<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440</id><updated>2009-10-13T03:39:30.490-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Kowalski</title><subtitle type='html'>Circuitos magnéticos imaginários</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>148</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-3187228873634205699</id><published>2008-07-07T15:59:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:26:44.979-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Buenos Aires Part 1</title><content type='html'>Delícia viajar!! Apesar de eu sempre ficar um tempo presa em aeroportos, no momento estou no movimentadíssimo aeroporto de Buenos Aires, gosto dessa atmosfera de ficar entre dois lugares. Nao estou mais no lugar de partida mas também nao cheguei ao meu destino. Mais ou menos como anda minha vida. Meio termo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-3187228873634205699?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/3187228873634205699/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=3187228873634205699' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3187228873634205699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3187228873634205699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/buenos-aires-part-1.html' title='Buenos Aires Part 1'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-3207081075407645063</id><published>2008-08-27T22:33:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:21:29.720-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O futuro eh agora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e agora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e agora...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-3207081075407645063?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/3207081075407645063/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=3207081075407645063' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3207081075407645063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3207081075407645063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-futuro-eh-agora-e-agora.html' title=''/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-7139047947926677551</id><published>2008-11-10T12:30:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T12:30:43.271-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eu juro que levo teus olhos castanhos comigo.&lt;br /&gt;te amo&lt;br /&gt;te amo&lt;br /&gt;seu bobalhão&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-7139047947926677551?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/7139047947926677551/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=7139047947926677551' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7139047947926677551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7139047947926677551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/11/eu-juro-que-levo-teus-olhos-castanhos.html' title=''/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-6450156125897858274</id><published>2008-10-10T23:12:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T23:16:09.236-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tao Facil</title><content type='html'>deixe estar essa convenção terrorista, deixe-me ser a primeira opção&lt;br /&gt;e compor sinfonias nos teus ombros sem tragédia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your girl if you say it's a gift&lt;br /&gt;and you give me some more of your drug&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your pet if you say it's gift&lt;br /&gt;cause I'm tired of whys, choking on whys&lt;br /&gt;just need a little because, because...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-6450156125897858274?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/6450156125897858274/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=6450156125897858274' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6450156125897858274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6450156125897858274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/10/tao-facil.html' title='Tao Facil'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-7569021078232569379</id><published>2008-09-21T16:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T16:44:46.045-03:00</updated><title type='text'>letter to nobody</title><content type='html'>"entre tantas bobagens, promessas e mentiras momentaneamente verdadeiras, eu fico...por estar estar em silencio contigo, pelo teu silencio e por nele encontrar a verdade absoluta."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh estranho, principalmente pra mim, não se importar com o resultado de uma acao alheia..pensei isso hoje, mas foram dois segundos, no tres eu ja tava me importando afu. hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-7569021078232569379?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/7569021078232569379/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=7569021078232569379' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7569021078232569379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7569021078232569379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/09/letter-to-nobody.html' title='letter to nobody'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-8338383843495067541</id><published>2008-09-14T03:57:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T03:58:48.048-03:00</updated><title type='text'>beijos</title><content type='html'>eu nego, eu vou negar...soh por hoje, por agora.&lt;br /&gt;eu e mim...tamo tri bem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-8338383843495067541?