<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Tue, 13 Oct 2009 10:27:48 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>B|_|N£k4 d£ Tr4p[]$</title><description>"slice_of_soul"... de uma boneca de trapos... de uma pequena e frágil boneca de trapos...</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-3097622844573488892</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 00:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-09T01:35:56.411+01:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;p&gt;e um dia...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;um dia tudo se tornou um enorme vazio...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;nesse dia... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;a tua alma abandonou-te...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;e o teu corpo ficou a ser apenas um invólucro usado de algo...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;para mim...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;hoje é esse dia!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-3097622844573488892?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-um-dia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-7834444823148841753</guid><pubDate>Tue, 02 Dec 2008 01:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-12-02T02:01:37.006Z</atom:updated><title>descontrolo.. distúrbio humanamente emocional...</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;****-**!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;olhas em volta e alguma felicidade causa-te vómitos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;ouves palavras que te trazem tonturas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;tocas coisas que te ferem a alma...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;saboreias o amargo gosto do sangue que um dia vertes-te daquelas feridas que pareciam já ter começado a sarar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;inspiras... e sentes de novo aquele nauseabundo odor da putrefacção do teu próprio corpo contorcido com aquela dor.. aquela!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;fechas os olhos com força, não vês, não ouves, não tocas, não saboreias e nem te atreves a respirar... mas nao páras de pensar.. isso não consegues fazer... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;e e isso... exactamente isso que te mata, uma outra, e ainda outra vez! porque voltas.. mais tarde ou mais cedo a recordar aquilo que tentas-te com todas as tuas forças enterrar bem longe de ti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-7834444823148841753?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2008/12/descontrolo-distrbio-humanamente.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-4144936096987066934</guid><pubDate>Sat, 22 Mar 2008 19:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-22T19:50:54.889Z</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"EU AMO TUDO o que foi, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tudo o que já não é, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dor que já me não dói, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A antiga e errônea fé, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O ontem que dor deixou,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O que deixou alegria&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só porque foi, e voou&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;E hoje é já outro dia. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-4144936096987066934?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2008/03/eu-amo-tudo-o-que-foi-tudo-o-que-j-no.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-3804795417394695703</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 Mar 2008 12:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-21T12:46:03.365Z</atom:updated><title>saudades de mim</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tenho saudades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;saudades de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;de ti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;saudades da vida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tenho saudades...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;saudades de ser...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;de ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;de ter...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;de querer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;e de conseguir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;tenho saudades de ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-3804795417394695703?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2008/03/saudades-de-mim.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-1755821664015321600</guid><pubDate>Fri, 21 Mar 2008 12:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-21T12:33:37.090Z</atom:updated><title>gritos oprimidos I</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/R-Oq2e9_L7I/AAAAAAAAACk/iIXdNf1vMEw/s1600-h/14122007030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180171849408917426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/R-Oq2e9_L7I/AAAAAAAAACk/iIXdNf1vMEw/s320/14122007030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Chega…&lt;br /&gt;Porque acumular não resolve…&lt;br /&gt;E falar também não…&lt;br /&gt;Porque ficar em silêncio apenas mata…&lt;br /&gt;E gritar apenas me esgota…&lt;br /&gt;Por isso chega…&lt;br /&gt;Para ti já chegou..&lt;br /&gt;Para mim fica por aqui…&lt;br /&gt;De que adiantam efémeros momentos,&lt;br /&gt;Se tudo se consome em segundos apenas…&lt;br /&gt;E volta tudo ao vazio de antes?!&lt;br /&gt;Chega..