<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512</id><updated>2011-07-29T06:29:56.279+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing with Myself</title><subtitle type='html'>Oh dancing with myself
Well there's nothing to lose
And there's nothing to prove
I'll be dancing with myself</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>201</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3586608178302465561</id><published>2009-09-09T00:23:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T00:26:09.875+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hero by Regina Spektor</title><content type='html'>He never, ever saw it&lt;br /&gt;Coming at all&lt;br /&gt;It's alright, it's al-&lt;br /&gt;-right, it's al-&lt;br /&gt;-right, it's al-&lt;br /&gt;-right, it's al-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, open wide, here comes&lt;br /&gt;Original sin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Power to the people&lt;br /&gt;We don't want it&lt;br /&gt;We want pleasure&lt;br /&gt;And the TVs try to rape us&lt;br /&gt;And I guess that they're succeeding&lt;br /&gt;And we're going to these meetings&lt;br /&gt;But we're not doing any meeting&lt;br /&gt;And we're trying to be faithful, but we're&lt;br /&gt;Cheating, cheating, cheating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the hero of the story&lt;br /&gt;Don't need to be saved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one's got it all&lt;br /&gt;No one's got it all&lt;br /&gt;No one's got it a-a-all&lt;br /&gt;All, all, all, all, all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3586608178302465561?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3586608178302465561/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3586608178302465561' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3586608178302465561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3586608178302465561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2009/09/hero-by-regina-spektor.html' title='Hero by Regina Spektor'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4666750317226046663</id><published>2009-08-02T21:59:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T22:15:24.241+02:00</updated><title type='text'>'I am alone,' said Orlando, aloud since there was no one to hear.</title><content type='html'>"That silence is more profound after noise still wants the confirmation of&lt;br /&gt;science. But that loneliness is more apparent directly after one has been&lt;br /&gt;made love to, many women would take their oath. As the sound of the&lt;br /&gt;Archduke's chariot wheels died away, Orlando felt drawing further from&lt;br /&gt;her and further from her an Archduke (she did not mind that), a fortune&lt;br /&gt;(she did not mind that), a title (she did not mind that), the safety and&lt;br /&gt;circumstance of married life (she did not mind that), but life she heard&lt;br /&gt;going from her, and a lover. 'Life and a lover,' she murmured; and going&lt;br /&gt;to her writing-table she dipped her pen in the ink and wrote:"&lt;br /&gt;Orlando, Virgini Woolf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(uhu, nao tive q digitar tudo pq o livro existe online, &lt;a href="http://www.gutenberg.net.au/ebooks02/0200331.txt"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assisti o Diabo Veste Prada no aviao, e achei o final muito estranho. Nada contra um final que meio q da tudo errado (eu fiquei com bastante peninha do bichinha) mas pelo q eu senti então a protagonista vai se mudar pra outro canto pela carreira do namorado, e lá ele vai trabalhar ate altas horas e tudo mais, q nem ela qnd trabalhava na revista, basicamente apenas trocando de papeis, e sendo aceitável, não só porque agora é o namorado tendo uma carreira, mas tmb como ninguém nunca se toca que a superficialidade de ambos os meios (culinária e moda) é idêntica. Nossas necessidades basicas são de se alimentar e de nos vestir/aquecer, e por sermos humanos criamos uma cultura de prazer em volta disso, para experimentarmos coisas gostosas e vestimo coisas bonitas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que a unica coisa que se pode dizer a favor da culinaria nisso, eh q existe uma diferenca obvia entre comer saudavel ou nao. Mas acho que ateh aih ninguem nega que a nossa vida fica melhor quando nos vestimos do modo que desejamos, soh nao eh tao facil de provar cientificamente. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostei de como o filme mostra bem os dois lados da moda, da paixão muito real das pessoas que trabalham com isso, e não ter feito nenhum personagem ultra superficial tipo o estereotipo que fazemos das pessoas que se importam com moda (e me inclua nesse grupo).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora soh pq tah facil "quotar" do Orlando, uma outra parte que se encaixa bem nesse papo de moda:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And as she drove, we may seize the opportunity, since the landscape was&lt;br /&gt;of a simple English kind which needs no description, to draw the reader's&lt;br /&gt;attention more particularly than we could at the moment to one or two&lt;br /&gt;remarks which have slipped in here and there in the course of the&lt;br /&gt;narrative. For example, it may have been observed that Orlando hid her&lt;br /&gt;manuscripts when interrupted. Next, that she looked long and intently in&lt;br /&gt;the glass; and now, as she drove to London, one might notice her starting&lt;br /&gt;and suppressing a cry when the horses galloped faster than she liked. Her&lt;br /&gt;modesty as to her writing, her vanity as to her person, her fears for her&lt;br /&gt;safety all seems to hint that what was said a short time ago about there&lt;br /&gt;being no change in Orlando the man and Orlando the woman, was ceasing to&lt;br /&gt;be altogether true. She was becoming a little more modest, as women are,&lt;br /&gt;of her brains, and a little more vain, as women are, of her person.&lt;br /&gt;Certain susceptibilities were asserting themselves, and others were&lt;br /&gt;diminishing. The change of clothes had, some philosophers will say, much&lt;br /&gt;to do with it. Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more&lt;br /&gt;important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of&lt;br /&gt;the world and the world's view of us. For example, when Captain Bartolus&lt;br /&gt;saw Orlando's skirt, he had an awning stretched for her immediately,&lt;br /&gt;pressed her to take another slice of beef, and invited her to go ashore&lt;br /&gt;with him in the long-boat. These compliments would certainly not have&lt;br /&gt;been paid her had her skirts, instead of flowing, been cut tight to her&lt;br /&gt;legs in the fashion of breeches. And when we are paid compliments, it&lt;br /&gt;behoves us to make some return. Orlando curtseyed; she complied; she&lt;br /&gt;flattered the good man's humours as she would not have done had his neat&lt;br /&gt;breeches been a woman's skirts, and his braided coat a woman's satin&lt;br /&gt;bodice. Thus, there is much to support the view that it is clothes that&lt;br /&gt;wear us and not we them; we may make them take the mould of arm or&lt;br /&gt;breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their&lt;br /&gt;liking. So, having now worn skirts for a considerable time, a certain&lt;br /&gt;change was visible in Orlando, which is to be found if the reader will&lt;br /&gt;look at @ above, even in her face. If we compare the picture of Orlando&lt;br /&gt;as a man with that of Orlando as a woman we shall see that though both&lt;br /&gt;are undoubtedly one and the same person, there are certain changes. The&lt;br /&gt;man has his hand free to seize his sword, the woman must use hers to keep&lt;br /&gt;the satins from slipping from her shoulders. The man looks the world full&lt;br /&gt;in the face, as if it were made for his uses and fashioned to his liking.&lt;br /&gt;The woman takes a sidelong glance at it, full of subtlety, even of&lt;br /&gt;suspicion. Had they both worn the same clothes, it is possible that their&lt;br /&gt;outlook might have been the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the view of some philosophers and wise ones, but on the whole, we&lt;br /&gt;incline to another. The difference between the sexes is, happily, one of&lt;br /&gt;great profundity. Clothes are but a symbol of something hid deep beneath.&lt;br /&gt;It was a change in Orlando herself that dictated her choice of a woman's&lt;br /&gt;dress and of a woman's sex. And perhaps in this she was only expressing&lt;br /&gt;rather more openly than usual--openness indeed was the soul of her&lt;br /&gt;nature--something that happens to most people without being thus plainly&lt;br /&gt;expressed. For here again, we come to a dilemma. Different though the&lt;br /&gt;sexes are, they intermix. In every human being a vacillation from one sex&lt;br /&gt;to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the&lt;br /&gt;male or female likeness, while underneath the sex is the very opposite of&lt;br /&gt;what it is above. Of the complications and confusions which thus result&lt;br /&gt;everyone has had experience; but here we leave the general question and&lt;br /&gt;note only the odd effect it had in the particular case of Orlando&lt;br /&gt;herself."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4666750317226046663?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4666750317226046663/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4666750317226046663' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4666750317226046663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4666750317226046663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-am-alone-said-orlando-aloud-since.html' title='&apos;I am alone,&apos; said Orlando, aloud since there was no one to hear.'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4832333781077325750</id><published>2009-05-08T01:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T01:12:55.218+02:00</updated><title type='text'>she wanted to grow young with him</title><content type='html'>"she wanted to grow young with him. She wanted to go back to those times she was so afraid of everything and have his hand to hold. She wanted to be in his dead grandmother's garden and hear his laugh. She wanted to tell him about the seagull flying in the dusk in the beach on the same day that happened. She wanted to be there when his puppy died. She wanted to run with him in the empty street and spit and draw and show things, and feel genderless energy among them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had meet people before she wanted to grow old with, into the unkown that is the feeling of your body failing you. But not with him, he wasn't about things you HAD to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;escrevi isso faz tipo um ano, sempre que releio gosto muito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4832333781077325750?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4832333781077325750/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4832333781077325750' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4832333781077325750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4832333781077325750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2009/05/she-wanted-to-grow-young-with-him.html' title='she wanted to grow young with him'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-70890269955792021</id><published>2009-01-24T23:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T23:33:25.837+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma Police - Radiohead</title><content type='html'>Karma police, arrest this man&lt;br /&gt;He talks in maths&lt;br /&gt;He buzzes like a fridge&lt;br /&gt;He's like a detuned radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karma police, arrest this girl&lt;br /&gt;Her Hitler hairdo is&lt;br /&gt;Making me feel ill&lt;br /&gt;And we have crashed her party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get when you mess with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karma Police&lt;br /&gt;I've given all I can&lt;br /&gt;It's not enough&lt;br /&gt;I've given all I can&lt;br /&gt;But we're still on the payroll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get&lt;br /&gt;This is what you'll get when you mess with us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself&lt;br /&gt;For for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself&lt;br /&gt;Phew, for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-70890269955792021?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/70890269955792021/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=70890269955792021' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/70890269955792021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/70890269955792021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2009/01/karma-police-radiohead.html' title='Karma Police - Radiohead'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6724868599154619845</id><published>2008-11-04T14:04:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T14:19:32.276+01:00</updated><title type='text'>feeder</title><content type='html'>Eu tava numa loja um tempo atras e vi um "bird feeder", uma paradinha pra por na janela e colocar comida e ver os passaros comendo. E eu lembro tao bem de quando eu morei com meus avos de um que eles tinham (tem ainda?) e os passarinhos aparecendo pra comer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu comprei, mas chegando em casa me toquei que se eu colocasse isso na minha janela provavelmente soh ia apareer pomba (cara, como eu odeio pombas... ontem eu tava no parque comendo meu muffin e tinha uma pomba muito abusada querendo vir comer as migalhas, eu consegui acertar ela com uma bola de papel), e deixei guardado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aih agora eu vi um passaro lindo na minha varandinha, e reconsiderei tudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6724868599154619845?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6724868599154619845/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6724868599154619845' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6724868599154619845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6724868599154619845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/11/feeder.html' title='feeder'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1478057914641611569</id><published>2008-10-21T16:05:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T16:06:08.344+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Boots Of Spanish Leather - Bob Dylan</title><content type='html'>Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love,&lt;br /&gt;I'm sailin' away in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;Is there something I can send you from across the sea,&lt;br /&gt;From the place that I'll be landing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love,&lt;br /&gt;There's nothin' I wish to be ownin'.&lt;br /&gt;Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled,&lt;br /&gt;From across that lonesome ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine&lt;br /&gt;Made of silver or of golden,&lt;br /&gt;Either from the mountains of Madrid&lt;br /&gt;Or from the coast of Barcelona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night&lt;br /&gt;And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,&lt;br /&gt;I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss,&lt;br /&gt;For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I might be gone a long time&lt;br /&gt;And it's only that I'm askin',&lt;br /&gt;Is there something I can send you to remember me by,&lt;br /&gt;To make your time more easy passin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how can, how can you ask me again,&lt;br /&gt;It only brings me sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;The same thing I want from you today,&lt;br /&gt;I would want again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a letter on a lonesome day,&lt;br /&gt;It was from her ship a-sailin',&lt;br /&gt;Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again,&lt;br /&gt;It depends on how I'm a-feelin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way,&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure your mind is roamin'.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure your heart is not with me,&lt;br /&gt;But with the country to where you're goin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So take heed, take heed of the western wind,&lt;br /&gt;Take heed of the stormy weather.&lt;br /&gt;And yes, there's something you can send back to me,&lt;br /&gt;Spanish boots of Spanish leather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1478057914641611569?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1478057914641611569/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1478057914641611569' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1478057914641611569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1478057914641611569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/10/boots-of-spanish-leather-bob-dylan.html' title='Boots Of Spanish Leather - Bob Dylan'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4615720803684669420</id><published>2008-10-09T10:09:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T10:13:26.842+02:00</updated><title type='text'>kids</title><content type='html'>No caminho entre a minha casa e o ponto de onibus tem uma escola primária. E é bom começar o dia vendo um molequinho rir desesperadamente só porque viu um colega atravessando a rua do outro lado. Isso e ficar no ponto de onibus vendo os pais indo deixar as crianças na escola.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4615720803684669420?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4615720803684669420/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4615720803684669420' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4615720803684669420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4615720803684669420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/10/kids.html' title='kids'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5840054911502183140</id><published>2008-10-05T23:49:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T23:52:09.979+02:00</updated><title type='text'>what's my age again?</title><content type='html'>oqq eh idade? eu acabei de ver que uma fotografa que eu gosto muito tem a minha idade, sendo que eu achava que com certeza ela era mais velha (imaginava ela com 30, 40 anos, nao sei porque). E por que isso devia mudar algo? Seja na minha percepcao de mim mesma (caralho, tem gente da minha idade criando coisas tao acabadas, tao lindas), ou mesmo da arte dela (por que bem ou mal muda.. ou nao, nao sei). E dai que tal coisa foi feita por uma pessoa de 20 ou 40 anos... E eu nao consigo terminar o raciocinio, ao menos nao em palavras.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5840054911502183140?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5840054911502183140/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5840054911502183140' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5840054911502183140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5840054911502183140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/10/whats-my-age-again.html' title='what&apos;s my age again?'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5299274166554626418</id><published>2008-10-03T18:47:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T18:51:13.348+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Be The One - The Ting Tings</title><content type='html'>You say it's not what you do, &lt;br /&gt;It's what you're thinkin of&lt;br /&gt;Well I think it's just an excuse&lt;br /&gt;It's what you put across&lt;br /&gt;And I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Only overjoyed&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Makin all the noise&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So make sure you're thinkin it through&lt;br /&gt;You've let me down again&lt;br /&gt;Offer me somethin&lt;br /&gt;I know you really meant&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I don't wanna the one&lt;br /&gt;Only overjoyed&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Makin all the noise&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Hey! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you gonna offer now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Only overjoyed&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Makin all the noise&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I don't wanna be the one&lt;br /&gt;Hey! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you gonna offer now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was not my idea&lt;br /&gt;Don't you keep me waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(eu juro que quando voce ouve a musica nao soa tao escroto assim.... E eu sinceramente espero que Ting Tings nao vire mais um guilty pleasure meu)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5299274166554626418?