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/8338383843495067541/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=8338383843495067541' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8338383843495067541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8338383843495067541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/09/beijos.html' title='beijos'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-8109171577039684987</id><published>2008-09-09T20:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T20:04:52.721-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Recado Final</title><content type='html'>"Sabe qual meu sonho secreto? Que um dia você perceba que poderia ter aproveitado melhor a minha companhia. Que um dia imagine o quanto teria sido ótimo estar ao meu lado, mesmo quando eu estava gripada. No entanto, sei que você está a cada dia que passa mais fugido, e me limito a surpreender-me com as circunstâncias da vida que me levaram a viver esse papel: o da mulher que quer mais um pouquinho. Constrange-me existir nesse personagem Chico Buarque, dolorida, bonita sendo assim, meio tonta, meio insistente, até meio chata. Nunca precisei aborrecer ninguém antes, então atuo por instinto, cansando-me facilmente. E que fique claro que não é por estar você dessa forma, tão esquivo, que o desejo tanto. Desejo-o porque desejo. Estúpida. Latina. Bethânia. Ainda creio que você, quando eu menos esperar, possa me chegar com um verso em atitude."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks orkut de amigos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-8109171577039684987?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/8109171577039684987/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=8109171577039684987' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8109171577039684987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8109171577039684987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/09/recado-final.html' title='Recado Final'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-7621066792990206927</id><published>2008-09-09T01:32:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T01:41:57.895-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eu vou cometer um erro, vou fazer isso de propósito. Vou perder meu tempo porque estou sendo burra até agora e arranhando a superfície. O que eu procuro é meu.&lt;br /&gt;E quando o dia chegar e eu olhar para trás, e de fato me diverti atrapalhando tudo o que eu consegui e evitei. Eu corri quando eles falavam para eu não correr, mas é claro, me diverti.&lt;br /&gt;Então eu vou ferrar com tudo de novo, fazer outro desvio, despavimentar meu caminho.&lt;br /&gt;E se você quiser que faça sentido, por que esta olhando pra mim? eu não sou boa de cálculo.&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu procurar meu caminho de volta, o fato 'e que talvez eu decida ficar, ou não.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu adquiri um certo gosto por um erro bem feito.&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero errar, porque eu não posso cometer um erro?&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou sempre fazendo o que acho que devo.&lt;br /&gt;Quase sempre fazendo o bem a todos&lt;br /&gt;Por que?&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero fazer o certo? é claro, mas, realmente quero me forçar a isso?&lt;br /&gt;Claro que nao!&lt;br /&gt;Eu adquri um certo gosto por um erro bem feito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem feito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-7621066792990206927?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/7621066792990206927/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=7621066792990206927' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7621066792990206927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7621066792990206927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/09/eu-vou-cometer-um-erro-vou-fazer-isso.html' title=''/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-1809382283709658318</id><published>2008-09-04T23:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T23:40:38.002-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Moonchild</title><content type='html'>Chamam-na &lt;em&gt;filha da lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Dançando na quietude de um rio&lt;br /&gt;Solitária filha da lua&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando na sombra de um vimeiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falando para as árvores&lt;br /&gt;De estranhas espirais&lt;br /&gt;Dormindo nos degraus de uma fonte&lt;br /&gt;Agitando a magia para a canção dos pássaros noturnos&lt;br /&gt;Esperando pelo sol da montanha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é uma filha da lua&lt;br /&gt;Juntando as flores em um jardim&lt;br /&gt;Amável filha da lua&lt;br /&gt;Flutuando pelos ecos das horas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Navegando sobre o vento&lt;br /&gt;Em seu lácteo vestido&lt;br /&gt;Deixando circulares pedras sobre o relógio de sol&lt;br /&gt;Jogando esconde-esconde&lt;br /&gt;Com os fantasmas do entardecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Esperando um sorriso do filho do sol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-1809382283709658318?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/1809382283709658318/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=1809382283709658318' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1809382283709658318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1809382283709658318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/09/moonchild.html' title='Moonchild'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-3652782736025979387</id><published>2008-08-29T11:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T12:00:57.895-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lizard King</title><content type='html'>"All poems have wolves in them&lt;br /&gt; all but one&lt;br /&gt; the most beautiful one of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She dances in a ring of fire&lt;br /&gt; and throws off the challenge&lt;br /&gt; with a shrug."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'por favor, goste de mim'&lt;br /&gt; disse a pequena&lt;br /&gt; o que posso fazer?&lt;br /&gt; eu a amo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim Morrison&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-3652782736025979387?