&lt;br /&gt;Chega de ser asfixiada pelo teu monumental direito “de ser quem sou”&lt;br /&gt;Chega de me oprimir atrás de um véu que não é meu, que não conheço e que não desejo…&lt;br /&gt;A sério chega, talvez nem seja assim tão mau…&lt;br /&gt;Talvez o problema até seja mesmo eu…&lt;br /&gt;Talvez…&lt;br /&gt;Mas se para ti és apenas tu.. chega…&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro descer nesta paragem, e ficar por aqui…&lt;br /&gt;Sempre caminhei sozinha..&lt;br /&gt;Já me habituei à dureza da solidão..&lt;br /&gt;Foi bom caminhar contigo enquanto para ti eu era novidade…&lt;br /&gt;Agora, guardo apenas as coisas boas, na esperança que um dia o tempo… nos dê outra oportunidade, desta vez a nós, e não apenas a ti…&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/19569761-1755821664015321600?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2008/03/gritos-oprimidos-i.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/R-Oq2e9_L7I/AAAAAAAAACk/iIXdNf1vMEw/s72-c/14122007030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-6818442101472155587</guid><pubDate>Sat, 20 Oct 2007 00:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-20T01:11:54.962+01:00</atom:updated><title>tenho medo...</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;today i'm so afraid...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i'm really afraid...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;today I need U...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;more than ever...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i need you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-6818442101472155587?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/10/tenho-medo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-5227432968984827849</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Oct 2007 19:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-07T11:06:01.961+01:00</atom:updated><title>Insónia V</title><description>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RwflJLIKGrI/AAAAAAAAACY/NIYD6wWDQf8/s1600-h/DSCN5305_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118311447298448050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RwflJLIKGrI/AAAAAAAAACY/NIYD6wWDQf8/s320/DSCN5305_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Enrolei o meu cabelo entre os dedos, vezes e vezes sem fim…&lt;br /&gt;Fechei a porta, sentei-me, baixei a cabeça e chorei a noite toda…&lt;br /&gt;Deixei a televisão ligada…&lt;br /&gt;Hoje não conseguia estar sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;Deitei-me.&lt;br /&gt;Dei infindáveis voltas naquele depressivo leito.&lt;br /&gt;A cheirar a ti.&lt;br /&gt;A minha pele chorava.&lt;br /&gt;A carne doía.&lt;br /&gt;O pensamento gritava.&lt;br /&gt;As horas passaram…&lt;br /&gt;Nem a campainha voltou a tocar..&lt;br /&gt;Nem o telemóvel disse “dorme bem”…&lt;br /&gt;Nem o meu triste rosto foi tocado&lt;br /&gt;Nem acarinhado&lt;br /&gt;Nem embalado…&lt;br /&gt;A televisão gritava mais alto que qualquer martelado pensamento…&lt;br /&gt;Esgoto-me em revolta…&lt;br /&gt;Torturo-me sozinha…&lt;br /&gt;Culpo-me.&lt;br /&gt;Uma&lt;br /&gt;Outra&lt;br /&gt;E&lt;br /&gt;Outra&lt;br /&gt;Vez&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Mas…&lt;br /&gt;QUERO-TE!&lt;br /&gt;Continuo a querer-te mesmo sendo&lt;br /&gt;triste&lt;br /&gt;injusto&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;desigual…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Ponho os fones…&lt;br /&gt;as notas do piano de yann tiersen começam a ecoar no meu cérebro…&lt;br /&gt;esta melancolia acalma-me…&lt;br /&gt;de repente tudo fica mais calmo…&lt;br /&gt;tudo começa a falar baixinho até por fim se calar…&lt;br /&gt;os pensamentos,&lt;br /&gt;a raiva,&lt;br /&gt;a revolta,&lt;br /&gt;a ausência de ti,&lt;br /&gt;a televisão…&lt;br /&gt;é dia.&lt;br /&gt;E finalmente…&lt;br /&gt;vou descansar um pouco.&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/19569761-5227432968984827849?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/10/enrolei-o-meu-cabelo-entre-os-dedos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RwflJLIKGrI/AAAAAAAAACY/NIYD6wWDQf8/s72-c/DSCN5305_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-59977686948427225</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Sep 2007 19:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-02T20:46:14.421+01:00</atom:updated><title>wish...</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;this is the first day of my last days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;built it up now take it apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;climbed up real high now fall down real far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no need for me to stay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the last thing left i just threw it away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i put my faith in god and my trust in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;now there's nothing more fucked up i could do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wish there was something real wish there was something true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wish there was something real in this world full of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i'm the one without a soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i'm the one with this big fucking hole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no new tale to tell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;twenty-six years on my way to hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;gotta listen to your big time hard line bad luck fist fuck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;don't think you're having all the fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you know me i hate everyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;i want to but i can't turn back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;but i want to but i can't turn back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wish there was something real wish there was something true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wish there was something real in this world full of youthis world full of you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;wish, linkinpark&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&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/19569761-59977686948427225?