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5299274166554626418/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5299274166554626418' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5299274166554626418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5299274166554626418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/10/be-one-ting-tings.html' title='Be The One - The Ting Tings'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7749827248931474516</id><published>2008-09-22T23:35:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T23:39:12.743+02:00</updated><title type='text'>voices in my head</title><content type='html'>E bora la... Eu que nunca vejo youtube, hoje vi um video de quase 20 minutos, alem de 5 quedas hilarias naqueles postes de stripper e o rap do LHC (que pareceu q parou de funcionar neh? moh merda), impressionantemente soh nao tive saco prum video de mais de 1 hora do Neil Gaiman (mas tmb porra, nao tinha como baixar pro iPhone!). E aih me pego procurando o podcast do Stephen Fry no iTunes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto bastante de radio, mas de um jeito que as vezes eu gosto de TV, eu gosto de ignorar. Eu gosto de ter ali ligado e nao ter nenhuma ambicao de estar prestando atencao, de soh preencher o silencio que fica em volta enquanto eu faco mil coisas ao mesmo tempo. Entao nunca entendi direito baixar pod-casts, por que eu prefiro mil vezes ler um texto ou entrevista do que ver a pessoa falando... Mas eu descobri que a minha excessao eh o Stephen Fry. Mas ha (?) de se concordar que nao poderia deixar de ser neh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7749827248931474516?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7749827248931474516/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7749827248931474516' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7749827248931474516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7749827248931474516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/09/voices-in-my-head.html' title='voices in my head'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8406000333479398076</id><published>2008-09-22T16:38:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T16:48:01.377+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Path</title><content type='html'>Fui desenterrar meu passaportes pra descobrir se meu visto americano realmente ainda era valido (jah q eu sabia q ele estava num dos passportes antigos), entao a titulo de curiosidade, uma historia dos meu passaportes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro:&lt;br /&gt;de Out/92 a Out/02&lt;br /&gt;(foto breto e branco, 6 anos, com uniforme da escolinha, eh minha foto mais fofinha da historia, eh tudo enorme na minha cara)&lt;br /&gt;Carimbos: EUA (tem um visto de 92 a 02), Italia, Argentina, Chile, Africa do Sul, Japao, Nova Zelandia (meu primeiro carimbo do consulado britanico foi pra la, eu soh fui viajar pra Londres muitos anos depois), Suazilandia (outro carimbo do consulado britanico), Ilhas Cayman (mais um!), Mexico, Grecia, Turquia, Tailandia, Franca (estranhamente, nenhum carimbo do CDG, mas de Orly e Roissy, dois aeroportos que nunca mais usei), Equador, Peru, Inglaterra ("channel tunnel"! 8 de julho de 1998, faz 10 anos que vim aqui pela primeira vez). E juro que ainda sobrou duas paginas em branco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segundo:&lt;br /&gt;de Set/01* a Set/06&lt;br /&gt;*pra ir pra Republica Tcheca precisa ter um passaporte com mais de 6 meses de validade&lt;br /&gt;(foto colorida, pouco depois deu ter cortado o cabelo bem curto depois de passar varios anos de cabelo cumprido... Com uniforme do meu colegial!)&lt;br /&gt;-Visto americano, de 29/09/2001 ateh 25/09/2011&lt;br /&gt;caraca, 10 anos... e isso menos de dois meses depois do 9/11... Eles sao loucos? Eu jah poderia ter virado uma terrorista.. toh achando que nem vao aceitar isso hein.. Aparentemente o ultimo carimbo eh de 2005 (quando eu fui lah ver se prestava pra NYU)&lt;br /&gt;Soh tem mais o visto da Republica Tcheca e uma entrada em Londres... Foi um periodo que eu viajei bem pouco mesmo, teve essa uma viagem pela Europa que fomos pra Praga e pra Viena, mas nao carimbaram nada, snif... Viva o Santa e eu pegar recuperacao praticamente todo semestre!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarto:&lt;br /&gt;Mar/06 a Mar/11&lt;br /&gt;(foto horrivel horrivel horrivel, eu tinha raspado o cabelo e tava chorando antes de tirar foto.. auuuuge da depressao como se pode ver)&lt;br /&gt;Visto frances, varios carimbos franceses, Tanzania, Africa do Sul, Atenas, outro visto frances...&lt;br /&gt;Foi esse que eu achei que tinha perdido e aih precisei tirar o seguinte de emergencia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terceiro:&lt;br /&gt;Ago/06 a Fev/07&lt;br /&gt;(foto feia pra caralho, emitido pelo consulado brasileiro de Londres)&lt;br /&gt;Soh tem carimbos de Londres e o Visto pra India (10/2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quarto (atual)&lt;br /&gt;Jan/07 a Jan/12&lt;br /&gt;(eu gosto da foto, meu cabelo tava vinho e encaracolado, e toh com uma blusa vinho e florida)&lt;br /&gt;Carimbos da Franca, Portugal e Inglaterra a dar com o rodo, Alemanha (Koln!), China (+HK e Macau), Japao, primeiro visto ingles (q tem um carimbo de entrada no 12/09 e um aviso preu me registrar com a policia em uma semana... E o carimbo da policia eh de 26/09 por que eu esqueci completamente dessa merda), Egito, segundo visto ingles (valido ateh 2011!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E isso meio q me dah ideia pro tal projeto que preciso apresentar pro primeiro dia de aula falando sobre o meu "caminho" ateh a faculdade (caramba, eu ODEIO projetos que sao necessariamente a respeito da sua pessoa).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8406000333479398076?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8406000333479398076/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8406000333479398076' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8406000333479398076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8406000333479398076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/09/path.html' title='Path'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8768413868379101316</id><published>2008-09-03T05:08:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T05:08:49.513+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pale September - Fiona Apple</title><content type='html'>Pale september, I wore the time like a dress that year&lt;br /&gt;The autumn days swung soft around me, like cotton on my skin&lt;br /&gt;But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared&lt;br /&gt;My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within&lt;br /&gt;But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full&lt;br /&gt;And sank in the burrows of my keep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet&lt;br /&gt;And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He goes along just as a water lily&lt;br /&gt;Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats&lt;br /&gt;Unweighted down by passion or intensity&lt;br /&gt;Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts&lt;br /&gt;And he finds a home in me&lt;br /&gt;For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all my armour failing down, in a pile at my feet&lt;br /&gt;And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep&lt;br /&gt;All my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet&lt;br /&gt;And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8768413868379101316?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8768413868379101316/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8768413868379101316' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8768413868379101316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8768413868379101316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/09/pale-september-fiona-apple.html' title='Pale September - Fiona Apple'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2085469280332204137</id><published>2008-08-29T20:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T20:11:05.829+02:00</updated><title type='text'>You're the Storm - The Cardigans</title><content type='html'>oh it's healing - bang bang bang&lt;br /&gt;i can hear your cannons call&lt;br /&gt;you've been aiming at my land &lt;br /&gt;your hungry hammer is falling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an angel bored like hell&lt;br /&gt;and you're a devil meaning well&lt;br /&gt;you steal my lines and you strike me dumb&lt;br /&gt;come raise your flag upon me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;if you win me I'm forever - oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I've been needing&lt;br /&gt;and all this peace has been deceiving&lt;br /&gt;I like the sweet life and the silence&lt;br /&gt;but it's the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come and conquer and drop your bombs&lt;br /&gt;cross my borders and kill the calm&lt;br /&gt;bear your fangs and burn my wings&lt;br /&gt;I hear bullets singing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;if you win me I'm forever - oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I've been needing&lt;br /&gt;and all this peace has been deceiving&lt;br /&gt;I need some wind to get me sailing&lt;br /&gt;so it's the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you fill my heart, you keep me breathing&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2085469280332204137?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2085469280332204137/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2085469280332204137' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2085469280332204137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2085469280332204137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/youre-storm-cardigans.html' title='You&apos;re the Storm - The Cardigans'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2974808584467154610</id><published>2008-08-20T06:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T06:35:03.420+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunk Typing</title><content type='html'>Year of the Rat - Badly Drawn Boy&lt;br /&gt;(porque realmente eh o ano do rato! Fiz 24 anos!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June is on the run for so long&lt;br /&gt;Pushed and pulled then shunned&lt;br /&gt;It was so wrong&lt;br /&gt;These fours walls crashing in won't stop me now&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'm alive, I'm out tonight, all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Every day we've got to hold on&lt;br /&gt;'cause if we hold on we could find some new energy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Streets with flags unfurled like treasure&lt;br /&gt;Thank me for my words, it's a pleasure&lt;br /&gt;Just don't ask me to stay 'cause I'll be gone&lt;br /&gt;But it's alright I'm OK - always&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Every day we've got to hold on&lt;br /&gt;'cause if we hold on we could find some new energy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One plus one is one - together&lt;br /&gt;One plus one is one - forever&lt;br /&gt;One plus one is one - together&lt;br /&gt;One plus one is one - forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Everybody needs to know it's the year of the rat&lt;br /&gt;Every day we've got to hold on&lt;br /&gt;'cause if we hold on we could find some new energy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One plus one plus one plus one is four"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One"&lt;br /&gt;"Plus one"&lt;br /&gt;"Plus one"&lt;br /&gt;"Plus one"&lt;br /&gt;"Four"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2974808584467154610?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2974808584467154610/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2974808584467154610' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2974808584467154610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2974808584467154610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/drunk-typing.html' title='Drunk Typing'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5514014998463246627</id><published>2008-08-19T07:07:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T07:09:28.109+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe</title><content type='html'>(ironicamente eu tendo a apelar pra quotations quando as coisas complicam, o que nao vai ajudar em nada o meu "future-self" a entender o que diabos eu tava pensando..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;(from American Gods, by Neil Gaiman)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Elvis and Mister Ed. Listen–I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones who look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women.  I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass.  I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline of good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state.  I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative.  I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of The Worlds.  I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself.  I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.  I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies too. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system.  I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5514014998463246627?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5514014998463246627/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5514014998463246627' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5514014998463246627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5514014998463246627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-believe.html' title='I Believe'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3037126898727311</id><published>2008-08-12T04:11:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T04:13:06.911+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight - Squirrel Nut Zippers</title><content type='html'>You come to me at twilight&lt;br /&gt;The soft summer breeze, the&lt;br /&gt;sand, the waving hair&lt;br /&gt;But how am I to know?&lt;br /&gt;This feeling has no name.&lt;br /&gt;Each morning I dream of twighlight&lt;br /&gt;And wait for your glow&lt;br /&gt;Down from where the moonflowers grow.&lt;br /&gt;Far beneath the sea&lt;br /&gt;Awaits a home for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3037126898727311?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3037126898727311/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3037126898727311' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3037126898727311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3037126898727311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/twilight-squirrel-nut-zippers.html' title='Twilight - Squirrel Nut Zippers'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1111453368818777895</id><published>2008-08-06T19:05:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T19:18:21.108+02:00</updated><title type='text'>one mistake away</title><content type='html'>(eu vou tentar fazer um post meio ao estilo dos posts da Luisa, ela tem um jeito de ir conectando memorias a acontecimentos que eu acho muito foda mas sempre q eu vou fazer algo parecido, os meus textos ficam bem mais chatos, vamos ver se rola...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembra na escola, nas provas de portugues (e ateh quando voce estah aprendendo uma nova lingua) sempre tinha a parte de "interpretacao de texto". Acho que eh uma das poucas coisas que eu era execepcionalmente boa, e eu simplesmente nao conseguia entender como alguem nao achava aquelas perguntas as coisas mais ridiculas do mundo. Eu sempre adorei essa parte, claro que era simplesmente algo que eu fazia por prazer com metade do meu tempo (ler livros) aplicado numa prova, e eu adorava que alguem estava ali me perguntando o que eu achava de tal trecho, como eu interpretaria tal frase... Que nao era bem o que acontece quando eu leio livros, so as vezes as pessoas perguntam sua opiniao sobre um capitulo ou coisa assim, no maximo voce acaba dando sua opiniao sobre o livro inteiro, mas eh claro q eu sempre achei os detalhes muito mais interessantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eh claro que eu acabei aplicando isso a varias partes da minha vida... A coisa obvia eh quando vc recebe um email (ou carta, sabe eu jah recebi cartas algum dia da minha vida) e vai interpretando a escolha de palavras, as frases... Mas aih eu fui me tocando que na verdade eu faco isso em coisas muito alem de texto, em conversas e acoes. E eu sei que esse eh meu grande problema atualmente, que eu fico tentando interpretar tudo, que eu acho q todo mundo eh q nem eu q pensa um zilhao de vezes antes de abrir a boca ou dar um passo a frente, o que eh uma enorme mentira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o pior foi quando isso foi se misturando a outra coisa que me ensinaram na escola (pelo jeito que eu soh fui uma aluna mediocre nas notas mesmo), o empirismo. De confiar na observacao dos fatos e tirar conclusoes disso e tudo mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh isso que eh engracado, por que toda vez q eu comeco a falar de "amostragem" quando me refiro a pessoas, eu sei q estou cometendo um erro gravissimo, pq pessoas sao diferentes demais umas das outras. Mas agora eu me toco que eh simplesmente uma confusao que eu acabo fazendo de querer que algo que eu aprendi na parte de Ciencias seja aplicado a algo que eu aprendi na parte de Portugues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso aqui nao tah fazendo mais sentindo nenhum, soh acho engracado como eu peverto minhas proprias nocoes, de coisas q funcionam numa area mas nao em outra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que eu queria dizer no comeco eh q eu adoro observar, eu adoro ter material pra interpretar... Nao pra tirar nenhuma conclusao magnanima cientifica, mas para ter o prazer de tentar entender uma coisa tao absurda que pode ser um outro ser humano.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1111453368818777895?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1111453368818777895/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1111453368818777895' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1111453368818777895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1111453368818777895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-mistake-away.html' title='one mistake away'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5846960993132457194</id><published>2008-08-01T00:02:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T00:03:18.679+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hear The Rain - The Violent Femmes</title><content type='html'>I hear the rain. I hear the rain. &lt;br /&gt;I hear the rain. &lt;br /&gt;Got to kill the pain. &lt;br /&gt;I hear the rain. I hear the rain. &lt;br /&gt;I hear the rain. &lt;br /&gt;Got to kill the pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burry me out on a lone prarie. &lt;br /&gt;Prarie water washin' over me. &lt;br /&gt;Burry me out on a lone prarie. &lt;br /&gt;A friend who calls a coyote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burry me out in the lone city. &lt;br /&gt;Sewer water color of my tea. &lt;br /&gt;Burry me out in the lone city. &lt;br /&gt;Sewer water wash we all down to sea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She use to sit and watch and wait. &lt;br /&gt;Now I think I'll go and sit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5846960993132457194?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5846960993132457194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5846960993132457194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5846960993132457194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5846960993132457194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-hear-rain-violent-femmes.html' title='I Hear The Rain - The Violent Femmes'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4995702612664166108</id><published>2008-07-30T07:12:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T07:20:33.202+02:00</updated><title type='text'>it's finally now</title><content type='html'>Minha mae me deu uma camera nikomat, que ela ganhou como presente de casamento com o meu pai (ha quase 30 anos atras).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo no banheiro um conjunto de maquiagem que minha prima de Londres me deu... Eu moro em Londres agora e esse presente deve ser muito antigo, por que ela ainda era saudavel naquela epoca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procurando posters para o meu novo apartamento, lembrei da foto que eu tirei de um que havia no apartamento do meu irmao em Nova York e que pertencia ao roommate dele. Pela maravilha que eh o Facebook, escrevi uma mensagem pra ele perguntando a respeito do poster. Ele comeca a resposta dizendo que se lembra de mim, e que havia se esquecido do poster, que agora provavelmente reside na casa de uma ex-namorada com pouca chances dele reve-lo, e que tinha sido uma heranca de um avo (a foto que eu tenho do poster eh muito borrada, vergonha de tirar foto de uma coisa impressa, de uma parede... Se fosse uma boa foto talvez poderia reproduzi-la?). Ele agradece-me por trazer lembrancas a um dia tao normal e chato, e eu penso que estoria complicada um objeto pode ter, apesar de ser mesmo um lindo poster, e realmente bastante unico, penso em pelo menos tentar desenterrar a foto, mesmo borrada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4995702612664166108?