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/3652782736025979387/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=3652782736025979387' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3652782736025979387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/3652782736025979387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/lizard-king.html' title='Lizard King'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-8238118424064833100</id><published>2008-08-25T21:40:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T21:49:57.713-03:00</updated><title type='text'>get together one more time...</title><content type='html'>The time you ran was too insane we'll meet again, we'll meet again...&lt;br /&gt;sao poucas as coisas que fazem tanto sentido quanto&lt;br /&gt;ouvir a voz do pai, sentir o toque do sabio passaro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu fecho os olhos e escuto o som do escuro&lt;br /&gt;ele me fala sore as cadeias de outrora&lt;br /&gt;ele me mostra o caminho ate o topo, o topo do morro de paz e silencio que procuro.&lt;br /&gt;as vezes sinto o gosto das lagrimas alheias que matam a minha sede de dor&lt;br /&gt;eu tenho sede de dor e fome de morte.&lt;br /&gt;eu sinto falta do sofrimento inexistente em minhas veias, eu sou uma mentira e vivo sublime nela. eu nao aceito e nao creio na descrenca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come on baby take a chance with us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-8238118424064833100?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/8238118424064833100/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=8238118424064833100' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8238118424064833100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8238118424064833100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/get-together-one-more-time.html' title='get together one more time...'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-8340992755830668793</id><published>2008-08-24T21:09:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T21:21:56.861-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadowboxer</title><content type='html'>queria uma válvula para libertar as cordas vocais e falar, falar, falar e dizer e cantar tudo que eu penso e escuto. queria uma chave pra dentro da tua mente. ou um portal de volta ao passado. não, não quero voltar, quero ir pra frente - la onde aqueles passarinhos não cantam as três e meia da manha, onde o meu jardim secreto tem uma portinha de madeira bem pequenina, escondida por trepadeiras, o portal secreto, passagem de ida para o teu peito - grandes árvores fazem sombra para minha pele descascada, quebrada, enrugada, abetumada. mas eu me encanto com a tua displicência e convicção ao tentar me dizer as tuas verdades, admiro o jeito com que tu tenta me analisar através de uma simples frase, adormeço pensando na tua simplicidade. mas veja bem, eu sei que essa simplicidade eh extremamente complexa e isso se mostra na tua figura. talvez tu não acredite que grandes segredos e fantasmas se escondem em baixo de um pano preto chamado otimismo! mas mais uma vez eu não consigo explicar porque não tenho essa válvula liberando meus verbos e então eu me calo e sorrio. como sempre. o uso de personagens e historias se torna necessário neste momento de demonstração, apresentação ou ilustração. eu escrevo muito melhor do que falo e falo muito mais do que escrevo. presta atenção. vem comigo. só desta vez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-8340992755830668793?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/8340992755830668793/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=8340992755830668793' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8340992755830668793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8340992755830668793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/shadowboxer.html' title='Shadowboxer'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-7619208771967538444</id><published>2008-08-21T18:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T18:41:31.709-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Garden</title><content type='html'>She'll let you in her house&lt;br /&gt;If you come knockin' late at night&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you in her mouth&lt;br /&gt;If the words you say are right&lt;br /&gt;If you pay the price&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you deep inside&lt;br /&gt;But there's a secret garden she hides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you in her car&lt;br /&gt;To go drivin' 'round&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you into the parts of herself&lt;br /&gt;That'll bring you down&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you in her heart&lt;br /&gt;If you got a hammer and a vise&lt;br /&gt;But into her secret garden, don't think twice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've gone a million miles&lt;br /&gt;How far'd you get&lt;br /&gt;To that place where you can't remember&lt;br /&gt;And you can't forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'll lead you down a path&lt;br /&gt;There'll be tenderness in the air&lt;br /&gt;She'll let you come just far enough&lt;br /&gt;So you know she's really there&lt;br /&gt;She'll look at you and smile&lt;br /&gt;And her eyes will say&lt;br /&gt;She's got a secret garden&lt;br /&gt;Where everything you want&lt;br /&gt;Where everything you need&lt;br /&gt;Will always stay&lt;br /&gt;A million miles away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce Springsteen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-7619208771967538444?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/7619208771967538444/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=7619208771967538444' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7619208771967538444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7619208771967538444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/secret-garden.html' title='Secret Garden'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-4852705898529278141</id><published>2008-08-18T00:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T00:27:43.086-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Be brave young sargent!