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/09/wish.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-7498510982023375706</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Sep 2007 19:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-02T20:26:49.136+01:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Morro e olho para o lado…&lt;br /&gt;Estúpidos fantoches felizes… de contorcidos sorrisos, disfarçados... Ocultam a corrosão do seu lado mau, desprezível… do seu lado negro e sujo e mutante, animal, horrível…&lt;br /&gt;Morro e observo…&lt;br /&gt;Imóvel a podridão de tudo o que se move à minha volta, e por cima de mim e do meu corpo, e me pisa e não me vê e não sente o cheiro da decomposição da minha carne morta e oca…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-7498510982023375706?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/09/morro-e-olho-para-o-lado-estpidos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-3308123168188643198</guid><pubDate>Thu, 30 Aug 2007 13:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-30T14:09:09.419+01:00</atom:updated><title>:::descrente...</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Chega de me arrastar por ti, de te implorar um pouco de algo… de te pedir que me ames... de implorar carinho... um olhar ou apenas uma palavra... chega!!! Não consigo mais suportar este tortuoso caminho, esta existência de um farrapo velho, roto, usado e sujo! Não consigo suportar mais esta insónia interminável…esta angustia, de não conseguir olhar para o espelho… de chorar lágrimas de sangue quando o enfrento… de me odiar apenas por existir e ser tão incapaz!&lt;br /&gt;Desprezo parece que é tudo a que tenho direito de tudo e de todos… até de mim própria…&lt;br /&gt;Cara auto-estima podre e de fachada… caída, nas pedras calçada… negra... como a minha alma… suja… como o meu interior…usado… como este farrapo humano em que me tornei…&lt;br /&gt;Chega… não consigo mais revolver-me por fora e por dentro… fechar os olhos e ter apenas pensamentos maus … não dormir durante horas e horas e horas… e quando por fim adormeço acordo novamente a chorar... a gritar… com medo de tudo o que me fere, com medo de tudo o que feri… com medo!!&lt;br /&gt;Chega… quero apenas um pouco de paz…&lt;br /&gt;Quero aprender a sorrir… a vencer… a lutar… a ser forte em vez de me estilhaçar com um simples sopro… quero respirar… erguer o olhar e acreditar em algo…&lt;br /&gt;Algo…&lt;br /&gt;Algo…&lt;br /&gt;Algo…&lt;br /&gt;Alguma coisa que não esta solidão… dor… tristeza interminável… algo apenas!&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/19569761-3308123168188643198?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/08/chega-de-me-arrastar-por-ti-de-te.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-8249412787200946586</guid><pubDate>Mon, 06 Aug 2007 01:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-06T02:21:18.365+01:00</atom:updated><title>:::Gothic</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrZ3LtF-INI/AAAAAAAAACQ/JcDqIHcpJP0/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095391071383199954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrZ3LtF-INI/AAAAAAAAACQ/JcDqIHcpJP0/s320/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Há duas noites…&lt;br /&gt;Duas noites passaram continuamente…&lt;br /&gt;Como uma só&lt;br /&gt;Olhos, dois olhos,&lt;br /&gt;Que não dormiram…&lt;br /&gt;Cansaço..&lt;br /&gt;De dois dias vividos de igual modo…&lt;br /&gt;Dores cruas…&lt;br /&gt;Duas, sufocam e torturam como agulhas finas…&lt;br /&gt;Ao espelho,&lt;br /&gt;Os dois eus espreitam-se, frente a frente,&lt;br /&gt;Um… pálido, mórbido e amedrontado ser&lt;br /&gt;O outro… disfarçando olheiras fundas, corpo cansado, pálido, mórbido e amedrontado.&lt;br /&gt;Traço riscos negros, dois,&lt;br /&gt;Nos humedecidos olhos, nos dois,&lt;br /&gt;Acentuo, já que não consigo mais esconder o quão mórbida e morta estou.&lt;br /&gt;Traços negros e grossos marcam e contornam os rasgados olhos…&lt;br /&gt;Pó branco atenua a palidez,&lt;br /&gt;As escavadas e profundas olheiras&lt;br /&gt;Assumo-me então… já que me não posso esconder, desaparecer, adormecer, ou simplesmente não existir…&lt;br /&gt;Saio para a rua e volto…&lt;br /&gt;Por entre silenciosos gritos de pânico,&lt;br /&gt;Sou mais uma vez mutilada por invisíveis fantasmas palpáveis…&lt;br /&gt;E quero tanto dormir…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há agora já três noites…&lt;br /&gt;Três noites que passaram como uma só..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-8249412787200946586?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/08/gothic.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrZ3LtF-INI/AAAAAAAAACQ/JcDqIHcpJP0/s72-c/2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-2012769268298401129</guid><pubDate>Fri, 03 Aug 2007 13:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-08-03T14:30:40.865+01:00</atom:updated><title>4n0th£r w4y t0 £xpr£ss my p41n</title><description>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrMtedF-IMI/AAAAAAAAACI/0IK3S2iL3sU/s1600-h/when_became_green.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094465604715159746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrMtedF-IMI/AAAAAAAAACI/0IK3S2iL3sU/s320/when_became_green.