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4995702612664166108/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4995702612664166108' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4995702612664166108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4995702612664166108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/07/its-finally-now.html' title='it&apos;s finally now'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5959012325571368336</id><published>2008-07-07T17:46:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T17:46:53.714+02:00</updated><title type='text'>8gig</title><content type='html'>algum dia eu vou ter internet, eu tenho feh.... Enquanto isso:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tourists from Britain and elsewhere are constantly warned about Florida's pro-gun laws, which include one that allows people on the street to stand their ground, draw their guns and fire if they feel in anyway threatened."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5959012325571368336?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5959012325571368336/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5959012325571368336' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5959012325571368336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5959012325571368336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/07/8gig.html' title='8gig'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5104601806055012657</id><published>2008-06-22T16:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T16:30:10.738+02:00</updated><title type='text'>We Will Become Silhouettes - Postal Service</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;ve got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water, and pictures of you and i&amp;#39;m not coming out&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Until this is all over&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And i&amp;#39;m looking through the glass where the light bends at the cracks&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And i&amp;#39;m screaming at the top of my lungs pretending The echoes belong to someone&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Someone i used to know&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ba ba ba... I wanted to walk through the empty streets&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And feel something constant under my feet,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;But all the news reports recommended thatI stay indoors&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Because the air outside will make our cells&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Divide at an alarming rate until our shells&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Simply cannot hold all our insides in,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And that&amp;#39;s when we&amp;#39;ll explode(and it won&amp;#39;t be a pretty sight)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And we&amp;#39;ll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Ba ba ba..&lt;br&gt;Sent using BlackBerry&amp;#174; from Orange&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5104601806055012657?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5104601806055012657/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5104601806055012657' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5104601806055012657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5104601806055012657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/06/we-will-become-silhouettes-postal.html' title='We Will Become Silhouettes - Postal Service'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-841077858407345266</id><published>2008-05-21T19:19:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T19:20:22.700+02:00</updated><title type='text'>my life</title><content type='html'>Julia enche o saco de tentar comprar moveis de qualidade e ter que esperar mais de 1 mes para eles serem entregues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia decide comprar o tal movel na Ikea e foda-se a qualidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia descobre que o movel em questao precisa esperar pelo menos 1 mes para ser entregue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-841077858407345266?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/841077858407345266/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=841077858407345266' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/841077858407345266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/841077858407345266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-life.html' title='my life'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4612759633738326845</id><published>2008-05-16T09:36:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T09:45:03.342+02:00</updated><title type='text'>'morning</title><content type='html'>Nada como acordar cedo pra encher o saco de atendentes telefonicos... Nao sao nem 9 da manha ainda e eu jah briguei com um indiano da BT, fingi q era a Luisa e conversei com um frances bem-humorado em ingles. E agora lah vou eu pagar 6 meses de aluguel adiantado...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4612759633738326845?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4612759633738326845/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4612759633738326845' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4612759633738326845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4612759633738326845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/morning.html' title='&apos;morning'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6360679842530433897</id><published>2008-05-14T21:28:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T21:34:36.518+02:00</updated><title type='text'>mistakes aren't always regrets</title><content type='html'>Ao invez (inves? eu queria poder ver as coisas do google em ingles e ter corretor automatico em portugues nos textos, em email isso irrita TANTO) de postar musica, dessa vez vai uns quotes recortados de um post do Neil Gaiman (ele inteiro: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2008/05/what-you-cant-help-doing.html)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(e o titulo eh do grandioso Joey Comeau, claro)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep writing, and after a while you'll have written enough that you can't help sounding like yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Style is what you get wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Style is what you can't help doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Style is what you're left with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to tell the stories that you cannot help but tell, the stories you would be telling yourself if you had no audience to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ones that reveal a little too much about you to the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry about trying to develop a style. Style is what you can’t help doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6360679842530433897?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6360679842530433897/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6360679842530433897' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6360679842530433897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6360679842530433897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/mistakes-arent-always-regrets.html' title='mistakes aren&apos;t always regrets'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5804865297646973297</id><published>2008-05-12T17:31:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T20:39:24.866+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fur</title><content type='html'>As vezes eu penso no quanto eu me apaixono pelas possibilidades, da vida e das pessoas. Elas n&amp;#227;o s&amp;#227;o exatamente fantasias, por que s&amp;#227;o firmemente baseadas em caracter&amp;#237;sticas e fatos concretos, na minha mente, ao menos, elas t&amp;#234;m total probabilidade de acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Mutiny, I Promise You&amp;quot; the new pornographers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sweetheart, I was trapped in transit &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;My lost ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;When your wild eye wandered here lady &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Go out by the sweetheart tree &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;But don&amp;#39;t let go It&amp;#39;s how my friend history here made me What&amp;#39;s the weight of the world worth to ya, kid &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Go write down what you see &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And see how far it can go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;What&amp;#39;s the weight of the world worth to your side &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Here is where you got lost &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here is how you got by &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the mutiny I promised you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the party it turned into &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Heartbeat, you abandoned searches &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Your lost ride &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;re in my lost country now lady &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sweethearts in the crosstown wild &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;You don&amp;#39;t let go &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;To the new live history goes with me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Here is where you got lost &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here is how you got by &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the mutiny I promised you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the party it turned into &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the mutiny I promised you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;And here&amp;#39;s the moment it turned into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sweetheats on the green &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Flung pistols in high tide &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Move like my friend history here told me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Clear-skied when the clear eye opened &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;My new moon to the new land &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Won&amp;#39;t you come with me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Sent using BlackBerry&amp;#174; from Orange&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5804865297646973297?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5804865297646973297/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5804865297646973297' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5804865297646973297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5804865297646973297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/as-vezes-eu-penso-no-quanto-eu-me.html' title='Fur'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7043914184776066047</id><published>2008-05-06T15:45:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T16:08:10.976+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Shuffly!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Holes to Heaven - Jack Johnson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the air was more than human&lt;br /&gt;and the heat was more than hungry &lt;br /&gt;and the cars were square and spitting diesel fumes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bulls were running wild&lt;br /&gt;because their big and mean and sacred&lt;br /&gt;and the children were playing cricket with no shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next morning we woke a man with a seven hour drive&lt;br /&gt;well there we were stuck in port blaire&lt;br /&gt;where boats break and children stare&lt;br /&gt;and there were so many fewer questions &lt;br /&gt;when stars were still just the holes to heaven&lt;br /&gt;mmhmm&lt;br /&gt;and there were so many fewer questions &lt;br /&gt;when stars were still just the holes to heaven&lt;br /&gt;mmhmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;disembarking from the port&lt;br /&gt;with no mistakes of any sort&lt;br /&gt;moving soundly engine running smooth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;officials work while friendly&lt;br /&gt;once we drown them with our sweet talk&lt;br /&gt;and we bribe them with our cigarettes and booze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next morning we woke a man with the sunrise to the right&lt;br /&gt;moving back north to port claire&lt;br /&gt;where boats break and children stare&lt;br /&gt;and there were so many fewer questions &lt;br /&gt;when stars were still just the holes to heaven&lt;br /&gt;mmhmm&lt;br /&gt;yes and there were so many fewer questions &lt;br /&gt;when stars were still just the holes to heaven&lt;br /&gt;mmhmm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Who Needs Love - Razorlight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh darling who needs love?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs a heaven up above?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs the clouds, in the sky, not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh darling who needs the rain?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs somebody that can feel your pain?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs the disappointment, of a telephone call, not I&lt;br /&gt;No I don't need that at all, not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm, tired of love&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, sick of love&lt;br /&gt;I've taken more than enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh darling who needs the night?&lt;br /&gt;The sacred hours, the fading life&lt;br /&gt;Who needs the morning, and the joy it brings, not I&lt;br /&gt;I've got my mind on other things, not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh darling who needs joy?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs a perfect girl or boy?&lt;br /&gt;And who needs to draw, that person near, not I&lt;br /&gt;Because they always disappear, not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know, I'm, tired of love&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'm, sick of love&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;You give me more than enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh darling who needs love?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs a heaven up above?&lt;br /&gt;Who needs all the arguments, who needs to be right, not I&lt;br /&gt;But I just can't give up without a fight, not I&lt;br /&gt;No I just can't give up without a fight, not I&lt;br /&gt;No I just can't give up without a fight, not I&lt;br /&gt;No no no not I&lt;br /&gt;Ooh no no not I&lt;br /&gt;No no no no no not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma? &lt;br /&gt;I've seen those English dramas too &lt;br /&gt;They're cruel &lt;br /&gt;So if there's any other way &lt;br /&gt;To spell the word &lt;br /&gt;It's fine with me, with me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would you speak to me that way &lt;br /&gt;Especially when I always said that I &lt;br /&gt;Haven't got the words for you &lt;br /&gt;All your diction dripping with disdain &lt;br /&gt;Through the pain &lt;br /&gt;I always tell the truth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who gives a fuck about an Oxford comma? &lt;br /&gt;I climbed to Dharamsala too &lt;br /&gt;I did &lt;br /&gt;I met the highest lama &lt;br /&gt;His accent sounded fine &lt;br /&gt;To me, to me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check your handbook &lt;br /&gt;It's no trick &lt;br /&gt;Take the chapstick &lt;br /&gt;Put it on your lips &lt;br /&gt;Crack a smile &lt;br /&gt;Adjust my tie &lt;br /&gt;Know your boyfriend, unlike other guys &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about how much coal you have? &lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about something dumb like that? &lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about anything at all? &lt;br /&gt;First the window, then it's to the wall &lt;br /&gt;Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check your passport &lt;br /&gt;It's no trick &lt;br /&gt;Take the chapstick &lt;br /&gt;Put it on your lips &lt;br /&gt;Crack a smile &lt;br /&gt;Adjust my tie &lt;br /&gt;Know your butler, unlike other guys &lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about how much coal you have? &lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about something dumb like that? &lt;br /&gt;Why would you lie about anything at all? &lt;br /&gt;First the window, then it's through the wall &lt;br /&gt;Why would you tape my conversations? &lt;br /&gt;Show your paintings &lt;br /&gt;At the United Nations &lt;br /&gt;Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Cats Eyes - Guillemots&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a sandcastle far away from here&lt;br /&gt;I was born with blue eyes - they disappeared&lt;br /&gt;(There’s an angel where he likes to hide&lt;br /&gt;There’s an angel where she likes to hide)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came out in a street wearing cats’ eyes&lt;br /&gt;And the stream never stopped, 'cause nobody lied&lt;br /&gt;(There’s an angel where he needs to hide&lt;br /&gt;There’s an angel where she needs to hide)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’m&lt;br /&gt;Dying for you each day&lt;br /&gt;You were the meaning of true&lt;br /&gt;How did I ever lose you?&lt;br /&gt;Dropped you in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Black is not darker than white&lt;br /&gt;A prison is colder than free&lt;br /&gt;Angel, am I still me?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me true&lt;br /&gt;I lost my name in a war&lt;br /&gt;I should have told you before&lt;br /&gt;Somebody mentioned the score&lt;br /&gt;Well I went running&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my lines, fly’s on zebra’s backs&lt;br /&gt;City lust, lime rust water falls and attacks&lt;br /&gt;(Snow fall in heaven, where they like to hide&lt;br /&gt;Snow fall in heaven, where they like to hide)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I see why I’ve been thirsty for years&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause they lead us back there with cold lunatic skill&lt;br /&gt;(Snow fall in heaven, so they want to hide&lt;br /&gt;They’re cold in heaven, so they want to love)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’m&lt;br /&gt;Dying for you each day&lt;br /&gt;You were the meaning of truth&lt;br /&gt;Everything paired out on you&lt;br /&gt;So I dropped you in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Black is no further than white&lt;br /&gt;A prison is colder than free&lt;br /&gt;Angel, am I still me?&lt;br /&gt;Take me back&lt;br /&gt;I saw such things in my sleep&lt;br /&gt;Creatures that taught me to speak&lt;br /&gt;And sang me a tune&lt;br /&gt;Sang me a tune&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone leaves you behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I’m coming back to you now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines  - Panic At The Disco!