</title><content type='html'>ai meu deus quase postei Morning Theft pela quarta vez. desisti. faz um sentido totalmente diferente toda vez e, ao menos que eu me explicasse, nao daria pra entender. mas quem quer entender nao eh mesmo? eu quero. sempre. me da uma agonia pensar, imaginar e nao ter. mas isso eh tao obvio. vou parar de escrever pra sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mentira. logico. nao consigo. apesar do pesares eu fico tao encantada com a forma que ele fala as coisas corretas e faz questao de ser gentil. bons homens esses. nao conheco muitos, ja conheci. agora eles se foram depois de me ver. mas tambem, ninguem enxerga nada. nem eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as horas vao me perseguindo e as lembrancas nao me deixam dormir. eu sou uma irresponsavel inconsequente mas super original. (sim, eu falo e escrevo super. e nao acho gay). os momentos de lucidez vao e vem. e quando vem nao duram, eu nao deixo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas eh inutil. sabe o que eh inutil? eh. bem isso. a poesia cansou de esperar, agora eh sao soh palavras envoltas por pensamentos o que? inuteis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-4852705898529278141?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/4852705898529278141/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=4852705898529278141' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/4852705898529278141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/4852705898529278141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/be-brave-young-sargent.html' title='Be brave young sargent!'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-9113141091630265887</id><published>2008-08-12T00:25:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T00:42:09.384-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Buffallo 66</title><content type='html'>" Billy se desvencilha de Layla e levanta da cama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Onde tu ta indo ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- [ Zipper Zips ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu soh vou pegar um cafe. Quer alguma coisa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sim, pode trazer um chocolate quente?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Okay, Eu pego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Quando tu volta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ah, sei la, uns cinco minutos.Como assim? Eu ja volto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu soh sinto que tu nao vai voltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu acabei de dizer que eu ja volto. Eu volto em, uh, em cinco minutes. Vou pegar um chocolate quente pra ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu realmente gosto de ti. Vou ficar muito triste se tu nao voltar, a nao ser que tu me diga. Se tu nao vai voltar me diz. Nao mente pra mim. Vai voltar ou nao?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Se tu nao quiser que eu va eu nao vou, ta bom? Nao vou pegar o chocolate quente. - A gente podia soh--- Se tu quer pegar um cafe, vai pegar um cafe. Soh volta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu te falei que eu volto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posso ganhar um beijo de despedida?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nao, nao comeca-- Por favor--nao comeca com problemas. Nao--nao comeca--nao comeca com esse mal. Eu nao disse que te daria um beijo, eu disse que te daria um chocolate quente, ta bom? Entao eu to indo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Pode ser um abraco entao?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ah meu, fala serio. Um aperto de maos ta legal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Okay. Lembra que tu prometeu voltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Prometo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Billy. Eu soh quero que tu saiba... Eu acho... tu eh o cara mais doce do mundo... e o mais lindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu te amo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-[porta bate]. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vincent Gallo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-9113141091630265887?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/9113141091630265887/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=9113141091630265887' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/9113141091630265887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/9113141091630265887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/buffallo-66.html' title='Buffallo 66'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-2778001597091943914</id><published>2008-08-05T13:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T13:44:11.609-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A mulher mais linda da cidade</title><content type='html'>"...corpo flexivel, estranho, sinuoso que nem cobra e fogoso com os olhos: um fogareu vivo ambulante. Espirito impaciente para romper o molde incapaz de rete-lo. Os cabelos pretos, longos e sedosos, ondulavam e balancavam ao andar. Sempre muito animada ou entao deprimida.&lt;br /&gt;Segundo alguns, era louca. Opiniao de apaticos que jamais poderiam compreende-la. E passava a vida a dancar, a namorar e a beijar. Mas, salvo a raras excecoes, na hora H sempre encontrava forma de sumir e deixar todo mundo na mao.&lt;br /&gt;A mentalidade eh que simplesmente destoava das demais: nada tinha de pratica.&lt;br /&gt;Guardava, inclusive, uma cicatriz indelevel na face esquerda, que em vez de empanar-lhe a beleza so servia para realca-la."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charles Bukowski&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-2778001597091943914?