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You wake up crying in the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And you feel this pain inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You feel so lonely feel so weak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And you have no words to speak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There's no one to hold you tide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Another nightmare in this night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You just want someone beside you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But there's nothing you can do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I will take you by the hand and I show you wonderland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Is this the place where you can hide from the world that makes you cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There's no darkness there's no light you can see without your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You only feel a warm embrace that will last forever...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You open the window and cry in the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To the stars so far away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And you hope and pray tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For a wonderYou listen to your broken heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And you understand the words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is the night of changes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So you spread your wings to fly&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Blutengel, letra de "Wonderland"&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/19569761-2012769268298401129?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/08/4n0thr-w4y-t0-xprss-my-p41n.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RrMtedF-IMI/AAAAAAAAACI/0IK3S2iL3sU/s72-c/when_became_green.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-5023364779370301546</guid><pubDate>Tue, 26 Jun 2007 23:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-27T00:19:20.251+01:00</atom:updated><title>::(In)segura-me...</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não sei por onde passas,&lt;br /&gt;Que causas em outras pessoas,&lt;br /&gt;Questiono que talvez não seja apenas em mim que tocas…&lt;br /&gt;Provavelmente não é apenas a mim que queres,&lt;br /&gt;Se é que queres,&lt;br /&gt;Se alguma vez quiseste,&lt;br /&gt;Se ainda vais querer,&lt;br /&gt;Não sei…&lt;br /&gt;Nem sequer isso sei,&lt;br /&gt;Nem essa certeza tenho,&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei como me vês,&lt;br /&gt;Nem o que julgas, pensas, ou sentes,&lt;br /&gt;Ou se nada sentes…&lt;br /&gt;Não sei…&lt;br /&gt;Mas sei…&lt;br /&gt;que todas as noites&lt;br /&gt;este aperto no peito&lt;br /&gt;esta insegurança,&lt;br /&gt;este grito contido,&lt;br /&gt;me leva ao desespero&lt;br /&gt;e afirma a minha fraqueza…&lt;br /&gt;a minha inexistente auto-estima,&lt;br /&gt;que é reflectida sempre que espreito por algum espelho…&lt;br /&gt;Que queres tu?&lt;br /&gt;Vales isso que vês…&lt;br /&gt;Valho nada,&lt;br /&gt;Esse nada que me sufoca e é&lt;br /&gt;Ao mesmo tempo,&lt;br /&gt;a resposta para essas duvidas todas…&lt;br /&gt;Sem ego…&lt;br /&gt;Sem resposta…&lt;br /&gt;Sem te ter…&lt;br /&gt;Sem sentimento,&lt;br /&gt;Sem nada…&lt;br /&gt;Sou nada… cruel e eternamente nada…&lt;br /&gt;e tudo que o queria.. era nada ser…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Estou Insegura... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(in)segura-me... preciso-te!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-5023364779370301546?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/06/insegura-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-590014556268755444</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Jun 2007 01:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-13T02:59:28.498+01:00</atom:updated><title>talvez::::</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rm9PZ-WZewI/AAAAAAAAACA/3hO-kq39xp0/s1600-h/goth46.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075362612722105090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rm9PZ-WZewI/AAAAAAAAACA/3hO-kq39xp0/s320/goth46.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Talvez um dia…&lt;br /&gt;sentirás a pele rasgar-se por entre os teus poros, a arder por entre os teus poros, os ossos a rasgarem a tua pele e a furá-la, e a purgá-la, a picotá-la, esquiçando leves pontilhados de sangue… cada dolorosa e fina perfuração acordará, talvez um dia, o expoente máximo da miséria e solidão… a tortura, a loucura, a obsessão, a indiferença e a revolta nesse silêncio…&lt;br /&gt;talvez um dia sintas a dor, esta dor que sinto e sou incapaz explicar ou ver…&lt;br /&gt;silêncio… até quando?&lt;br /&gt;Talvez até um dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-590014556268755444?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/06/talvez.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rm9PZ-WZewI/AAAAAAAAACA/3hO-kq39xp0/s72-c/goth46.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-4415823081968843790</guid><pubDate>Sun, 03 Jun 2007 00:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-03T01:30:08.855+01:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Coleciono fantasmas que não são meus, mas que conheço e me procuram para me desenganar...&lt;br /&gt;Afinal quem me julguei eu?!&lt;br /&gt;misera alma perdida, no fio da navalha entre a loucura e o suicidio... contínuo desequilibrio.&lt;br /&gt;Afinal quem me julguei eu?!&lt;br /&gt;Fantasmas que não eram meus...&lt;br /&gt;Fantasmas e recordações por eles destruídas...&lt;br /&gt;Rasgaram-me a minúscula fonte de confiança que julguei ter,&lt;br /&gt;que julguei ser...&lt;br /&gt;Á noite sento-me na cama,&lt;br /&gt;abraço-me ás minhas pernas e encosto-me á parede,&lt;br /&gt;e assim permaneço... imóvel a ouvi-los...