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop stalling, make a name for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Boy you better put that pen to paper and charm your way out. &lt;br /&gt;If you talk you better walk you better back your shit up &lt;br /&gt;With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start talking "a sensationalist" &lt;br /&gt;Oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent &lt;br /&gt;If you talk you better walk you better keep your mouth shut&lt;br /&gt;With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Panic!: meet the press)&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us to take a chance&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us to take a chance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Panic!: meet the press)&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us to take a chance&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm burning and I'm blacking my lungs &lt;br /&gt;Boy you know it feels good with fire back on your tongue&lt;br /&gt;If you talk you better walk you better back your shit up &lt;br /&gt;With more than good hooks while you're all under the gun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start talking "a sensationalist" &lt;br /&gt;Oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent &lt;br /&gt;Well keep quiet let us sing like the doves&lt;br /&gt;Then decide if it's done with purpose or lack thereof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record, &lt;br /&gt;The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: &lt;br /&gt;A. Indifference or &lt;br /&gt;B. Disinterest in what the critics say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us to take a chance&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record, &lt;br /&gt;The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: &lt;br /&gt;A. Indifference or &lt;br /&gt;B. Disinterest in what the critics say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we're just a wet dream for the webzine, &lt;br /&gt;Make us it, make us hip, make us scene&lt;br /&gt;Or shrug us off your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Don't approve a single word that we wrote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record, &lt;br /&gt;The weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: &lt;br /&gt;A. Indifference or&lt;br /&gt;B. Disinterest in what the critics say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Love is Like a Bottle of Gin - The Magnetic Fields&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes you blind, it does you in&lt;br /&gt;It makes you think you're pretty tough&lt;br /&gt;It makes you prone to crime and sin&lt;br /&gt;It makes you say things off the cuff&lt;br /&gt;It's very small and made of glass&lt;br /&gt;and grossly over-advertised&lt;br /&gt;It turns a genius to an ass&lt;br /&gt;and makes a fool think he is wise&lt;br /&gt;It could make you regret your birth&lt;br /&gt;or turn cartwheels in your best suit&lt;br /&gt;It costs a lot more than it's worth&lt;br /&gt;and yet there is no substitute&lt;br /&gt;They keep it on a higher shelf&lt;br /&gt;the older and more pure it grows&lt;br /&gt;It has no color in itself&lt;br /&gt;but it can make you see rainbows&lt;br /&gt;You can find it on the Bowery&lt;br /&gt;or you can find it at Elaine's &lt;br /&gt;It makes your words more flowery&lt;br /&gt;It makes the sun shine, makes it rain&lt;br /&gt;You just get out what they put in&lt;br /&gt;and they never put in enough&lt;br /&gt;Love is like a bottle of gin&lt;br /&gt;but a bottle of gin is not like love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7043914184776066047?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7043914184776066047/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7043914184776066047' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7043914184776066047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7043914184776066047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/shuffly.html' title='Shuffly!'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4595560597706073295</id><published>2008-05-05T17:17:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T17:24:28.232+02:00</updated><title type='text'>doublethink</title><content type='html'>Eu toh lendo o "The God Delusion", estou gostando bastante, apesar dessa coisa de ler livros nao-ficcao eh meio aflitivo, se a coisa toda eh um argumento, dah nervoso nao poder ficar interrompendo e fazendo perguntas pro autor (como eu acho q ele esquece de aplicar as mesmas perguntas pra questoes parecidas). Mas tah sendo engracado ficar pensando em como eu desenvolvi minha nocao ateista bem nova e pelos mesmo caminhos "evolucionistas" que ele propoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas ao mesmo tempo eu fico muito assim de soh ter lido 1984 agora, ele consegue exemplificar certos tipos de pensamento tao bem, e as coisas ficam tao mais faceis quando a gente tem exemplos claros na cabeca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No One Will Ever Love You - The Magnetic Fields&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't mind why don't you mind &lt;br /&gt;Where is your sense of indignation &lt;br /&gt;You are too kind &lt;br /&gt;Much too kind &lt;br /&gt;Where is the madness that you promised me &lt;br /&gt;Where is the dream for which I paid dearly &lt;br /&gt;When things go wrong I sing along It&lt;br /&gt;is the nature of the business &lt;br /&gt;But you're not here to make my sad songs more sincere &lt;br /&gt;No one will ever love you honestly &lt;br /&gt;No one will ever love you for your honesty &lt;br /&gt;No one will ever love you honestly &lt;br /&gt;No one will ever love you for your honesty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4595560597706073295?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4595560597706073295/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4595560597706073295' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4595560597706073295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4595560597706073295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/doublethink.html' title='doublethink'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-9117936730632568796</id><published>2008-05-03T19:10:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T19:13:54.673+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard to Explain - The Strokes</title><content type='html'>Was an honest man&lt;br /&gt;Asked me for the phone&lt;br /&gt;Tried to take control&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I don't see it that way&lt;br /&gt;I don't see it that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we shared some ideas&lt;br /&gt;All obsessed with fame&lt;br /&gt;Says we're all the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raised in Carolina&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not like that"&lt;br /&gt;Trying to remind her&lt;br /&gt;When we go back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed the last bus, I'll take the next train&lt;br /&gt;I try but you see, it's hard to explain&lt;br /&gt;I say the right things, but act the wrong way&lt;br /&gt;I like it right here, but I cannot stay&lt;br /&gt;I watch the TV; forget what I'm told&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am too young, and they are too old&lt;br /&gt;The joke is on you, this place is a zoo&lt;br /&gt;"You're right it's true"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Says he can't decide&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head to say&lt;br /&gt;Everything's just great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I just can't remember&lt;br /&gt;I just can't remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, man, can't you see I'm nervous, so please&lt;br /&gt;Pretend to be nice, so I can be mean &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the last bus, we take the next train&lt;br /&gt;I try but you see, it's hard to explain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-9117936730632568796?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/9117936730632568796/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=9117936730632568796' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9117936730632568796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9117936730632568796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/05/hard-to-explain-strokes.html' title='Hard to Explain - The Strokes'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5623056054782384771</id><published>2008-04-26T14:27:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T14:28:49.634+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sunday morning</title><content type='html'>eu toh vendo "E.T.". E acabou de ter a cena que o menino finge estar doente pra poder ficar em casa tomando conta do ET, e ele coloca o termometro na lampada pra temperatura aumentar. Uma vez eu tentei fazer isso e a merda do termometro estourou. Acho que foi minha primeira evidencia que as coisas nao funcionavam que nem nos filmes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu estou pensando se essa eh uma versao retocada ou nao, pq, pqp, os efeitos do pescoco dele esticando sao perfeitos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5623056054782384771?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5623056054782384771/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5623056054782384771' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5623056054782384771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5623056054782384771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/sunday-morning.html' title='sunday morning'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4142267109410903280</id><published>2008-04-25T21:22:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T21:33:59.457+02:00</updated><title type='text'>clockwork</title><content type='html'>Que semana exaustiva meu deuses! E mega produtiva.. Consegui ir nas 3 sessoes de terapia E avancar pra caramba com o meu projeto (tirar livros, ler livros, ter ideias). Incrivel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tive que dar uma enrolada enquanto minha fotos revelavam (isso q eh foda de ter q "mostrar que trabalhou", se eu nao imprimo as fotos, nao tem como os tutores acreditarem q eu tirei-as e aih muito menos crer q eu me dediquei a causa) fiquei me perdendo perto da Victoria Station. Do nada achei carga pra caneta q eu comprei na italia (acho q eu nunca tinha trocado carga de caneta, eu sempre desencan), e tava na cabeca q eu queria comprar um relogio de parede para fazer uns experimentos, soh q meio com preguica depois q eu vi q podia comprar online na Argos... Mas aih passei na frente de uma lojinha/farmacia que tinha bem na vitrine um relogio e resolvi entrar pra comprar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voce estah presenciando um dos momentos em que a Julia gostaria que ela fosse uma otima escritora capaz de descrever situacoes e lugares hiper bem e transmitir todas as emocoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era uma daquelas farmacias que tem meio de tudo, e tudo meio empoeirado, e tinha ateh uns jarros de vidro tipo antiguidade mesmo lah em cima, e uma variedade de coisas completamente absurda (afinal, tinha um relogio na vitrine). Eu entrei e soh tinha um velhinho fazendo oq parecia ser a contabilidade. Ele que foi na vitrine pegar o relogio, no passo mais devagar da terra (q eu relaciono ao jeito q eu andava depois da operacao de vesicula, aquele medo das coisas comecarem a doer, aquela fragilidade). Ele pediu desculpas que o relogio vinha sem pilha, mas eu disse que tinha em casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso que 15 minutos antes eu tava devorando um panini e um frappucino no starbucks. Eu gosto disso de Londres, sempre dah pra escolher entre o troco generico sem personalidade e o troco antiguinho fofinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parte da pesquisa pro meu projeto estah sendo ler T.S. Elliot. Bacana o cara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que fim de semana bem merecido esse vai ser, isso se eu nao cismar de ficar inventando coisa com o relogio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, eu quase fui atropelada. Na verdade eu nao queria contar isso pra ninguem, pq as pessoas vao ficar mais no "oh meu deus vc quase morreu", quando na verdade eu nao senti nada disso, soh foi engracado pq obviamente eu tava distraida ouvindo o ipod e carregando o guarda chuva japones q eu tinha comprado, e aih tomei um susto de alguma coisa encostando no meu braco direito, e era uma land lover sendo dirigida por uma moca de veu. Eu tomei um puta susto (nao sei se do toque, ou de de repente me tocar q era um carro), soltei um berro e pedi desculpas pra moca e continuei andando. E foi soh isso. Soh isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4142267109410903280?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4142267109410903280/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4142267109410903280' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4142267109410903280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4142267109410903280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/clockwork.html' title='clockwork'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-549120407807283144</id><published>2008-04-21T19:35:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T19:51:13.550+02:00</updated><title type='text'>shine a light</title><content type='html'>Hoje eu comprei uma lente 50mm fixa bonitinha, pequenininha, com (de?) f1.4, oq faz ela ainda mais fofinha, eu vou chamar ela de pequerucha. Eh a primeira compra de equipamento fotografico da minha vida, por que minhas outras lentes e a camera foram presente de natal. eu fiquei tao feliz com ela, ela eh lindinha demais mesmo. Ela eh tudo que eu queria mesmo, ela eh tao pequena, que deixa minha camera pequena, e aih as pessoas nao ficam mais tao chocadas com o meu equipamento, e eu fico menos com vergonha de nao saber merda nenhuma, mas ao mesmo tempo ela eh toda rapidinha pra focar, e cara, 1.4, eu vou abusar muito disso. Na minha cabeca eu vou tirar lindas fotos no verao com ela... E ela custou tipo nada em comparacao aos altos gastos que tinha decidido fazer, mas pra variar nao consegui ser muito audasiosa, mas nossa, como eu amo essa pequerucha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu cheguei na loja querendo de qq forma arranjar uma grande angular que nem a que eu tinha brincado na Italia. O senhor que me atendeu foi mega paciente e realmente eu cheguei a conclusao que minha camera (d80) nao permite grandes coisas nessa area... Eu cheguei a ser tentada por uma fisheye fofinha tmb, mas nao tinha ela do jeito que eu queria. Aih parti pro meu proximo objetivo que era uma tele... Soh que eu fui vendo os tamanhos e as aberturas e tudo mais, e tambem desanimei... A "merda" eh que minha lente "default" jah cobre os dois campos muito bem. Droga de mae que escolhe bem presente viu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entao pedi pra me avisarem quando chegar a outra fisheye, comprei a pequerucha e umas sacolinhas protegidas pras minhas outras lentes nao se sentirem desprezadas (eu tinha pretensoes tambem de comprar uma super sacola pra minhas lentes e pra camera, mas acabei deixando pruma proxima vez). E eu toh chegando a conclusao q vou me divertir mais colecionando acessorios e piripaques pra fazer efeitos nas fotos, mas veremos, veremos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mercedes Benz - Janis Joplin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?&lt;br /&gt;My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.&lt;br /&gt;Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,&lt;br /&gt;So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?&lt;br /&gt;Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me.&lt;br /&gt;I wait for delivery each day until three,&lt;br /&gt;So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?&lt;br /&gt;I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.&lt;br /&gt;Prove that you love me and buy the next round,&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-549120407807283144?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/549120407807283144/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=549120407807283144' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/549120407807283144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/549120407807283144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/shine-light.html' title='shine a light'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4081199179199807495</id><published>2008-04-20T18:27:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T18:30:58.710+02:00</updated><title type='text'>portuguese road trip</title><content type='html'>Essa musica fica cismando no meu shuffle ultimamente... sei lah oq isso quer dizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu ando sem inspiracao nenhuma pra me dedicar a meu projeto, uma bosta... e eu sempre me fodo nessas de ficar esperando a inspiracao divina. minha cabeca tah simplesmente tao ruim, queria jah tah com tudo na vida resovido pra me dedicar tranquilamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;repeticao, repeticao....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make Your Own Kind Of Music - The Mamas &amp; the Papas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can tell ya;&lt;br /&gt;There's only one song worth singin'.&lt;br /&gt;They may try and sell ya,&lt;br /&gt;'cause it hangs them up&lt;br /&gt;to see somone like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you've gotta make your own kind of music&lt;br /&gt;sing your own special song,&lt;br /&gt;make your own kind of music even if nobody&lt;br /&gt;else sing along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you cannot take my hand,&lt;br /&gt;and if you must be goin',&lt;br /&gt;I will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be knowing&lt;br /&gt;the loneliest kind of lonely.&lt;br /&gt;It may be rough goin',&lt;br /&gt;just to do your thing's&lt;br /&gt;the hardest thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you've gotta make your own kind of music&lt;br /&gt;sing your own special song,&lt;br /&gt;make your own kind of music even if nobody&lt;br /&gt;else sings along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you cannot take my hand,&lt;br /&gt;and if you must be goin',&lt;br /&gt;I will understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gotta make your own kind of music&lt;br /&gt;sing your own special song,&lt;br /&gt;make your own kind of music even if nobody&lt;br /&gt;else sings along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4081199179199807495?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4081199179199807495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4081199179199807495' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4081199179199807495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4081199179199807495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/portuguese-road-trip.html' title='portuguese road trip'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-9004907663997837068</id><published>2008-04-17T17:08:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T17:09:32.120+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace Kelly - Mika</title><content type='html'>(Mika eh meio brega, meio pop demais, mas a voz dele eh fodassa e as musicas muito felizes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I attract you?&lt;br /&gt;Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?&lt;br /&gt;Am I too dirty?&lt;br /&gt;Am I too flirty?&lt;br /&gt;Do I like what you like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be wholesome&lt;br /&gt;I could be loathsome&lt;br /&gt;I guess Im a little bit shy&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like me?&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like me without making me try?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to be like Grace Kelly&lt;br /&gt;But all her looks were too sad&lt;br /&gt;So I try a little Freddie&lt;br /&gt;Ive gone identity mad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be brown &lt;br /&gt;I could be blue &lt;br /&gt;I could be violet sky&lt;br /&gt;I could be hurtful&lt;br /&gt;I could be purple&lt;br /&gt;I could be anything you like&lt;br /&gt;Gotta be green&lt;br /&gt;Gotta be mean&lt;br /&gt;Gotta be everything more&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like me?&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like me?&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you walk out the door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I help it&lt;br /&gt;How can I help it&lt;br /&gt;How can I help what you think?&lt;br /&gt;Hello my baby &lt;br /&gt;Hello my baby&lt;br /&gt;Putting my life on the brink&lt;br /&gt;Why dont yo like me&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like me&lt;br /&gt;Why dont you like yourself?&lt;br /&gt;Should I bend over?&lt;br /&gt;Should I look older just to be put on the shelf?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-9004907663997837068?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/9004907663997837068/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=9004907663997837068' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9004907663997837068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9004907663997837068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/grace-kelly-mika.html' title='Grace Kelly - Mika'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4423685654336130391</id><published>2008-04-16T00:23:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T00:34:42.757+02:00</updated><title type='text'>when I play doctor, I play to win.