale-mais-uma-vez-e-muito-facil-olhar.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-4109951839955781061</id><published>2011-05-14T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T17:56:26.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Querer&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Voar, Pedir de Mais ou Se Conformar? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Como é bonito, as aves voando em um céu infinito que só podemos chegar até lá em uma máquina gigantesca, mas sem poder sentir a brisa nos tocando, elas fazem uma espiral no céu, causando encanto e inveja aos que observam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Toda criança um dia sonha em voar, comentam com outras que aves seriam e como brincariam no céu, depois de um tempo, esse desejo morre, eu não, observo todos os dias imaginando a sensação de excitamento e superioridade desses animais sobre nós, e , até hoje esse sentimento permanece em mim, muitas vezes sonho voando, acho que Deus realiza muitas vezes meus desejos em sonhos, me deixando enquanto repouso uma sensação de como seria poder ir além dos nossos próprios limites.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; '' Lourival Junior''&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-4109951839955781061?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/4109951839955781061/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/05/querer-voar-pedir-de-mais-ou-se.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/4109951839955781061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/4109951839955781061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/05/querer-voar-pedir-de-mais-ou-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-7259743004656094880</id><published>2011-05-05T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T17:37:46.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: #274e13;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Segundos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Estou cansado de tudo que está ao meu redor, sempre vejo os afazeres como uma forma de ocupar o tempo, fico concentrado em tal atividade diária, que não sei em que direção o mundo esta indo e que lugar deste irei parar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; O dia começa cedo, assim como a noite termina cedo, temos um pequeno espaço de tempo para nos propor a pensar e fazer algo que tenha realmente sentido em nossas vidas. O trabalho nos consomem por completos, deixando apenas um farelo de energia e um poço centralizado de cansaço, nos restando apenas fazer uma coisa, descansar, descansamos tanto que ao seguir para uma rota, nos sentimos enojados para uma vida nova com Deus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Eu preciso de uma mudança , preciso de uma vida farta de alegrias, esperanças, vitórias e coragem, para erguer a cabeça e seguir meu caminho sem medo de bombear ou cair. Tiremos uma hora do dia para conosco, para podermos analisar nossos métodos para depois voltarmos as duras regras do sistema em que vivemos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #e69138;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;‘’ Lourival Junior’’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-7259743004656094880?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/7259743004656094880/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/05/segundos-estou-cansado-de-tudo-que-esta.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/7259743004656094880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/7259743004656094880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/05/segundos-estou-cansado-de-tudo-que-esta.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-2349130457062565547</id><published>2011-04-25T14:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T14:55:14.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;19 De Abril &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Hoje é um dia qualquer, ouvindo minhas músicas, flutuo sob minha mente recordando minhas lembranças, seria tão bom poder ficar mais próximo a quem você tanto deseja, assistir o show de sua cantora preferida, ganhar aquele presente que tanto sonhamos,poder ganhar aquela viagem até Europa, perdoar aquele amigo que nos magoou .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;A maioria das pessoas se sentem felizes no dia de seu aniversário, chamam seus amigos preferidos, comemoram com sua família, ganham beijos e presentes. Amanhã será meu aniversário, será que devo comemorar apenas para não deixar passar ‘’em branco’’? Sinto-me preso a um calabouço, uma sensação como se fosse o último dia de minha vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Poderíamos guardar esse dia tão especial para refletirmos sobre nossos caminhos, analisar se o que estamos fazendo é o certo ou o errado,tentar consertar o coração quebrado, secar as lágrimas que causamos, apagar as palavras más que dissemos,&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;procurar seguir o caminho da salvação, pedir a Deus uma mudança e agradecê-lo por cada um de nós termos o nosso ‘’próprio dia’’ em especial entre outros que ele nos deu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Eu falei com você, e porque me ignorou? não, eu não mereço o que vocês estão dizendo, me olham de uma maneira cômica, como se eu fosse aquele vilão de um filme de terror. Julgam-me pelo o que vêem de longe, isso terá um fim? Posso eu mudar para satisfazer aos que me não me conhecem de perto? Queria que amanhã tudo tomasse um rumo diferente, já que amanhã é meu aniversário e posso pedir um presente, pedirei a Deus em minha oração apenas uma coisa; um coração de gelo, para que nenhuma pequena chama humana possa derretê-lo e que nenhuma criatura deste mundo possa ferir o que não posso sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; '' Lourival Junior''&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/8869013831131932113-2349130457062565547?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/2349130457062565547/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/04/19-de-abril-hoje-e-um-dia-qualquer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2349130457062565547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/2349130457062565547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/04/19-de-abril-hoje-e-um-dia-qualquer.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-291400250812999026</id><published>2011-04-07T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T15:48:09.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt; Pequenas coisas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;Ele entrou no trem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;a velha usava luvas nas mãos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;abrindo o saco de batatas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Qj_01_67xM/TZ41HNmvYzI/AAAAAAAAAKk/n5YRuLXP1aI/s1600/trem21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="181" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Qj_01_67xM/TZ41HNmvYzI/AAAAAAAAAKk/n5YRuLXP1aI/s200/trem21.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;percebeu o quão estava consumida pelo tempo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; o trem passou pela estação 86&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; olhando ao redor, sentou-se no&amp;nbsp;último vagão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;a menina perguntou ao homem porque estava triste,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;ele senta a garota no seu colo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;as gotas de chuva são arremessadas contra a janela de vidro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;brincando com os dedos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;a velha vai em direção à multidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;se perdendo no mar de tubarões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; '' Lourival Junior''&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &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/8869013831131932113-291400250812999026?