&lt;br /&gt;a ouvi-los destruir tudo em que acredito.&lt;br /&gt;E de nada servem lágrimas...&lt;br /&gt;Afinal quem me julguei eu?!&lt;br /&gt;Que mais teria eu que este silêncio e desespero?&lt;br /&gt;Que me poderia distinguir do resto?!&lt;br /&gt;Afinal nada... Afinal nunca foi nada!&lt;br /&gt;Afinal...&lt;br /&gt;quem me julguei eu?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-4415823081968843790?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/06/coleciono-fantasmas-que-no-so-meus-mas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-4602277259029840760</guid><pubDate>Fri, 25 May 2007 00:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-25T01:10:38.951+01:00</atom:updated><title>:fra(n)ca|mente::...</title><description>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rude e híbrido encantamento tortuoso… este que percorro descalça, cansada e despida…&lt;br /&gt;envolvida por trapos rasgados, violentamente desfiados, que bailam agora ao sabor deste forte vento que me empurra no sentido inverso…&lt;br /&gt;Aqui neste caminho austero que sigo…&lt;br /&gt;pousando lentamente os meus passos sobre vidros partidos, estridentes espinhos, afiadas lascas de madeira e pontiagudas pedras negras…&lt;br /&gt;continuando…&lt;br /&gt;como se tudo fosse igual a sempre…&lt;br /&gt;igual a ontem…&lt;br /&gt;igual a dia nenhum…&lt;br /&gt;igual a todos os dias e a nada igual…&lt;br /&gt;Continuo…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ignorantemente continuo…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;conscientemente de olhos fechados, e não querendo ver continuo…&lt;br /&gt;guiada por francamente nada…&lt;br /&gt;por uma exígua e inigualável fraca mente.&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/19569761-4602277259029840760?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/05/francamente.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-1279519257080642172</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 May 2007 22:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-03T23:46:01.308+01:00</atom:updated><title>...remoinhos:</title><description>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Textos intermináveis… enchem cadernos e folhas soltas, bocados de rasgados sentimentos interrompidos por um “bom dia...”, por um café ou por um cigarro que fumo sentada numa mesa sozinha no café da esquina enquanto espero uma rotina mecânica que me afasta deles… textos, obsessivas descrições e desabafos de pedaços de mim… prosas, poemas toscos, frases incompletas, palavras deixadas a meio enchem a caixa em que se compõe a minha anónima identidade!&lt;br /&gt;Tantas coisas por contar… outras tantas escondidas e por mostrar intercalam estes gritos mudos que necessito coleccionar.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez nunca acabem… talvez nunca consiga saciar esta sedenta sede de harmonia que busco a todo o instante dentro desta cabeça onde guardo turbilhões de pensamentos e sentimentos doridos difíceis de acalmar…&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/19569761-1279519257080642172?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/05/remoinhos.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-7595314723388963024</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 May 2007 23:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-02T00:51:10.735+01:00</atom:updated><title>incertezas...</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RjfSK4udjbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/VHoryUXFTHs/s1600-h/the_world_is_mine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059743790841826738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RjfSK4udjbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/VHoryUXFTHs/s400/the_world_is_mine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-7595314723388963024?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/05/incertezas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RjfSK4udjbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/VHoryUXFTHs/s72-c/the_world_is_mine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-4193627839010140602</guid><pubDate>Wed, 25 Apr 2007 01:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-25T02:59:07.384+01:00</atom:updated><title>...::...pieces:...:::...</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Ri61VIudjaI/AAAAAAAAABw/mgs9xsb7Tao/s1600-h/pieces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057178806307884450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Ri61VIudjaI/AAAAAAAAABw/mgs9xsb7Tao/s400/pieces.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Ri6yy4udjZI/AAAAAAAAABo/u-PqMciDuEs/s1600-h/fucking_insanity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057176018874109330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Ri6yy4udjZI/AAAAAAAAABo/u-PqMciDuEs/s400/fucking_insanity.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/19569761-4193627839010140602?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/pieces.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Ri61VIudjaI/AAAAAAAAABw/mgs9xsb7Tao/s72-c/pieces.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-3350346204769285651</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Apr 2007 15:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-21T17:04:09.479+01:00</atom:updated><title>:::No time to cry</title><description>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's just a feeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I get sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A feeling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I get frightened&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just like you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I get frightened too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;but it's...