</title><content type='html'>Cabei de voltar de ouvir o Joey Comeau lendo as coisas dele, foi estranho rir junto com outras pessoas de texto que eu jah cansei de rir sozinha lendo no computador. E ele eh muito engracado mesmo (duas pessoas sairam no meio da leitura, assim q elas fecharam a porta, ele soltou "motherfuckers"), tava todo nervoso e meio confuso com as pessoas tarem ali para ouvi-lo. Qualquer dia eu caso com ele. Abaixo uma das cartas de um &lt;a href="http://www.asofterworld.com/oqindex.php"&gt;projeto&lt;/a&gt; dele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje foi um dia confuso. Tivemos que apresentar o quanto fizemos do nosso projeto final no "spring break". A tutora-chefa deixou bem claro que eu nao tinha feito merda nenhuma em questao de visual, o que eh a mais pura verdade, mas pareceu feliz com o meu conceito. O David continuou me dando muito apoio e os outros alunos tambem pareceram gostar, entao me senti mais segura com a minha ideia pra finalmente produzir as paradas visuais, leia-se, levar minha bunda ateh as pontes e tirar fotos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aih tambem fiquei sabendo que minha oferta no apartamento que eu quero alugar foi recusada por que o dono nao quer alugar para uma estudante. O cara da agencia imobiliaria pos feh que convence ele do contrario e vamos recorrer. Odeio ficar na espera dessa mudanca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvi musicas legais no meu shuffle hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terminei Atonement. A segunda parte no livro tambem eh meio fraca se comparada a primeira, e o final achei melhor no filme. Agora vou encaixar na Virginia Woolf, que eu bem que queria ler umas outras coisas dela, mas como estou tentando ir pelos classicos, bora lah Mrs. Dalloway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Nintendo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing to apply for the position of game designer with your company. We have a chance here to help children experience games that are more true to life than any game before them. Computer graphics have improved and improved and improved, and some day soon we're going to have to ask ourselves where we can go next in our search for realism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need virtual pet games where you clean and feed and love your furry little friend and that car still comes out of nowhere so smoothly, a god of aerodynamics and passenger safety. Where you hear your father's quiet joke that night, when he thinks you are asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need a new Mario game, where you rescue the princess in the first ten minutes, and for the rest of the game you try and push down that sick feeling in your stomach that she's "damaged goods", a concept detailed again and again in the profoundly sex negative instruction booklet, and when Luigi makes a crack about her and Bowser, you break his nose and immediately regret it. When Peach asks you, in the quiet of her mushroom castle bedroom "do you still love me?" you pretend to be asleep. You press the A button rhythmically, to control your breath, keep it even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need an airport simulator, where the planes carry your whole family from A to B, job to job, and dad still drinks in the shower and your older sister still has casual sex that she confides might bring back a feeling she's certain she didn't imagine. Where the plane touches down and you all lean forward in your seats because of inertia, and again and again someone says "I hate to fly".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey Comeau&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4423685654336130391?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4423685654336130391/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4423685654336130391' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4423685654336130391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4423685654336130391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/when-i-play-doctor-i-play-to-win.html' title='when I play doctor, I play to win.'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7943358870985388979</id><published>2008-04-13T16:20:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T16:25:20.340+02:00</updated><title type='text'>in between</title><content type='html'>no momento eu tenho dois notebooks... Um de couro vermelho, com linhas, que eu usei durante a viagem da italia, e acho que por causa das linhas acabei escrevendo muito, e no qual ainda rabisco algumas lembrancas que me vem. E o meu classico moleskine, preto e sem linhas, com as ideias iniciais do meu projeto final, o qual eu ainda estou hesitando em abrir e comecar a escrever minhas novas ideias que talvez mudem todo o rumo do projeto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh parecido em estar num trem ou num aviao, jah ter saido mas ainda na ter chegado. bem proprio de domingo, que pra mim eh um dia de fim de semana mas que nao se pode dormir tarde, em que nao dah pra fazer muito nada mas se pode fazer tudo, nao eh nem como o sabado ou como a segunda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e acaba que esse vazio eh preenchido por fantasias bobas. nao estou sentindo o odio que costumo sentir pre-viagem, de querer que chegue logo, por que eu sei que o que vem em frente eh totalmente familiar, mas ainda sinto uma incerteza, uma duvida sobre possiveis mudancas. Acho que eh apenas uma indecisao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7943358870985388979?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7943358870985388979/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7943358870985388979' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7943358870985388979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7943358870985388979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-between.html' title='in between'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3837526937690895595</id><published>2008-04-12T15:35:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T16:03:19.447+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e digo mais</title><content type='html'>A gente deu muita sorte na italia. Soh choveu no primeiro e no ultimo dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ambos os dias estavamos em Roma. No primeiro estavamos num hotelzinho no Trastevere, com varanda e tudo, super gostosinho, todos refrescados e animados com a viagem e felizes de estar na Italia. No ultimo estavamos num hotel tosko chines perto da estacao de Termini, todos meios jah malucos pra voltar pra casa, ainda mais se eh pra pegar chuva, pode ser em qualquer lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viajar de trem na italia eh tudo mesmo. Descobrimos que o melhor eh mesmo pegar hotel perto da estacao de trem, que isso deixa voce aproveitar melhor tanto o dia da chegada quando o da saida da cidade (por que aih vc deixa as malas na portaria, vai aproveitar a cidade, e na hora de ir embora basta parar no hotel, pegar as malas e jah ir pra estacao de trem do lado). E as paisagens da janela trem sao um prazer totalmente a parte (eu agora procurando um apt novo, quero me manter ao sul do tamisa... Por que precisar cruzar ele praticamente todo dia eh bom demais, eh como ter uma vista bonita da sua janela sempre).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andar de trem me faz lembrar como eu realmente detesto aeroporto e avioes. As vezes eu fiquei enjoada com o balancar do trem, mas quando eu dormia era bom demais... E aviao eh sempre ruim, tao abafado, eu sempre fico levemente enjoada, mesmo tendo pego tantos voos na vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minha primeira viagem a Europa foi pra Italia, com meu pai e meus irmaos e minha amiga Cecilia, quando eu tinha 11 anos. Minha mae e minha avo de algum modo me convenceram que na Europa todo mundo andava arrumado e que de forma alguma eu podia ficar andando de jeans e camiseta, entao minha mala soh tinha roupas bonitinhas. As fotos sao otimas, eu sempre arrumadinha. Foi uma otima viagem, por que a italia eh muito europa mas ao mesmo tempo nao eh tao distante do Brasil, entao nao me choquei tanto e lembro de me divertir demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu lembrava muito pouco de Roma nessa viagem, lembrava do Colisseu e tudo mais, mas nada da cidade. Dessa vez eu entendi por que, Roma realmente nao me encanta tanto. Claro, amei tomar sol na Escadaria de Espanha e andar pelo Trastevere, e tem umas alamedas mega gostosas e em cada ruazinha surge uma igreja louca maravilhosa, mas sei lah, eh tudo meio cheio de turista demais pelo meu gosto. Me lembrou andar ali pelo centro de Paris, que eh lindo e tudo mais, mas sei lah. Eu ainda moraria facil num apartamentozinho em frente ao Panteao, mas soh assim. Acho que foi a regiao que eu mais gostei, com as ruazinhas mais pequenas. E por mais que eu reclame dos turistas, eu gostei muito deles, tem muito turismo interno e mesmo os de fora estao todos tao relaxados...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, um dia muito legal em Roma foi ficar pegando onibus aleatorios, ateh ir parar num lugar que nem ruinas tinha! O que eh algo que eu nunca faria sozinha, e tambem nao me sentiria muito segura de fazer soh eu e uma amiga. Viva minha neura de sexo fragil!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, de Roma fomos a Bolonha. Bolonha sim eu curti, pouco transito, pracas lindas, ruazinhas, igrejinhas, wi-fi de graca em todo canto, um monte de estudantes... E foi demais ir na Feira de Livros Infantis, minha admiracao por quem consegue ser ilustrador soh cresce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O melhor dessa viagem foi a falta de stress, jah que nos 3 estamos morando na Europa, nao rolava a neura de precisar fazer tudo, AGORA ou nunca mais. Entao mal fomos a museus, andamos muito, fizemos o que dava vontade, tomamos muito solzinho, tivemos refeicoes mega gostosas e longas, ficamos sentado soh apreciando a paissagem, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De Bolonha fomos passar um dia super eficiente em Verona, que eh lindinha, lindinha. Passei a mao no peito da Julieta. Eh engracado as memorias estupidas que ficam marcadas na nossa cabeca. Quando eu tava na setima serie, a gente leu Romeu e Julieta, uma adaptacao em prosa toska que foi fruto de uma de mil brigas que eu tive com a minha professora de portugues. Eu odiava essa professora, mas amava a bibliotecaria que era quem acabava dando mesmo as aulas de literatura pra gente. E eu lembro dela mostrando umas imagens pra gente, e uma hora ela mostrou a foto dessa estatua da Julieta em Verona, com  seio direito lustroso e dourado... Nao sei por que ficou marcado na minha memoria, foi muito legal ver ao vivo. Era chato o monte de gente em volta, mas sei lah, exatamente por que eu vim meio cedo pra Europa, tem poucos lugares que eu fiquei imaginando muito an minha cabeca antes de ver. Meio estupido que seja uma estatua boba, mas enfim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem dormimos em Verona, jah fomos pra Veneza. Veneza nao estava muito nos nossos planos inicialmente, jah que eu e Luisa jah tinhamos visitado. A Luisa bem recentemente, e pra mim eh com certeza a cidade que eu lembro mais vividamente da minha primeira viagem (como o Willie nunca tinha ido a italia, e,e tava feliz com qualquer coisa.. E a falta de stress ajudou muito, por que assim pudemos cortar a Toscana, que realmente exige um mes de viagens por ela soh). Mas Veneza nunca eh demais e lah fomos nos. Exatamente como eu lembrava, talvez menos fedida ateh, por que quando eu fui era alto verao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh estranho, a gente fez tanta coisa legal, mas pra mim um dos melhores momentos foi quando a gente tava com fome e decidimos simplesmente sentar na beira de um canal, comprar umas pizzas e umas cervejas e ficar ali conversando, perto de uma pontezinha. Veneza foi o lugar perfeito pra soh ficar andando e aproveitando os arredores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O grande problema de planejamento da viagem foi a ignorancia geografica mesmo. De Veneza decidimos ir a Genova, por que a Cla, uma amiga de muitos anos, esta mroando numa cidadezinha perto. E lah fomos nos pegar um trem de 4 horas, com troca em Milao (me arrependi de nao ter planejado direito e perdido a chance de visitar a catedral, snif). Na minha cabeca Genova devia ser o maximo, afinal, foi o grande porto da era das navegacoes, tava lah em todos os meus livros de historia. Na verdade a cidade nao tem muito coisa nenhuma e fede pra caramba. Pelo menos nao era tao absurdamente inclinada como o guia avisava e rolou uma feirinha de antiguidades simpatica, e a Cla eh demais mesmo, e lah finalmente bebemos sentados (em toda as outras cidades a gente sempre comprava as cervejas e ficava de peh na rua, olhando as pessoas em volta) e aih descobrimos que eles tambem sabem beber e rolava varios aperitivos legais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma coisa engracada que eu notei na italia, em especial em Bolonha, era as pessoas na balada com os cachorros. Por que realmente, eles vao e voltam andando do bar. Nao vao entrar em nenhum club nem nada. Por que nao levar o bicho pra esticar as pernas tambem? Adorei, varios cachorrinhos lindos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ufa, acho que eh isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3837526937690895595?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3837526937690895595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3837526937690895595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3837526937690895595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3837526937690895595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/e-digo-mais.html' title='e digo mais'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4988697220390311142</id><published>2008-04-12T15:20:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T15:35:43.435+02:00</updated><title type='text'>not blemishes. adornments.</title><content type='html'>Okay, vamos lah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ia comecar contando sobre o livro que eu estou lendo agora, "Atonement", mas aih pensei que nao seria justo nao comentar do livro que li na viagem da italia, "1984".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nao, eu nunca tinha lido antes. No colegial a minha odiosa professora de filosofia fez a gente ler "Utopia" que eh de um autor russo e de uma tematica muito proxima, e eu queria dar muuuuuuuuuuito tempo entre os dois livros (tmb nunca li a Revolta dos Animais, que a maioria dos meus colegas no Santa parecia jah ter lido no ginasio). Mas enfim, eu nao sabia que tinha uma personagem chamada Julia no livro ("uma rebelde da cintura pra baixo"). Nao consigo lembrar agora se jah tinha lido algum outro livro com personagens com meu nome (acho que a unica que eu lembro eh a namorada loira do Spike no Cowboy Bebop). Eu acho uma deveras coincidencia que eu tenha nascido em 1984 e tenha esse nome, mas meus pais nunca me falaram nada a respeito disso (por um momento eu penso que realmente meu pai lia muita ficcao cientifica, mas era mais Phillip K Dick... eu preciso ler mais Phillip K Dick... e Bradbury, caralho, outro dia eu tava lembrando de quando li Cronicas Marcianas uns anos atras, que livro monstruoso). Desde que eu me dou por gente eu sou amiga de outra Julia, era sempre Julia M e Julia C, e ateh depois apareceu a Julia B, mas eu sempre achei meu nome mega meu... Meu e da Julia C, mas sei lah. Enfim, 1984, muito bom, mesmo, eu gostei mais da mensagem perssimista dele do que qualquer outra coisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas enfim, Atonement. Eu vi o filme umas semanas atras, e eh um filme meio irritante, pq eh lindo, lindo, lindo, ma-ra-vi-lho-so. Eu nao sei do que eu gosto mais, das cenas da primeira parte da esqueleto lah com o vestido verde ou do shot unico na guerra. Eu gosto demais da narrativa da primeira parte, com os sons e tudo mais... A segunda parte eu achei meio sem ritmo, sei lah, e o final eh lindo tambem, com a reviravolta e tudo mais. Mas fora isso nao achei nada demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas agora lendo o livro, cara, esse McEwan eh um puto. O jeito que ele escreve eh tao perfeito, eh tao perfeitamente detalhado, ele transmite tao naturalmente as sensacoes... Dah quase vontade de dizer que o filme nao faz jus nenhum a narrativa dele, soh a parte visual mesmo. Eu ainda nao terminei, acabei de ler a parte da biblioteca... Eu ia dizer que adoro o jeito que ele descreve os sentimentos da Briony (que sao tao perfeitamente pre-adolescentes), mas os sentimentos do Robbie e da Cecilia, por mais que seja uma parada meio romantica-estupida, tambem sao descritos a perfeicao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto eu escrevia esse ultimo paragrafo na minha janela eu vi sol, chuva, sol, nublado, granizo e agora sol de novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, agora um post sobre a viagem a italia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4988697220390311142?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4988697220390311142/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4988697220390311142' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4988697220390311142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4988697220390311142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-blemishes-adornments.html' title='not blemishes. adornments.'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3705653662261567436</id><published>2008-03-19T22:38:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T22:43:35.519+01:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Don't Cry - The Magnetic Fields</title><content type='html'>Softly the crystals falling on 17th Street do their dance and die and are gone &lt;br /&gt;Millions of crystal balls roll around your feet and nothing gets done &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour goes by &lt;br /&gt;She doesn't &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't cry &lt;br /&gt;it isn't love &lt;br /&gt;If you don't cry &lt;br /&gt;then you just don't feel it deep enough &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dying all day in thousands of little ways &lt;br /&gt;Dancing alone and drinking a lot &lt;br /&gt;Closing the clubs and haunting the cabarets looking for what &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another five years off your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year goes by &lt;br /&gt;She doesn't&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3705653662261567436?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3705653662261567436/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3705653662261567436' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3705653662261567436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3705653662261567436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-you-dont-cry-magnetic-fields.html' title='If You Don&apos;t Cry - The Magnetic Fields'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6912494766360183940</id><published>2008-03-18T02:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T02:27:47.142+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Knives Out</title><content type='html'>Descobrir que toda propaganda que eu considerei realmente brilhante foi na verdade criada pelo Gondry e tambem eh dele todo um vide clip de um shot soh que me faz pensar quanto dinheiro eh posto nessas coisas e quaun criativo voce consegue ser com uma amiga me mandando os links enquanto eu ainda estou bebada de ter comemorado o Saint Patricks e virado sabe deus quantas guiness eu soh sei que eu tenho um chapeu e uma outra amiga recebe mensagens de texto surreais enquanto eu tenho uma ligacao que eu desejei por tanto tempo mas que nao sei direito o que fazer com ela agora mas me viro na medida do possivel e acabo por me satisfazer sozinha mas sem esquecer do outro(s).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6912494766360183940?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6912494766360183940/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6912494766360183940' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6912494766360183940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6912494766360183940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/knives-out.html' title='Knives Out'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3363617568613801456</id><published>2008-03-16T18:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T18:47:00.868+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I Fall To Pieces - Razorlight</title><content type='html'>Oh one more drink and then I'll go&lt;br /&gt;But there's one more thing I've got to know&lt;br /&gt;Does he take you places that I don't?&lt;br /&gt;What happened to the story that we wrote?