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/2778001597091943914/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=2778001597091943914' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/2778001597091943914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/2778001597091943914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/08/mulher-mais-linda-da-cidade.html' title='A mulher mais linda da cidade'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-1832394131786882497</id><published>2008-07-30T13:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T13:31:20.404-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Quando alegram-se os anjos, libertam-se os loucos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-1832394131786882497?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/1832394131786882497/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=1832394131786882497' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1832394131786882497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1832394131786882497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/quando-alegram-se-os-anjos-libertam-se.html' title=''/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-6196706837247781465</id><published>2008-07-28T10:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T11:01:29.982-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Buenos Aires Parte 2</title><content type='html'>Aca estou novamente, nesse cyber maluco, mas pelo menos o louco ta ouvindo Doors: "the west is the beeest...get here and we'll do the rest...the blue bus is calling us, driver where are u taking us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, ferias divertidas, minha mamae eh a melhor, e agora estou enfeiticada pelos maravilhosos deuses de ebano que encontrei pela minha jornada...oh ceus, ateh sonho com eles, coisa total obsessiva...meu voo atrasou, o que foi muito bom pois, assim estou aqui a apenas tres horas de ir para casa ao inves de cinco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, esperar eh minha sina - assim como esses teclados sem acento!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on baby take a chance with us!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-6196706837247781465?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/6196706837247781465/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=6196706837247781465' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6196706837247781465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6196706837247781465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/buenos-aires-parte-2.html' title='Buenos Aires Parte 2'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-7216256961386155153</id><published>2008-07-21T03:12:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T03:29:44.400-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Filosofando com o velho Buk</title><content type='html'>"A verdade é que somos &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;umas monstruosidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Se pudéssemos nos ver de verdade, saberíamos como somos ridículos com nossos intestinos retorcidos pelos quais deslizam lentamente as fezes... enquanto nos olhamos nos olhos e dizemos: &lt;strong&gt;'Te amo'&lt;/strong&gt;. Fazemos e produzimos uma porção de porcarias, mas não peidamos perto de uma pessoa. Tudo tem um fio cômico."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'estranho: volta e meia deixar de foder é melhor que foder. apesar que posso estar enganado. em geral dizem que estou.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"para linda king que me proporcionou e um dia há de me privar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Levo a morte em meu bolso esquerdo. Ás vezes, tiro-a do bolso e falo com ela : "&lt;em&gt;Oi, Gata como vai? Quando virá me buscar? Vou estar pronto."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Essa &lt;strong&gt;loucura &lt;/strong&gt;roubada que não desejo a ninguém a não ser a mim mesmo &lt;strong&gt;amém&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O &lt;em&gt;'amor&lt;/em&gt;' é algo para o qual você precisa de penicilina.'&lt;em&gt;Amar&lt;/em&gt;' é dar uma flor para um homem nú com piolhos no cabelo enquanto sua mãe esta sentada em casa com o coração partido.Você &lt;em&gt;'ama'&lt;/em&gt; os estranhos, não os pais."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; amor&lt;/span&gt; é cheio de significados. O &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;sexo &lt;/span&gt;é significativo por si só"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Que anos penosos foram aqueles, ter a vontade e a nececidade de viver, mas não a habilidade."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Crianças foram feitas para serem olhadas, não ouvidas"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Como pode dizer que ama uma pessoa quando há dez mil outras no mundo que você amaria mais se conhecesse?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nenhuma dor significa o fim da sensibilidade; cada uma de nossas alegrias é uma barganha com o diabo ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...sentia-me contente por não estar apaixonado, por não estar contente com o mundo. Gosto de estar em desacordo com tudo. As pessoas apaixonadas tornam-se muitas vezes susceptíveis, perigosas. Perdem o sentido da realidade. Perdem o senso de humor. Tornam-se nervosas, psicóticas, chatas. Tornam-se, mesmo, assassinas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...e amor, pensando bem, não passa de uma espécie de palavrão."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Intelectual é aquele que diz uma coisa simples de um jeito complicado. Artista é quem diz uma coisa complicada de um jeito simples."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Acho que viver com mulheres loucas faz bem para a espinha"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;"...