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for heartache&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to run and hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for breaking down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sometimes in the world as is you've&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Got to shake the hand that feeds you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's just like Adam says&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's not so hard to understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's just like always coming down on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Just like Jesus never came and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What did you expect to find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's just like always here again it's...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for heartache&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to run and hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for breaking down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Everything will be alright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Everything will turn out fine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Some nights I still can't sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And the voices pass with time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I keep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No time for tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No time to run and hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;No time to be afraid of fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I keep no time to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for heartache&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to run and hide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time for breaking down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;(no no no) No time to cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;No time to cry, Cradle of Filth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19569761-3350346204769285651?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/no-time-to-cry.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-4411329948850938314</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Apr 2007 00:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-21T02:07:14.569+01:00</atom:updated><title>|nsónia_IV</title><description>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055679811377067954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RiliAJc-d7I/AAAAAAAAABg/rYRV0b-xZL8/s400/ins%C3%B3nia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;que ódio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mais uma insónia me rouba o tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;outra noite passo revolvendo o meu avesso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;outra vez aquele medo, aquele desespero, me esmaga os ossos fazendo-os estalar, desmanchando-me em choros soluçados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;este medo, este pânico de tudo, esta fobia de mim mesma, assusta-me e fere a minha força, fragiliza o meu sorriso, o meu espectro de certezas... e sentimentos só meus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não consigo sequer adormecer, consumida por isto... por esta raiva e solidão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Abandonei-me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abandonei-me&lt;/strong&gt; propositadamente numa floresta de medos e fantasmas sombrios, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;abandonei-me&lt;/strong&gt; e esqueci-me de onde o fiz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sabia que me encontrariam, queria que o fizessem e me dessem a mão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;como sempre...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;mas não vieram, e eu fiquei aqui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não sei o caminho de volta, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;nunca precisei de o saber!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;não consigo dormir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;estou exausta de lutar contra mim, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;já nem consigo ter força para adormecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;já nem sei adormecer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abandonada...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abandonei-me...&lt;/strong&gt; tenho medo de mim...&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/19569761-4411329948850938314?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/nsniaiv.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RiliAJc-d7I/AAAAAAAAABg/rYRV0b-xZL8/s72-c/ins%C3%B3nia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-2377541155382626218</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Apr 2007 23:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-18T00:22:49.958+01:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Uma boneca de trapos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Não se parte se, cair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fizeste-me a alma em farrapos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bem: não se pode partir."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Fernado Pessoa&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/19569761-2377541155382626218?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/uma-boneca-de-trapos-no-se-parte-se.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-1299502786816939668</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Apr 2007 23:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-16T00:44:49.361+01:00</atom:updated><title>:::Incapacidade de expressão… sinto-me (tão) incapaz, mas…escrevo na mm!