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just say you don't know, you don't know&lt;br /&gt;Oh no you don't know, you don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh let's just get this whole thing straight&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna kidnap the truth and negotiate&lt;br /&gt;Or miss the point that they met you&lt;br /&gt;Just wanna hear you say something that you believe to be true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say you don't know, you don't know&lt;br /&gt;You just say you don't know, you don't know&lt;br /&gt;What it feels like&lt;br /&gt;What it feels like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I'll go before I fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'll go before I fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just waiting for something that might never come&lt;br /&gt;If it's a million to one shot I'll make sure I'm the one&lt;br /&gt;Seems that nothing is safe, except the truth turns to lies&lt;br /&gt;Never figured it out, I found out why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll go, yes I'll go&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'll go, yes I'll go&lt;br /&gt;Oh baby I'll go, oh yes I'll go&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'll go, oh yes I'll go&lt;br /&gt;Before I fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;Before I fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'll go before I fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'll go before I fall to pieces&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3363617568613801456?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3363617568613801456/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3363617568613801456' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3363617568613801456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3363617568613801456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/before-i-fall-to-pieces-razorlight.html' title='Before I Fall To Pieces - Razorlight'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6500522738897496831</id><published>2008-03-12T16:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T16:30:54.156+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ironic</title><content type='html'>Era para eu estar fazendo um monte de outras coisas mais importantes, mas nao estou conseguindo largar de lado esse quadrinho q eu comecei ontem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu vim aqui para escrever que eu dei pra gostar de Radiohead. Nao que eu nao gostasse deles antes, eu sempre gostei, sempre achei bom, mas nunca "bateu". Aih desde o comeco desse ano comecou a "bater", eh bizarro. Especialmente "my irons lungs", dificil explicar, mas eu acho que tem a ver com estar em Londres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu preciso confessar que eu gosto de semisonic. Eu nao sou muito de ter vergonha do meu gosto musical, mas porra, eh uma bandinha pseudo-pop onde-hit-wonder que ninguem mais lembra, mas sempre q vem no meu shuffle eu fico feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que eu ando viciada mesmo eh Magnetic Fields, que eh uma parada vergonhosamente indie, mas cara, eh demais, eu posso ouvir horas e horas o "69 love songs" e nao cansar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas enfim, xo terminar logo essa droga de quadriho pra poder fazer coisas uteis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6500522738897496831?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6500522738897496831/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6500522738897496831' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6500522738897496831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6500522738897496831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/ironic.html' title='ironic'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4953062586562269388</id><published>2008-03-08T20:10:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T23:13:24.570+01:00</updated><title type='text'>brand news all stars</title><content type='html'>Melhor comentario sobre Juno, pela Paula: "tudo era tao facil quando a gente tinha 15 anos, ateh gravidez precoce". Oh filme ruim meu deus, calculadamente indie demais, cheio de referenciazinhas a bandas e musicas "desconhecidas", tocando em varios assuntos interessantes sem se aprofundar direito em nenhum (outro comentario bom, da Luisa: parece um trailer)... Mas a trilha sonora eh maravilhosa e por isso eu perdoos os Danis de terem me indicado, eu vou acreditar que eh por que eles ficaram infatuados com as musiquinhas fofas. Se voce quer ver uma comedia sobre gravidez, vai ver Knocked Up, pelo amor de deus! (ah, os pais tmb sao demais, eu via um filme soh deles com a filhinha burrinha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Eu chorei em Be Kind Rewind, pq exprime tudo q eu acredito sobre artes criativas, q estupido)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu acordei com o peso da decisao de morar mais 3 anos aqui... Antes era um plano e nessa semana virou uma decisao a ser efetivada ateh o final da semana que vem (LCC ou Saint Martins?). Eu jah estou aqui a pouco mais de um ano (no Valentines fez 1 ano a operacao do meu dedao, ele ainda dobra de um jeito estranho), mesmo assim ainda nao conheco muita gente, nao conheco muito lugar, nao posso me considerar com uma vida social realmente ativa, mas como os parenteses acima expressam, estou cada vez mais apaixonada pelo caminho academico que eu escolhi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca falei das meninas da minha sala aqui, as que eu gosto de considerar a minha panelinha, eu adoro todas elas demais... Enfim, basicamente eh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joanna, alema de Berlin de descendencia greca e australiana, muito falante, muito confusa, muito intensa. Vai ir estudar Biologia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanessa, alema de Frankfurt, tem um processo criativo meio parecido com o meu, ainda mais no sentindo doq pretende fazer depois (misturar com video e musica e sei lah mais oq)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipa, portuguesa do Porto, fala palavrao ateh nao poder mais, muito engracada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anniekin ("yes, like Star Wars, everyone says that") norueguesa de Oslo, muito avoada e fofa, mais dislexica do que (eu tinha esquecido de pegar um papel na escola e mandei um SMS pedindo que ela fizesse o favorzao de pegar pra mim, e ela responde "sim, claro que eu faco, sem problemas. Mas quem eh? Eu perdi os contatos do meu celular!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katherine, inglesa de Londres, a mais timida mas vive rindo das nossas merdas, Como mora com os pais aqui em Londres, tudo que ela quer eh ir estudar em outra cidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aih tem a Akane, que eh uma japonesinha de Tokyo (q ateh estava no Fiji Rock quando eu tava lah!) que as vezes ronda a nossa mesa. E o pessoal da mesa ao nosso lado, o Alex, o Joao Pedro, Felix e Obey (a outra mesa perto da gente eh oq eu chamo de "cool kids", que eh um bando de inglesinhos loirinhos que todos os meninos parecem meninas e todo mundo se veste igual) Como as aulas sao basicamente vc ficar sentado na sua mesa trabalhando, as conversas entre a gente rendem muito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexta acabou o stress do portfolio e todo mundo ficou sabendo pra onde pode escolher ir... A Annie e a Filipa entraram na Chelsea e na LCC, e vao escoher ir pra LCC (eu achei engracado que todos os "cool kids" entraram na chelsea, oq meio demostrou meu ponto que eu nao ia conseguir conviver muito bem com as mesmas 50 pessoas por 3 anos), junto com a galera da outra mesa que tmb vai pra LCC. Eu e a Vanessa fomos aceitas na LCC e na Saint Martins e nenhuma de nos sabe pra qual prefere ir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, a Vanessa me chamou hoje pra ir shoeshopping no centro e acabamos pondo o stress das nossas decisoes pra fora, como eh bom conversar. Foi estranho ir pro centro, que eu normalmente evito a todo custo em fim de semana, e realmente ter uma tarde tranquila... Nao me ajudou a decidir nada, mas simplesmente falar tudo que tah entalado na sua cabeca eh muito bom. E aih tmb poder ficar falando com outra estrangeira de outro lugar o que a gente gosta e nao gosta de Londres, o que a gente consegue se acostumar ou nao, e como eh ter saudades dos amigos (eu realmente sinto muita pena de quem nao eh portugues e nao tem essa palavra... As palavras em ingles que eles usam implicitam tanta dor e sofrimento, enquanto o que eus sinto eh uma "falta" mas que nao necessariamente causa "dor")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora eu estou um pouco mais tranquila com a decisao de ficar aqui outros 3 anos, que eu vim pra morar aqui, nao pra estudar, e isso facilita tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como eu jah disse antes, um dia que vale a pena viver eh quando vc acorda pensando de um jeito e vai dormir pensando de outro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*http://ticianne.blogspot.com/2008/03/me-expor.html&lt;br /&gt;foi bom ser lembrada de pq a gente escreve blogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flower said, "I wish I was a tree,"&lt;br /&gt;The tree said, "I wish I could be&lt;br /&gt;A different kind of tree,&lt;br /&gt;The cat wished that it was a bee,&lt;br /&gt;The turtle wished that it could fly&lt;br /&gt;Really high into the sky,&lt;br /&gt;Over rooftops and then dive&lt;br /&gt;Deep into the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the sea there is a fish,&lt;br /&gt;A fish that has a secret wish,&lt;br /&gt;A wish to be a big cactus&lt;br /&gt;With a pink flower on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the flower&lt;br /&gt;Would be its offering&lt;br /&gt;Of love to the desert.&lt;br /&gt;And the desert,&lt;br /&gt;So dry and lonely,&lt;br /&gt;That the creatures all&lt;br /&gt;Appreciate the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the rattlesnake said,&lt;br /&gt;"I wish I had hands so&lt;br /&gt;I could hug you like a man."&lt;br /&gt;And then the cactus said,&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you understand,&lt;br /&gt;My skin is covered with sharp spikes&lt;br /&gt;That'll stab you like a thousand knives.&lt;br /&gt;A hug would be nice,&lt;br /&gt;But hug my flower with your eyes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4953062586562269388?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4953062586562269388/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4953062586562269388' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4953062586562269388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4953062586562269388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/brand-news-all-stars.html' title='brand news all stars'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2250279911318423274</id><published>2008-03-07T01:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T01:38:33.225+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing Keys - Jack Johnson</title><content type='html'>Don’t worry&lt;br /&gt;Everybody in the room notices you&lt;br /&gt;Sit back and relax &lt;br /&gt;The night is early&lt;br /&gt;We are about to overdo it&lt;br /&gt;So come and tell me something that you’ve already told me&lt;br /&gt;Cause everybody’s already heard our lovely stories&lt;br /&gt;I’m hoping some of them are true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been losing lots of keys lately,&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what that means &lt;br /&gt;But maybe I’ve been better off with things that can’t be locked at all&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been feeling kind of sea sick lately, &lt;br /&gt;See you reaching to me gonna save me &lt;br /&gt;You were me, I would much rather take the fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world has its ways&lt;br /&gt;To quite us down&lt;br /&gt;The world has its ways &lt;br /&gt;To quiet us down comes the rain&lt;br /&gt;Down comes our spirits again&lt;br /&gt;But Down comes the strength &lt;br /&gt;To lift us up and then…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been going up when now&lt;br /&gt;For to long&lt;br /&gt;Forget how&lt;br /&gt;To let go&lt;br /&gt;Seems to hard&lt;br /&gt;To late now&lt;br /&gt;To turn around&lt;br /&gt;The world has its ways&lt;br /&gt;To quite us down&lt;br /&gt;The world has its ways &lt;br /&gt;To quiet us down comes rain&lt;br /&gt;Down comes our spirits again&lt;br /&gt;Down comes the strength &lt;br /&gt;To lift us up and then…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2250279911318423274?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2250279911318423274/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2250279911318423274' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2250279911318423274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2250279911318423274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/03/losing-keys-jack-johnson.html' title='Losing Keys - Jack Johnson'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6357544910932353886</id><published>2008-02-22T15:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T15:42:03.171+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Danger - Bikini Kill</title><content type='html'>I said I wanna come over&lt;br /&gt;You said ok just come over&lt;br /&gt;Your friends are all on the couch&lt;br /&gt;Your friends said lets walk around&lt;br /&gt;Ill pretend your friends are my friends&lt;br /&gt;And kinda try not to offend them&lt;br /&gt;But I wont let you see anything real&lt;br /&gt;Let you know, theres limits to--&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;Its a predictable point of view&lt;br /&gt;This group dynamic caters to&lt;br /&gt;Its a particular point of view&lt;br /&gt;I think you know when it caters to you&lt;br /&gt;(and if you do know dont act like you&lt;br /&gt;Dont cuz its really annoying, and if&lt;br /&gt;You dont know, well, lets just say,&lt;br /&gt;Youre a lot lot stupider than I thought)&lt;br /&gt;Ill pretend your friends are my friends&lt;br /&gt;But I dont wanna hear you defend them&lt;br /&gt;In fact that kinda insults me and&lt;br /&gt;I kinda dont really wanna be here right&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking an hour ago, ago&lt;br /&gt;Ok: your whole thing put me in&lt;br /&gt;Negative space for way too long&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I managed to say during&lt;br /&gt;That time was i hate danger&lt;br /&gt;What I really should have said is&lt;br /&gt;Youre so not dangerous&lt;br /&gt;Youre so not what you say you are at all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6357544910932353886?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6357544910932353886/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6357544910932353886' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6357544910932353886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6357544910932353886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-hate-danger-bikini-kill.html' title='I Hate Danger - Bikini Kill'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6436580189081070978</id><published>2008-02-21T15:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:19:47.085+01:00</updated><title type='text'>flicks</title><content type='html'>eu tenho meio vergonha de escrever minhas opinioes de filme aqui por que eu sei que eu acabo metendo varios pseudo-conhecimentos meu de cinema que podem ser complemente toscos para mentes entendidas... mas eu preciso de um lugar pra anotar essas coisas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trindado do Philip Seymour Hoffman (engracado, o ultimo filme dele q eu tinha visto foi ele como vilao do Mission Impossible 3, q eh ateh bem legalzinho.. e outro dia peguei uma parte de "Along Came Polly" na TV e tinha ele de melhor amigo do Ben Stiller*):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charlie Wilson's War&lt;br /&gt;nha, meio americanoide demais (ninguem ria aqui na sala de cinema) mas eh legalzinho, e o Hoffman genial como sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Before The Devil Knows You Are Dead&lt;br /&gt;Hoffman absurdamente brilhante, a Marsa Tomei absurdamente ruim&lt;br /&gt;Trilha sonora ruim e desnecessaria, mas a sonoplastia (ou seja lah como se chama os barulhos de um filme) eh muito foda&lt;br /&gt;a evolucao do filme eh perfeita, cada vez vc vai achando todos os eprsonagens mais escrotos e ficando com mais odio deles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Savages&lt;br /&gt;muito, muito, muito bom. Se bobear meu favorito desses 3... eh meio indescritivel como eh perfeito esse filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Soh pra deixar comentado aqui, sabe aquele filme com o Stiller e o Edward Northon (ah, como eh bom que soh passa filme bom aqui na TV aberta... Vi uns pedacos de Kingdom of Heaven tmb outro dia) e aquela menina loira com nome de elfo... "Tenha Feh". Eu gosto muito desse filme, tem gente que odeia, mas a coisa que eu mais gosto dele eh uma cena que tem um casal na cama, e eh uma das cenas mais "reais" que eu jah vi de duas pessoas intimas e nuas numa cama... Eh soh um tocando o outro e conversando e brincando, eh toda fofinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, continuando... Ontem vi "There Wil Be Blood" e eu jah tinha visto "No Country For Old Men", e eu acho que prefiro o segundo, meio por que eu amei demais o roteiro-livro e acho que eu gosto da coisa de nao haver uma perfomance monstra. Mas "There Will Be Blood" eh realmente bom demais, eu fiquei mais impressionada com a atuacao do menino doq com a do Daniel Day-Lewis, mas pode ser por que eu jah tava totalmente preparada pelas reviews pro trabalho dele. No final do filme, quando comeca a ficar mais cenas internas (a luz das cenas externas eh fodissima... e as cenas no escuro, com petroleo, o Day-Lewis parece um demonio na escuridao...) eu comecei a pensar "po, nao toh gostando dessa metade final" mas aih o filme acabou e eu achei tudo a coisa mais genial do universo. Ah, e a trilha sonora, meu deus!!! Que absurdo, eu nunca vi uma trilha que ligava as cenas tao bem... Eu tenho vontade de soh "ouvir" esse filme, a Voz do Day-Lewis e do Moleque, as pedras, as respiracoes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No Country For Old Men" nao tem um errinho se quer na minha opiniao, eh perfeito demais... Eu especialmente gosto do personagem pequeno do Woody Harrison (escrevi errado) que voce basicamente veh em dois momentos, ele se achando o fodao e ele sabendo que vai morrer. Mas todas as cenas com o assassino sao boas demais... Pq os Cohen nao se matam logo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, agora filmes "antigos"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darjeeling... Eu gostaria de ter visto como uma peca de teatro. Talvez por ser inteiramente filmado em estudio, mas talvez por que a acao nao fosse muito importante.. muito coisa do diretor mesmo... mas tudo lindo e maravilhoso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eastern Promisses... Muito foda a cena da briga na sauna eh demais.. todas as cenas de violencia sao demais. Mas eu detestei o final, sei lah, piorou demais tudo na reta final... mas tem cenas fodissimas de qq forma e o Viggo tatuado eh tudo de bom, ovulei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje vou evr Sweeney Todd antes que sai de cartaz e amanha... Be Kind Rewind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso que ainda quero ver "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly"... E nao vi o "4 meses, 3 semanas...", nem o do Dylan (e nem o do Strummer by the way) nem o Things We Lost In The Fire (mas toh com o DVD de Attonement, e o livro pra ler tmb). E queria ter visto Michael Clayton... e quem sabe vou ver o Paranoid Park apesar da minha birra com o Gus Van Sant. Ah, e o Valley of Elah, que nem parece ser muito bom mas me falaram muito bem entao me sinto na obrigacao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ufa!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6436580189081070978?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6436580189081070978/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6436580189081070978' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6436580189081070978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6436580189081070978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/02/flicks.html' title='flicks'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7192770629854918038</id><published>2008-02-06T21:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T21:22:56.875+01:00</updated><title type='text'>back to the end</title><content type='html'>eu estou completamente apaixonada pelo meu shampoo novo pra "curly hair"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoje eu percebi que vou ficar acabada se eu nao entrar na LCC... Em parte por que vi que todo mundo que eu curto da minha sala vai prestar pra lah (a primeira opcao de todo mundo eh LCC, as segundas opcoes variam entre Chelsea e CSM, e eu continuo na duvida), em parte pq eu sei que essas pessoas sao muito talentosas... do the math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaaaah, fechaduras, fechaduras, personal statements!