&lt;br /&gt;e então você se foi me deixando aqui num quarto com uma cortina rasgada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e o Idílio de Siegfried tocando no radinho vermelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e você se foi tão rápido &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;tão subitamente quanto quando você veio &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e quando eu estava limpando seu rosto e lábios &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;você abriu os maiores olhos que eu já tinha visto e disse "eu devia saber que era você" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e me reconheceu mas não por muito tempo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e um homem velho com pernas brancas e finas na cama ao lado dizia, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;"eu não quero morrer," e seu sangue veio de novo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e eu o aparei com as mãos em concha tudo o que ficou das noites e dos dias também, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e o homem velho ainda estava vivo mas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;você não estava, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;nós não estamos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e você foi como você veio, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;você me deixou tão rápido &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;você já tinha me deixado várias vezes antes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;quando eu pensava que isso me destruiria mas não &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e você sempre voltava. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;agora eu desliguei o rádio vermelho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e alguém no apartamento ao lado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;bate uma porta a sentença final: eu não vou te encontrar na rua &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;o telefone não vai tocar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e nenhum movimento vai me deixar em paz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;não basta que haja várias mortes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e que esta não seja a primeira; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;não basta que eu viva mais muitos dias, talvez até muitos anos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;não basta. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;o telefone é como um bicho morto que não vai falar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;e quando falar de novo será sempre a voz errada agora. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;antes eu esperava e você sempre entrava porta adentro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;agora você vai esperar por mim."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...quando o amor se transforma num comando, o odio pode transforma-se num prazer...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charles Bukowski&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-7216256961386155153?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/7216256961386155153/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=7216256961386155153' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7216256961386155153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/7216256961386155153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/filosofando-com-o-velho-buk.html' title='Filosofando com o velho Buk'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-2898889227808600454</id><published>2008-07-19T16:09:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T16:12:22.924-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonhos de Caetano</title><content type='html'>Tudo era apenas brincadeira&lt;br /&gt;E foi crescendo, crescendo, me absorvendo&lt;br /&gt;E de repente eu me vi assim&lt;br /&gt;Completamente seu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vi a minha força amarrada no seu passo&lt;br /&gt;Vi que sem você não há caminho, não me acho&lt;br /&gt;Vi um grande amor gritar dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;Como eu sonhei um dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando a canção se fez mais clara e mais sentida&lt;br /&gt;Quando a poesia realmente fez folia em minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Você veio me falar dessa paixão inesperada&lt;br /&gt;Por outra pessoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas não tem revolta não&lt;br /&gt;Eu só quero que você me encontre&lt;br /&gt;Saudade até que é bom&lt;br /&gt;É melhor que caminhar vazio&lt;br /&gt;A esperança é um dom&lt;br /&gt;Que eu tenho em mim,&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho sim&lt;br /&gt;Não tem desespero não&lt;br /&gt;Você me ensinou milhões de coisas&lt;br /&gt;Tenho um sonho em minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã será um novo dia&lt;br /&gt;Certamente eu vou ser mais feliz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;com certeza.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-2898889227808600454?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/2898889227808600454/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=2898889227808600454' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/2898889227808600454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/2898889227808600454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/sonhos-de-caetano.html' title='Sonhos de Caetano'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-555259747136020566</id><published>2008-07-18T03:17:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T03:23:21.207-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor nos Tempos de Colera</title><content type='html'>"Pense no amor como um estado de graca.&lt;br /&gt;  Sem sentido para coisa alguma.&lt;br /&gt;  De alfa ate omega.&lt;br /&gt;  Como o fim em si mesmo.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;  ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Amor é tudo aquilo que fazemos pelados.&lt;br /&gt;  Da cintura para cima, amor espiritual.&lt;br /&gt;  Da cintura para baixo, amor carnal.&lt;br /&gt;  Amor dividido."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-555259747136020566?