</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RiK4fPniLcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VuxVrZjmGOA/s1600-h/fallen.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053804578770922946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RiK4fPniLcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VuxVrZjmGOA/s400/fallen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“ o que sou para ti?”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;«Foda-se dóis-me… é tudo o que te quero e posso dizer…&lt;br /&gt;DÓIS-ME!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Dóis-me aqui dentro do peito!&lt;br /&gt;Dóis-me aqui neste aperto na garganta!&lt;br /&gt;Dóis-me neste espaço físico que nos separa!&lt;br /&gt;Dóis-me neste silêncio que nos une!&lt;br /&gt;neste toque da tua mão na minha pele, neste sabor da tua língua que ficou na minha boca, dóis-me nesta carícia que toca o meu cabelo, no teu empurrar da minha cabeça para o teu ombro, nos meus lábios a experimentar o desenho e o aroma do teu corpo, dóis-me no meu corpo, dói-me a falta que me fazes, quando me prendes com força nas tuas mãos, quando me mordes e me feres, quando me agarras e me feres ao largar-me. dóis-me nos traços do meu abraço, no sexo que não fizemos, no ritmo que não tivemos, no tempo que não tivemos… dóis-me naquele intervalo em que permanecemos… Dóis-me tanto quando o teu respirar fala mais alto que qualquer razão e eu gosto, quando o teu ofegante respirar é qualquer coisa não sentida, quando me tocas e me queres, quando me queres tanto que me assustas não me querendo… Dóis-me aqui nas marcas que me deixas-te… em todas elas me doís… em todas elas… deixo de pestanejar e adormeço uns segundos… e em todas elas vejo o teu corpo, vejo e sinto o teu corpo, vejo, sinto e toco a violência do teu corpo, deste desejo estranhamente assustador e indefinido… dóis-me na nudez do teu corpo…&lt;br /&gt;Dóis-me no calor que me deste, na evidente “irracionalidade lógica” que me causas, nesta loucura a que me levas quando estás (e não estás) por perto.&lt;br /&gt;dóis-me na mudez dos teus beijos, dos teus lábios e do teu olhar.&lt;br /&gt;foda-se… dói-me não me amares! É isso que me dói… mais que a ressaca que te tenho, mais que qualquer falta… mais que qualquer coisa…&lt;br /&gt;dóis-me por não me amares!&lt;br /&gt;dóis-me tanto por não me amares!&lt;br /&gt;não importa que não me saibas… que não entendas o que para ti sou, não interessa…&lt;br /&gt;não quero saber se sou a 10ª ou a 57ª … não me interessa!&lt;br /&gt;não quero que me compares…&lt;br /&gt;nem quero que me mintas…&lt;br /&gt;apenas quero que me digas o que sentes, porque isso sabes, claramente que isso sabes.&lt;br /&gt;e … meu amor…&lt;br /&gt;já sei, eu já sei que me não amas… mas ao menus diz-me que me sentes…&lt;br /&gt;diz-me que me sentes, ou sentis-te… não apenas com a carne, não apenas com um instinto, como uma reacção inesperada.. irracional… animal até…&lt;br /&gt;não quero saber o dia de amanhã… nem previsões meteorológicas, dispenso-as…&lt;br /&gt;porque o meu amanhã sou eu que o desenho… ou já o tenho tatuado na pele.. talvez, não o sei bem…&lt;br /&gt;não é isso que quero, não é nada disso que quero…&lt;br /&gt;não amor, não quero promessas vãs nem planos ocos… nunca te pediria isso.. conheço-te bem demais para tal… se o fizesses…deixarias de ser tu… não quero!&lt;br /&gt;quero apenas o que sentes… é tudo o que quero, preciso saber o que me sentes, a minha “pseudo-sanidade” pede-me isso…&lt;br /&gt;quero apenas o que me sentes…&lt;br /&gt;dá-me…&lt;br /&gt;dá-me e mostra-me apenas o que me sentes! »&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enquanto isto e tantas outras&lt;br /&gt;palavras,&lt;br /&gt;sentimentos,&lt;br /&gt;frases calculadas,&lt;br /&gt;monólogos completos pairavam na minha cabeça…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“ o que sou para ti?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Foi tudo o que consegui proferir…&lt;br /&gt;Apenas…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“ o que sou para ti?”,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;como ultimo fôlego, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ultimo trago de ar que me foge do peito… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;foi tudo o que ecoou nas paredes das casas…&lt;br /&gt;daquelas casas que se tornaram o mais incómodo dos nossos problemas…&lt;br /&gt;como uma cómoda e oportuna fuga de ambos…&lt;br /&gt;a um abismo sufocante…&lt;br /&gt;onde até as palavras falham…&lt;br /&gt;Foi tudo o que saiu da minha boca… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;como uma curta síntese de um discurso elaboradamente angustiante…&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/19569761-1299502786816939668?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/incapacidade-de-expresso-sinto-me-to.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/RiK4fPniLcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/VuxVrZjmGOA/s72-c/fallen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-1442832601322768336</guid><pubDate>Wed, 11 Apr 2007 15:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-11T17:00:37.986+01:00</atom:updated><title>B|_|N£K4 d£ Tr4p[]$</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rh0GGvniLbI/AAAAAAAAABI/QsXFWwFqXp4/s1600-h/Just_to_kiss_you____by_GothicLolitaBitch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052201069910830514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rh0GGvniLbI/AAAAAAAAABI/QsXFWwFqXp4/s400/Just_to_kiss_you____by_GothicLolitaBitch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Boneca de trapos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;desmembrada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;mal cosida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;mal tratada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;rasgada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;dorida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;ferida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;esquecida num canto qualquer escuro de uma casa abandonada, fria e suja e assombrada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Pedaço de alma sem corpo... perdido, louco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;entrego-te este corpo de trapos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;esta boneca de trapos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Dá-lhe vida!" &lt;/em&gt;disse alguém um dia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;e nasci...