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/291400250812999026/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/04/pequenas-coisas-ele-entrou-no-trem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/291400250812999026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/291400250812999026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/04/pequenas-coisas-ele-entrou-no-trem.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Qj_01_67xM/TZ41HNmvYzI/AAAAAAAAAKk/n5YRuLXP1aI/s72-c/trem21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-3482399806066738364</id><published>2011-03-31T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T16:58:41.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sentimentos Ocultos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: black; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Num sistema em que vivemos, desde novos aprendemos que homens não choram, é necessário fixar que, quando nossos pais nos dizem isso, eles se preocupam em tornar filhos fortes ou filhos com orgulho, cujo fato é mostrar que somos homens de verdade(machista), que não podemos revelar o que realmente sentimos?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: black; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nos versos de seus diários, elas escrevem seus sentimentos, desejos e sonhos, e nós? Homens de ferro?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Criamos um casco que só com muita retulância pode ser quebrado. Os homens criam uma imagem oposta do que realmente são . Vemos desde crianças nossos pais sérios, brincalhões e tensos, mas por qual motivo não revelamos à nossas companheiras o que sentimos? Nossos medos, aflições e desabafos?.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: black; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Essa nossa personalidade resultou em mágoas, pois muitas vezes não demonstramos a elas que à amamos. Elas pensam que somos frios,mas na verdade somos todos iguais, temos vontade de por nossa cabeça no colo delas, contar sobre como foi o nosso dia, revelar nossas angústias, chorar quando não podermos mais ficar calados.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: black; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; No fundo somos tão sensíveis como uma pétala, que uma pequena rajada de vento poderá despedaçá-la &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;ao meio. Só pedimos que tenham compaixões infinitas, porque nunca poderemos nos tornar melhores, pois a natureza reservou este lugar para elas. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; '' Lourival Júnior''&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-3482399806066738364?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/3482399806066738364/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/sentimentos-ocultos-num-sistema-em-que.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/3482399806066738364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/3482399806066738364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/sentimentos-ocultos-num-sistema-em-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-1431283836463140773</id><published>2011-03-23T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T13:11:51.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #93c47d;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3; color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Na Mesma Direção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3; color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;As nuvens se deslocam consequentemente para aonde o vento as levarem, sem um rumo, elas irão se propagar para a mesma direção, este mesmo acontece com os seres humanos, que nos deixamos levar pela palavras doces e malignas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;Agimos sempre da mesma maneira, como pequenos fantoches de peças infantis, nos tornamos mais insignificantes a cada minuto que respiramos, ontem bricavamos de pique no alto, hoje ridicularizamos o que há de bonito, futuramente desejaremos as mocinhas e fofocaremos com o vizinho, porque não viver como dizem as escrituras?, As folhas caem, como vidas que se perdem a cada hora que o vento sopra.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;Para que invejar o próximo se não podemos nos igualar a ele?, cortar o cabelo como de um cantor famoso, usar um lindo vestido que uma atriz usou, comprar o tênis que o amigo comprou?, tentativas inúteis de sentir melhor, pois a cada pontada de inveja, nos tornamos mais supérfluos e intolerantes, e nunca conseguiremos ser mais perfeito e se sentir melhor que o outro.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #d9ead3;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;Lourival Junior&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8869013831131932113-1431283836463140773?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/1431283836463140773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/na-mesma-direcao-as-nuvens-se-deslocam.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/1431283836463140773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/1431283836463140773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/na-mesma-direcao-as-nuvens-se-deslocam.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869013831131932113.post-6350020716868933440</id><published>2011-03-22T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T15:24:28.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ISSO É MUITA SABEDORIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #38761d; font-size: large;"&gt;''Quando fazemos tudo para que nos amem e não conseguimos, resta-nos um último recurso: não fazer mais nada. Por isso, digo, quando não obtivermos o amor, o afeto ou a ternura que havíamos solicitado, melhor será desistirmos e procurar mais adiante os sentimentos que nos negaram. Não fazer esforços inúteis, pois o amor nasce, ou não, espontaneamente, mas nunca por força de imposição. Às vezes, é inútil esforçar-se demais, nada se consegue;outras vezes, nada damos e o amor se rende aos nossos pés. Os sentimentos são sempre uma surpresa. Nunca foram uma caridade mendigada, uma compaixão ou um favor concedido. Quase sempre amamos a quem nos ama mal, e desprezamos quem melhor nos quer. Assim, repito, quando tivermos feito tudo para conseguir um amor, e falhado, resta-nos um só caminho...o de mais nada fazer.''&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #d0e0e3; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Clarice Lispector&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/8869013831131932113-6350020716868933440?l=reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/feeds/6350020716868933440/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/isso-e-muita-sabedoria.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/6350020716868933440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8869013831131932113/posts/default/6350020716868933440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://reflexosdaminhaalma.blogspot.com/2011/03/isso-e-muita-sabedoria.html' title='ISSO É MUITA SABEDORIA'/><author><name>Lourival Júnior</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13991321035416992405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