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/555259747136020566/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=555259747136020566' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/555259747136020566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/555259747136020566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/amor-nos-tempos-de-colera.html' title='Amor nos Tempos de Colera'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-8122216010746503781</id><published>2008-07-15T02:05:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T21:20:52.226-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parting Gift</title><content type='html'>I opened my eyes&lt;br /&gt;While you were kissing me once more than once&lt;br /&gt;And you looked as sincere as a dog&lt;br /&gt;Just as sincere as a dog does,&lt;br /&gt;When it's the food on your lips with which it's in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet you could never tell&lt;br /&gt;That I knew you didn't know me that well&lt;br /&gt;It is my fault you see&lt;br /&gt;You never learned that much from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you silly, stupid pastime of mine&lt;br /&gt;You were always good for a rhyme&lt;br /&gt;And from the first to the last time&lt;br /&gt;The signs says 'stop'&lt;br /&gt;But we went on whole-hearted it ended bad&lt;br /&gt;But I love what we started&lt;br /&gt;They said 'stop'&lt;br /&gt;But we went on whole-hearted it ended bad&lt;br /&gt;But I love what we started&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took off my glasses&lt;br /&gt;While you were yelling at me once more than once&lt;br /&gt;So's not to see you see me react&lt;br /&gt;Should've put 'em, should've put 'em on again&lt;br /&gt;So I could see you see me sincerely yelling back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet your fortressed face&lt;br /&gt;Belied your fort of lace&lt;br /&gt;It is by the grace of me&lt;br /&gt;You never learned what I could see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you silly, stupid pastime of mine&lt;br /&gt;You were always good for a rhyme&lt;br /&gt;And from the first to all the last time&lt;br /&gt;All the signs says 'stop'&lt;br /&gt;But we went on whole-hearted it ended bad&lt;br /&gt;But I love what we started&lt;br /&gt;They said 'stop'&lt;br /&gt;But we went on whole-hearted it ended bad&lt;br /&gt;But I love what we started&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiona Apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSedNthxokQ"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-8122216010746503781?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/8122216010746503781/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=8122216010746503781' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8122216010746503781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/8122216010746503781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='Parting Gift'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-6940041538133202433</id><published>2008-07-14T18:34:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T21:12:57.673-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not there</title><content type='html'>....pra morar em algum lugar onde ser alguem eh ser ninguem e todo mundo, por que na &lt;strong&gt;verdade&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;fingir&lt;/em&gt; tem tanto a proporcionar...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e a gente nasce &lt;em&gt;anyway&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-6940041538133202433?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/6940041538133202433/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=6940041538133202433' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6940041538133202433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/6940041538133202433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-not-there.html' title='I&apos;m not there'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-4625846923830248287</id><published>2008-07-11T01:50:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T01:50:30.444-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lembrancas tem cheiro, sabor, cor e musica&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-4625846923830248287?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/4625846923830248287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=4625846923830248287' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/4625846923830248287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/4625846923830248287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/lembrancas-tem-cheiro-sabor-cor-e.html' title=''/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1557208967079948440.post-1296800795897070500</id><published>2008-07-10T22:48:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T22:50:11.034-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, but it's better if you do!</title><content type='html'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgbRdo79omI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxA8VJvirXI&amp;feature=related&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1557208967079948440-1296800795897070500?l=marikowalski.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/feeds/1296800795897070500/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1557208967079948440&amp;postID=1296800795897070500' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1296800795897070500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1557208967079948440/posts/default/1296800795897070500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marikowalski.blogspot.com/2008/07/lying-is-most-fun-girl-can-have-without.html' title='Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, but it&apos;s better if you do!'/><author><name>miss_lioncourt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09114703803591120514</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='04697697455692647920'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>