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;aliás.. ganhei vida... que nem a um nascimento tive direito...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Karma...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Karma este que crias tu... minha boneca de esfarrapados trapos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sofre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... com todos esses erros teus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... com todos esses erros!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Coração este... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... que carrego dentro deste corpo de esfarrapados trapos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... sente tanto, demais, sente sozinho, sente tudo, até coisas banais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... sente tudo... sozinho porque depois de te transformarem numa boneca de trapos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;nunca ninguém te sentirá mais... coração, só sentirás um ... o teu, sozinho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Corpo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;...usado, ferido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Não quero isto!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Corpo este meu, amado sem sentimento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Não quero...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Dúvidas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Perguntas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;... a única resposta... soprada pelo vento, Karma... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;talvez seja o meu Karma!&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/19569761-1442832601322768336?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/04/bnk4-d-tr4p.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C_mxQk6Nup8/Rh0GGvniLbI/AAAAAAAAABI/QsXFWwFqXp4/s72-c/Just_to_kiss_you____by_GothicLolitaBitch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19569761.post-5186034575442941884</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Mar 2007 01:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-21T02:02:46.220Z</atom:updated><title>::diálogo</title><description>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Inconsolada alma…&lt;br /&gt;Porque me choras?&lt;br /&gt;Quem te fez mal?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Porque te fizes-te mal então?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Porquê? Que te fizeram?&lt;br /&gt;Porque motivo te odeias assim tanto?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Oh alma minha… não me chores assim…&lt;br /&gt;Respira fundo… fala comigo, diz-me…&lt;br /&gt;O que te atormenta minha frágil alma?&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Se te faz sofrer … porque escolhes-te este caminho?&lt;br /&gt;sabes… o mundo não é perfeito, as pessoas não são perfeitas…&lt;br /&gt;Se o escolheste … foi porque achas-te que este era o caminho mais certo…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei… mas ninguém as tem… alma minha&lt;br /&gt;Certezas ninguém as tem!! Podes chorar-me…&lt;br /&gt;Encosta-te aqui no meu ombro…&lt;br /&gt;Mas não as há…&lt;br /&gt;Certezas… não as há…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;É normal teres medo… respira fundo…&lt;br /&gt;Um dia vai passar…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei… eu sei que sozinha, assim mais sozinha dói mais…&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei… mas tens aqui o meu ombro…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Provavelmente não te chegará…&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que tu minha alma não estarás completa…&lt;br /&gt;Mas não chores desse modo…&lt;br /&gt;O mundo é assim imperfeito…&lt;br /&gt;Mas… pensa… ao menos ainda estou contigo…&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Sim… por enquanto… sim por enquanto.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda não me matas-te… ainda és também imperfeita…&lt;br /&gt;Mas assim…&lt;br /&gt;Faltando-te a coragem… ainda te posso servir (tentar servir) de algum consolo…&lt;br /&gt;Até um dia…&lt;br /&gt;Oh alma minha… acho que és a única coisa que amo (controversamente).&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei… queres-me …tentas-me matar…&lt;br /&gt;Mas amo-te na mesma… porque tu és a única coisa verdadeiramente minha…&lt;br /&gt;Tu…&lt;br /&gt;Posso dizê-lo…&lt;br /&gt;És minha! Talvez a única coisa minha!!&lt;br /&gt;És minha!&lt;br /&gt;És a minha alma!!&lt;br /&gt;E amo-te porque és minha…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ass:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;o teu corpo&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/19569761-5186034575442941884?l=slice-of-soul.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://slice-of-soul.blogspot.com/2007/03/dilogo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (slice_of_soul)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>