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7192770629854918038?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7192770629854918038/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7192770629854918038' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7192770629854918038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7192770629854918038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/02/back-to-end.html' title='back to the end'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-9004275640528448837</id><published>2008-01-29T20:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T21:09:39.315+01:00</updated><title type='text'>good life</title><content type='html'>Ando vendo filmes muitos bons, mas isso me deixa meio triste, dificil explicar...&lt;br /&gt;(oq me lembra: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFN27E34BKg, soh um cara desses pra fazer algo realmente interessante com essa baboseira viral online...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segunda eu fiquei mal de ver que nao ia ter capacidade de fazer os projetos que os tutores tavam pedindo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas hoje fiz uma coisa legal, uma colega perguntou se eu sabia usar Photoshop, eu disse que um pouco e perguntei o que ela tava querendo fazer "colocar varias imagens juntas", "na mesma pagina ou uma sobre a outra, criando transparencia?", "as duas coisas, eu nao sei nada!". Entao hoje fui feliz pra escola levando meu notebook apple novo (ateh q nao tah sendo tao dificil se adaptar a ele, especialmente tendo a Luisa do lado), sentamos na biblioteca e eu comecei a explicar o que eu sabia... E ela comecou a me explicar o que ela sabia. E acabou que eu mesma aprendi um monte de coisas. Foi muito engracado, por que sempre que uma de nos aprendia algo novo ficava uma meia hora de queixo caido "aaaaaah, entao dah pra fazer isso assim, muito mais facil!", e eram coisas tanto no Photoshop quanto no proprio note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E hoje teve a talk sobre a LCC, minha primeira opcao pro curso de graduacao de Design... E parece ser tudo que eu quero, soh me bateu um medo deles serem tao inovadores, mas tao inovadores, ao ponto de nao curtirem se eu tentar fazer algo mais simples ou tradicional. E pqp, gracas a deus eu vou ter direito a ser entrevistada, eu taria nervosa demais se fosse soh meu portfolio!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-9004275640528448837?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/9004275640528448837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=9004275640528448837' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9004275640528448837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/9004275640528448837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/01/good-life.html' title='good life'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2362247414094868880</id><published>2008-01-22T11:48:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:48:42.808+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tô</title><content type='html'>(Elton Medeiros - Tom Zé)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tô bem de baixo prá poder subir&lt;br /&gt;Tô bem de cima prá poder cair&lt;br /&gt;Tô dividindo prá poder sobrar&lt;br /&gt;Disperdiçando prá poder faltar&lt;br /&gt;Devagarinho prá poder caber&lt;br /&gt;Bem de leve prá não perdoar&lt;br /&gt;Tô estudando prá saber ignorar&lt;br /&gt;Eu tô aqui comendo para vomitar &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tô te explicando&lt;br /&gt;Prá te confundir&lt;br /&gt;Tô te confundindo&lt;br /&gt;Prá te esclarecer&lt;br /&gt;Tô iluminando&lt;br /&gt;Prá poder cegar&lt;br /&gt;Tô ficando cego&lt;br /&gt;Prá poder guiar &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devagarinho prá poder rasgar&lt;br /&gt;Olho fechado prá te ver melhor&lt;br /&gt;Com alegria prá poder chorar&lt;br /&gt;Desesperado prá ter paciência&lt;br /&gt;Carinhoso prá poder ferir&lt;br /&gt;Lentamente prá não atrasar&lt;br /&gt;Atrás da vida prá poder morrer&lt;br /&gt;Eu tô me despedindo prá poder voltar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2362247414094868880?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2362247414094868880/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2362247414094868880' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2362247414094868880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2362247414094868880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2008/01/t.html' title='Tô'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-860129724331978314</id><published>2007-12-07T23:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T23:57:18.832+01:00</updated><title type='text'>original sin</title><content type='html'>toh me sentindo meio doente, decido ficar em casa mexendo no computador e tomando cha. Eh obvio que eu acabo de derramar cha no teclado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e ele tvah escvrevendo assim agora, uma maravilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se eu passar for aceita na LCC ou na SCS, devo acabar por cometer uma heresia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-860129724331978314?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/860129724331978314/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=860129724331978314' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/860129724331978314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/860129724331978314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/12/original-sin.html' title='original sin'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6639370531710409903</id><published>2007-12-02T20:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T18:14:35.968+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Girl with the Thorn in Her Side</title><content type='html'>preciso pegar o habito de escrever aqui de novo... eh q eh tanta coisa pra contar q dah preguica.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6639370531710409903?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6639370531710409903/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6639370531710409903' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6639370531710409903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6639370531710409903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/12/girl-with-thorn-in-his-side.html' title='The Girl with the Thorn in Her Side'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7004145412556183336</id><published>2007-11-14T22:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T22:33:41.217+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Expo</title><content type='html'>Eu sei que eh estupido mas... Eu tiro um monte de foto pra todo santo projeto que eu faco do curso. E eu quero mostrar pro tutores preles me ajudarem a escolher. Soh que eu nao vou imprimir uma cagalhada de fotos toskas... E eh um saco carregar o note pra cima e pra baixo (estou cada vez considerando mais ter um note extremamente pequeno e portatil e um desktop) e botar no flashdisk nao adianta pq ainda nao vivemos num mundo q tem computador/monitor em qq canto. E aih eu lembro do modo de exposicao de foto do PSP, que guarda as fotos na resolucao original e ainda tem um zoom mega bacana. Saco de ipod com tela pequena.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7004145412556183336?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7004145412556183336/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7004145412556183336' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7004145412556183336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7004145412556183336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/11/expo.html' title='Expo'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8187690070921138330</id><published>2007-11-13T14:13:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T14:13:44.384+01:00</updated><title type='text'>maybe</title><content type='html'>e a coisa se complica... Pelo que eu entendo, em marco vai acontecer o "Compact".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Compact eu posso escolher ateh 5 faculdades entre as da "University of the Arts of London" (que tem 6 faculdades... mas na verdade eu soh devo escolher 3), sem ordem de preferencia, onde eu queira fazer meu BA (Curso Superior).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse compact eu vou ser entrevistada e as faculdades que quiserem podem me oferecer vaga nos cursos superiores delas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aih me dao uma semana preu decidir se e qual eu quero aceitar. A coisa eh que a partir do momento que eu aceitar uma vaga, pronto, eu nao posso pedir vaga em nenhum outro curso superior de design. Isso quer dizer principalmente eu nao vou ter nem como tentar vaga numa faculdade fora da Universiyt of the Arts of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outro problema eh que se ninguem me oferecer vaga, ou se a que eu mais quiser nao me oferecer vaga, as changes deu ser oferecida uma vaga em maio (que eh a epoca normal de se inscrever em faculdades) pela faculdade que jah me recusou no Compact sao proximas de nula. Entao basicamente se eu nao estiver preparada, o melhor eh nem tentar no Compact por que pode ser que eu esteja soh queimando meu filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Compact eh bem menos "competitivo", voce soh estah sendo comparado entre os alunos que jah estao fazendo algum curso dentro a University of Arts of London, a selecao em Maio eh bem mais rigida, mas voce tambem tem mais tempo de se preparar, e se deixa aberto a tambem ser aceito por faculdades de fora (que sim, tem varias que valem a pena).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha primeirissima opcao da vida eh a Central Saint Martins (q eh da UAL). Falam que eh o inferno lah, todo santo aluno eh metido a besta, muito simplesmente pelo fato de estar na CSM, a selecao dele eh mega rigorosa, entao acaba que quem tah lah eh bom mesmo, e o estudo eh bastante "self directed" (pouca paparicacao dos tutores, voce que tem q correr atras de tudo). E os "crits" (que eh a apresentacao dos trabalhos no final do projeto) sao descritos como uma metecao de pau generalizada. Uma beleza, soh sai fodao de lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que sim, na hora de contratar aqui (e imagino que em qq area de artes mesmo fora da inglaterra) vale muito mais se vc tem trabalhos bons ou nao no portifolio, e nao que faculdade voce tem no curriculo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(descrevendo a St Martins me lembra de quando eu tava prestando pra entrar no Santa... e eu acabei me fudendo, por mais q eu nao me arrependa de ter estudado lah, mas eu com certeza nao me sai bem e nao aproveite tudo que podia... Mas isso era escola, nao a faculdade q realmente me interessou na vida)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, nao sei o que vou fazer na epoca do Compact, depende de como estiver meu portifolio. E eu estou gostando demais da Chelsea, acho que talvez eu gostaria de ficar aqui. E parece que anda saindo muita gente boa da LCC, entao todas as opcoes sao felizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos proximos post: prova cientifica da minha dislexia, meu tutor favorito, meu projeto atual&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8187690070921138330?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8187690070921138330/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8187690070921138330' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8187690070921138330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8187690070921138330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/11/maybe.html' title='maybe'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-746994130098501823</id><published>2007-11-10T02:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T02:55:26.146+01:00</updated><title type='text'>little cry</title><content type='html'>Eu ando seriamente considerando dormir com tampoes de ouvido, e/ou uma operacao de ligacao de trompas. Toda vez que eu decido deitar pra dormir, o bebe do vizinho de cima comeca a chorar despesradamente. Eu durmo tranquilamente com o barulho dos carros  e ateh das sirenes nas ruas, mas esse choro nao dah. Saco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-746994130098501823?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/746994130098501823/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=746994130098501823' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/746994130098501823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/746994130098501823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/11/little-cry.html' title='little cry'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6891455773978773979</id><published>2007-11-02T13:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T13:08:19.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Paths</title><content type='html'>Eu gostaria de declarar que eu estou no futuro, ouvindo a palestra que eu perdi no comeco da semana no computador acompanhando no documento de powerpoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As palestras eram sobre as 5 areas das quais precisamos escolher uma para se especializar. Quem fez a palestra sobre "Visual Communication" eh uma das tutoras que eu mais gosto, e ela estah conseguindo citar simplesmente tudo que eu admiro (entre outras coisas, ela falou um bom tempo sobre o trabalho do Dave McKean, e deu a abertura de creditos dos filmes do Homem Aranha como exemplo de trabalho bem feito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu acho engracado a relacao dos educadores com computadores. Acho que eles tem muito medo de impor que voce tenha que saber usar computador para poder estudar. Na palestra sobre "Spatial Design" (que inclui arquitetura) frisaram que nao eh altamente necessario saber mexer em auto-cad... Acho que a ideia eh mesmo nao assustar ninguem, e nao impor um metodo unico, oq eh bem legal mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda preciso ouvir a paletra de "Media" (que eh a q eu toh realmente em duvida, entre Design e Media, mas estou pensando em deixar Media pra mais tarde), e nao sei se vou me dar ao trabalho de ouvir as palestras de "Fine Arts" e "Fashion Textiles".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6891455773978773979?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6891455773978773979/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6891455773978773979' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6891455773978773979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6891455773978773979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/11/5-paths.html' title='5 Paths'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2761858507223336633</id><published>2007-10-28T05:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T19:16:30.386+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Glorious Day</title><content type='html'>A primeira coisa que eu penso nao eh que eu vou ser a unica menina que vai cair na piscina, mas sim que meus dois irmaos estao lah, entao nao tem por que eu nao estar. Raras vezes eu me senti "menina" perto dos meus irmaos, acho que especialmente por que eu sempre tive essa nocao de que nao ha nada que ele possam que eu tambem nao possa. Entao o fato de ser a unica menina a cair na piscina soh me ocorreu depois que eu jah estava molhada junto com meus dois irmaos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu sinceramente nunca pensei que ia estar numa pista de danca cheia de gente de roupao de banho dancando "singing in the rain"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2761858507223336633?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2761858507223336633/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2761858507223336633' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2761858507223336633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2761858507223336633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/10/water.html' title='Glorious Day'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7447702413890029043</id><published>2007-10-15T18:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T18:20:18.071+02:00</updated><title type='text'>wonderfully sane</title><content type='html'>http://online.wsj.com/public/article/SB119214690326956694.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estao saindo muitas resenhas sobre a biografia do Charles Schulz (criador do Snoopy), inclusive com comentarios da viuva e da familia que de que ele nao era tao deprimido como o livro mostra. Enfim, saiu uma pelo criador do Calvin &amp; Haroldo, Bill Waterson, que eu estou linkando aqui sem ter lido ainda alem desse trecho abaixo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"I was struck less by the fact that Schulz drew on his troubled first marriage for material than by the sympathy that he shows for his tormentor and by his ability to poke fun at himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucy, for all her domineering and insensitivity, is ultimately a tragic, vulnerable figure in her pursuit of Schroeder. Schroeder's commitment to Beethoven makes her love irrelevant to his life. Schroeder is oblivious not only to her attentions but also to the fact that his musical genius is performed on a child's toy (not unlike a serious artist drawing a comic strip). Schroeder's fanaticism is ludicrous, and Lucy's love is wasted. Schulz illustrates the conflict in his life, not in a self-justifying or vengeful manner but with a larger human understanding that implicates himself in the sad comedy. I think that's a wonderfully sane way to process a hurtful world. Of course, his readers connected to precisely this emotional depth in the strip, without ever knowing the intimate sources of certain themes. Whatever his failings as a person, Schulz's cartoons had real heart."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7447702413890029043?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7447702413890029043/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7447702413890029043' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7447702413890029043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7447702413890029043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/10/wonderfully-sane.html' title='wonderfully sane'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4442407797740424950</id><published>2007-10-15T17:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T18:04:42.888+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Arty Porno Upfuck!</title><content type='html'>Incrivel como eu SEMPRE fico completamente deprimida e chorona nas noites de domingo. Eh o mesmo sentimento que eu tenho as vesperas de viagens, e faz eu me sentir como um marinheiro que enjoa no mar, mas eh oq acontece. E agora eu consigo confirmar que completamente independe mesmo de quaun boas sao minhas semanas. Tinha uma epoca da minha vida que tudo, literalmente tudo na minha vida estava bom e certo, menos a escola, onde eu tava perto de repetir de ano por nao conseguir compreender matematica (e nao, nao era q eu ficava fazendo tanta balada q isso prejudicava meus estudos, por mais q eu nunca tenha sido estupidamente dedicada a escola), entao era meio natural que a noite de domingo fosse deprimente. Apesar que esses meus "sunday's blues" vem desde muito cedo, muito provavelmente conectados ao fato deu ser uma pessoa muito mais ativa a noite, desde sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, fui pra Alemanha. Que eh tipo a Franca mas mais organizada e com homens ainda mais bonitos, e as pessoas sem se esforcarem tanto pra vestir bem, mas se vestindo bem.. Ok, nao eh tao parecido assim com a Franca. Mas assim que eu cheguei senti meio um clima q ia tomar esporro se fizesse algo errado e fiquei meio assim... Mas a verdade eh que todos os alemaes foram extremamente simpaticos, falam ingles na boa (catso de lingua dificil o alemao).. Isso em Colonia (Koln/Cologne) neh, que eh uma fofura e eu demorei meio ano pra me tocar que a Agua de Colonia teve origem lah. Enfim, espero que a Chaimo vah mesmo morar na Alemanha preu visitar bastante lah, adorei. Fiquei curiosa demais pra conhecer Berlim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As aulas tao fodas, a semana de design tah sendo totalmente "faz um troco legal ae" e os tutores dao dicas legais, e eu toh aproveitando ao maximo pq semana q vem comeca a etapa de "fine arts" na qual eu vou ficar completamente e totalmente perdida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adoro descobrir musicas no meu iPod, toh ouvindo OK GO, q eu acho que puxei do Gabriel, bom demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comecei a ler Crooked Little Vein, primeiro livro de prosa do Warren Ellis, um escritor de quadrinhos. Eu tenho um certo problema com a obra dele em geral por ela ser de certo modo repetitiva, nao que por isso seja menos genial. Mas eh tipo como se o Gaiman tivesse feito uma serie sobre o Sandman, e aih inventando um outro universo pra introduzir e ter historia com a Morte, e aih criado um outro quadrinho pra ter historia com o.. aquele cara lah q nao morre, e aih decidisse fazer uma minisseria contando historias do Shakespeare... Ele foi e pos tudo num mesmo universo/serie, contando varias historias diferentes. Eu sei q certas obras do Warren Ellis nao tem muito como coexistir, q ele inventa universos muito loucos e complexos (e geniais, again), mas se vc constantemente leh as coisas leh, eh como se uma coisa fosse eco da outra q fosse eco da outra... Apesar deu gostar demais de tudo q eu jah li dele. Enfim, CLV parece muito bom, apesar de q (desculpa comparar/citar de novo) eu me senti um pouco lendo American Gods, no sentindo de estranhar um escritor ingles contando uma historia tao americana com elementos totalmente sagrados aos Estados Unidos. Mas eh Warren Ellis, eh sujo, eh cheio de referencias pops nojentas, eh a realidade pervetida mas ainda real, eh bom demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No aviao eu li uma materia sobre um escritor, de origem pasquitanesa que mora em Londres mas morou grande parte da vida em Nova York. E no inicio havia uma citacao dele dizendo como as criticas americanas chamam ele de "american pakistani" e as inglesas de "pakistani" (apesar dele possuir um passaporte ingles, mas nao um americano), e ele diz como basta vc falar como um americano pra voce ser chamado de americano, mas jah pra ser chamado de europeu sao outros 500, jah q familias q vivem na inglaterra ha varias geracoes ainda sao indentificadas pela sua "tribo" de origem. Mas aih no final da materia ele diz que quando estah em NY, ele se sente muito paquistanes. Do que te chamam e o que voce sente sao coisas bem diferentes, e acho que pelo modo que ele fica ofendido de chamarem ele de paquistanes na Inglaterra, meio q demostra que ele se sente ingles de algum modo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esqueci de perguntar hoje na escola pra algum colega ou professor se "londoner" define alguem nascido em Londres ou que vive em Londres. Pelo modo que eu vejo utilizado nos jornais, me parece definir alguem que mora em Londres, mas queria esclarecer. Engracado, eu pelo menos, quando falo "paulista", estou claramente falando de quem nasceu em SP, quando quero falar de quem mora acabo falando mesmo "quem mora em Sao Paulo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, uma ultima coisa... Na faculdade ninguem tem a ilusao de decorar o nome uns dos outros, nem tutores nem alunos (os tutores mal se apresentam no inicio da aula, eu nao sei o nome de nenhum). Entao quando a professora tava fazendo duplas pro projeto de fotografia, ela tava apontando pros alunos e dizendo "voce, de camisa listrada, faz dupla com a menina de chapeu vermelho" etc... E aih quando ela apontou pra mim, ela disse "the girl with curly hair". CURLY! Eu sempre me descrevi naqueles deveres de casa chatos das aulinhas de ingles como tendo "wavy hair". Me zueram que eu fiquei traumatizada com a quantidade de loiros na sala, mas pra acharem meu cabelo curly, sei lah oq vao falar do cabelo da maioria dos meus amigos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4442407797740424950?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4442407797740424950/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4442407797740424950' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4442407797740424950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4442407797740424950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/10/arty-porno-upfuck.html' title='Arty Porno Upfuck!'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5808661527379470427</id><published>2007-09-30T22:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T23:18:38.708+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Mastodon Farm ~ Cake</title><content type='html'>Birds fall from the window ledge above mine.&lt;br /&gt;Then they flap their wings at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see birds fall from the window ledge above mine.&lt;br /&gt;Then they flap their wings at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;I can see their dead weight&lt;br /&gt;Just dropping like stones&lt;br /&gt;For small loaves of bread&lt;br /&gt;Past my window all the time.&lt;br /&gt;But unless I get up,&lt;br /&gt;Walk across the room&lt;br /&gt;And peer down below,&lt;br /&gt;I don't see their last second curves&lt;br /&gt;Toward a horizontal flight.&lt;br /&gt;All these birds just falling from the ledge like stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now due to a construct in my mind&lt;br /&gt;That makes their falling and their flight&lt;br /&gt;Symbolic of my entire existence,&lt;br /&gt;It becomes important for me&lt;br /&gt;To get up and see&lt;br /&gt;Their last second curves toward flight.&lt;br /&gt;It's almost as if my life will fall&lt;br /&gt;Unless I see their ascent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Cuts swatches out of all material.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Cuts swatches out of all material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birds fall from the window ledge above mine.&lt;br /&gt;Then they flap their wings at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;I said birds fall from the window ledge above mine.&lt;br /&gt;Then they flap their wings at the last second.&lt;br /&gt;But unless I get up,&lt;br /&gt;Walk across the room&lt;br /&gt;And peer down below,&lt;br /&gt;I won't see their last second curves&lt;br /&gt;Toward a, a horizontal flight.&lt;br /&gt;All these birds just falling from the ledge like stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now due to a construct in my mind&lt;br /&gt;That makes their falling and their flight&lt;br /&gt;Symbolic of my entire existence,&lt;br /&gt;It becomes important for me&lt;br /&gt;To get up and see&lt;br /&gt;Their last second curves toward flight.&lt;br /&gt;It's almost like my life will fall,&lt;br /&gt;My life will fall,&lt;br /&gt;Unless I see their ascent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Cuts swatches out of all material.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon farm,&lt;br /&gt;Cuts swatches out of all material.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon Farm,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Mastodon farm,&lt;br /&gt;Cuts swatches out of all material.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5808661527379470427?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5808661527379470427/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5808661527379470427' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5808661527379470427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5808661527379470427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/09/mr-mastodon-farm-cake.html' title='Mr. Mastodon Farm ~ Cake'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7863307653583768022</id><published>2007-09-27T19:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T19:30:17.984+02:00</updated><title type='text'>i see</title><content type='html'>pra variar vim pra casa pensando no onibus no post que eu ia fazer aqui, falando como tava tudo legal, mas minha cabeca anda meio ruim (oq ironicamente eh o oposto doq aconteceu no Brasil, onde tive duas semanas terriveis q eu soh aguentei pq tava com a cabeca boa estranhamente) e q entao eu ia reclamar da unica coisa errada na minha vida nova nesse apt novo, q eh a merda do onibus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas aih sentaram dois gauchos atras de mim, e eu cheguei em casa e a Luisa tava aqui e eu comentei isso com ela, e a gente conversou sobre um monte de coisas divertidas e eu esqueci todo o meu mal humor com o onibus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entao eh isso aih.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7863307653583768022?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7863307653583768022/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7863307653583768022' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7863307653583768022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7863307653583768022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-see.html' title='i see'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5129983133025828723</id><published>2007-09-15T03:55:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T03:58:41.722+02:00</updated><title type='text'>It is our right. It is our madness and our glory.</title><content type='html'>eu me desanimo a escrever quando me sinto repetitiva, ou q tudo q eu sinto jah estah escrito e perfeitamente espresso (expresso?) em varias obras (poemas, musicas, contos, etc..). Por mais q eu sei q oq eu sinto eh novo e genuino, eu nao me sinto capaz transformar em algo q eu sinta q faz jus a esses sentimentos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5129983133025828723?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5129983133025828723/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5129983133025828723' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5129983133025828723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5129983133025828723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/09/it-is-our-right-it-is-our-madness-and.html' title='It is our right. It is our madness and our glory.'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7811209472221405900</id><published>2007-09-06T05:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T05:16:44.924+02:00</updated><title type='text'>iSeed</title><content type='html'>Eu bem q estranhei, comprei o iPod de 80 gigas jah faz meses e nada da Apple lancar uma versao maior/melhor como ela sempre faz quando resolvo avacalhar e comprar mesmo o modelo mais caro disponivel. Mas eh obvio q a espertinha tava esperando eu voltar da china, onde ipod tem um preco absurdamente baixo, pra lancar a versao de 160.. Pq eu toh pouco me fudendo pro Touch lah da vida, tah q nem li a respeito, mas capacidade maxima de 16 gigas, sei lah, pega o iPhone logo.. E conexao Wi-Fi e telinha bonita eu jah pretendo conseguir com o PSP, q eu preciso descobrir se jah foi re-lancado com a nova bateria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, antes de tudo preciso arranjar HDs externos maiores...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7811209472221405900?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7811209472221405900/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7811209472221405900' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7811209472221405900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7811209472221405900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/09/iseed.html' title='iSeed'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2404057995221544960</id><published>2007-08-28T23:59:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T00:02:38.371+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rusted Gun of Milan - Art Brut</title><content type='html'>I know I can, I know I can&lt;br /&gt;I doesn't mean that I don't love you&lt;br /&gt;One more try with me above you&lt;br /&gt;It's got nothing to do with anything I had to drink&lt;br /&gt;It's more to do with the way I think&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on!&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on for me&lt;br /&gt;I know I can, I know I can&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, I'm so sorry&lt;br /&gt;Can I get you a cup of coffee?&lt;br /&gt;Don't tell your friends!&lt;br /&gt;I promise, it won't&lt;br /&gt;Ever happen again&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on!&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on for me&lt;br /&gt;It's frustrating for you&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's frustrating for me&lt;br /&gt;You're lying there&lt;br /&gt;And you're beautiful&lt;br /&gt;You're beautiful&lt;br /&gt;And of course I want to&lt;br /&gt;Why wouldn't I&lt;br /&gt;I doesn't mean I don't love you&lt;br /&gt;One more try with me above you&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on!&lt;br /&gt;Leave the lights on for me&lt;br /&gt;It's got nothing to do with anything I've had to drink&lt;br /&gt;It's something wrong with the way I think&lt;br /&gt;I know I can, I know I can&lt;br /&gt;I'm fine when I am with my own hands&lt;br /&gt;Never used my rusted gun of Milan &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(bah, pondo a letra assim nao tem muita graca, faca-se o favor de ouvir a musica)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2404057995221544960?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2404057995221544960/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2404057995221544960' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2404057995221544960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2404057995221544960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/rusted-gun-of-milan-art-brut.html' title='Rusted Gun of Milan - Art Brut'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8771335448157307696</id><published>2007-08-22T16:29:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T16:29:26.132+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace Cathedral Hill ~ The Decemberists</title><content type='html'>Grace Cathedral hill, all wrapped in&lt;br&gt;bones of a setting sun,&lt;br&gt;all dust and stone and moribund.&lt;br&gt;I paid twenty-five cents to&lt;br&gt;light a little white candle&lt;br&gt;for a New Year&amp;#39;s Day.&lt;br&gt;I sat and watched it burn away&lt;br&gt;then turned and weaved through slow decay.&lt;br&gt;We were both a little hungry,&lt;br&gt;so we went to get a hotdog,&lt;br&gt;down the Hyde St. Pier.&lt;br&gt;The light was slight and dissapeared.&lt;br&gt;The air, it stunk of fish and beer.&lt;br&gt;We heard a &amp;lt;b&amp;gt;superman&amp;lt;/b&amp;gt; trumpet play the National Anthem.&lt;p&gt;And the world may be long for you,&lt;br&gt;but he&amp;#39;ll never belong to you.&lt;br&gt;But on a motorbike,&lt;br&gt;when all the city lights blind your eyes tonight,&lt;br&gt;are you feeling better now?&lt;br&gt;Are you feeling better now?&lt;br&gt;Are you feeling better now?&lt;p&gt;Some way to greet the year:&lt;br&gt;your eyes all bright and brimmed with tears.&lt;br&gt;The pilgrims, pills and tourists here all sing&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Fifty-three bucks to buy a brand new halo.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Sweet on a green-eyed girl, all fiery&lt;br&gt;Irish clip and curl, all brine and piss and vinegar.&lt;br&gt;I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle.&lt;p&gt;And the world maybe be long for you,&lt;br&gt;but he&amp;#39;ll never belong to you.&lt;br&gt;But on a motorbike,&lt;br&gt;when all the city lights blind your eyes tonight,&lt;br&gt;are you feeling better now?&lt;br&gt;Are you feeling better now?&lt;br&gt;Are you feeling better now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8771335448157307696?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8771335448157307696/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8771335448157307696' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8771335448157307696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8771335448157307696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/grace-cathedral-hill-decemberists.html' title='Grace Cathedral Hill ~ The Decemberists'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2411637022350152091</id><published>2007-08-22T15:00:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T15:02:02.963+02:00</updated><title type='text'>we were both hungry</title><content type='html'>nada nem ninguem me impedira de fazer as duas viagens de mais de 10 horas de aviao de pijama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2411637022350152091?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2411637022350152091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2411637022350152091' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2411637022350152091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2411637022350152091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/we-were-both-hungry.html' title='we were both hungry'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7012005620979773796</id><published>2007-08-20T13:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T13:56:13.369+02:00</updated><title type='text'>learn to fly</title><content type='html'>Eu tenho dois tipos de sonho (pelo menos dos que eu lembro): com todas as pessoas que eu jah conheci na minha vida, ou com varias pessoas que eu nunca vi na vida. Eu nunca sonho "eu estava com a Luisa na rua e aih...", eh sempre "eu estava com a Luisa na rua, mas aih eu vi a Ana do outro lado da rua, e o Danilo apareceu e...". (eu realmente nao lembro de ter sonhos eu sozinha no mundo, mas eles devem existir).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que acaba acontecendo eh que eu tenho muitos sonhos que se passam em festas (no comeco do ano sonhei que estava numa festa e tudo comecava a dar errado, e aparecia o meu "crush" da epoca e resolvia tudo, e esse sonho me deixou extremamente deprimida pq pra mim representou como eu tinha expectativas surrealmente altas), e todo mundo estah na festa. Eu nao necessariamente vejo todo mundo, mas eu sei que todo mundo estah ali, desde a minha cozinheira ateh o meu professor de teatro do primario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umas noites atras sonhei que estava numa dessas festas que estah todo mundo, e comecava a surgir pessoas que tinham jogado Ragnarok comigo e elas eram todas de origem asiatica. Nada de muito estranho nisso, realmente boa parte das pessoas que eu conheci do jogo tinham algum sangue oriental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aih na noite seguinte sonhei que estava num campo de sobreviventes de um ataque de Zumbis. Esse sonho era meio dos dois tipos, pq na verdade era um seriado. Quando o seriado nao estava passando, eu conversava com meu irmao e outras pessoas sobre ele, mas quando o seriado comecava, eu estava nele e nao conhecia ninguem mais no tal campo de sobreviventes (apesar q eu tinha lah minha panelinha de amigos). Enfim, uma hora chegava um grupo enorme de chineses pra ficar no campo (que era uma cidadezinha inglesa, a gente tinha ateh deixado o pub intacto mesmo depois de varias batalhas contra os morto-vivos, e todo mundo dormia nos enormes saloes de uma escola) e nenhum deles sabia falar ingles e eles nao paravam de conversar entre si e era um saco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basicamente, eu cansei de olhar presse povo, quero ir pra casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just A Girl - No Doubt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this pink ribbon off my eyes &lt;br /&gt;I'm exposed &lt;br /&gt;And it's no big surprise &lt;br /&gt;Don't you think I know &lt;br /&gt;Exactly where I stand &lt;br /&gt;This world is forcing me &lt;br /&gt;To hold your hand &lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm just a girl, little 'ol me &lt;br /&gt;Don't let me out of your sight &lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite &lt;br /&gt;So don't let me have any rights &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...I've had it up to here! &lt;br /&gt;The moment that I step outside &lt;br /&gt;So many reasons &lt;br /&gt;For me to run and hide &lt;br /&gt;I can't do the little things I hold so dear &lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's all those little things &lt;br /&gt;That I fear &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm just a girl I'd rather not be &lt;br /&gt;'Cause they won't let me drive &lt;br /&gt;Late at night I'm just a girl, &lt;br /&gt;Guess I'm some kind of freak &lt;br /&gt;'Cause they all sit and stare&lt;br /&gt;With their eyes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, &lt;br /&gt;Take a good look at me &lt;br /&gt;Just your typical prototype &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...I've had it up to here! &lt;br /&gt;Oh...am I making myself clear? &lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl &lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl in the world... &lt;br /&gt;That's all that you'll let me be! &lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, living in captivity &lt;br /&gt;Your rule of thumb &lt;br /&gt;Makes me worry some &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, what's my destiny? &lt;br /&gt;What I've succumbed to Is making me numb &lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, my apologies &lt;br /&gt;What I've become is so burdensome&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a girl, lucky me &lt;br /&gt;Twiddle-dum there's no comparison &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...I've had it up to! &lt;br /&gt;Oh...I've had it up to!! &lt;br /&gt;Oh...I've had it up to here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7012005620979773796?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7012005620979773796/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7012005620979773796' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7012005620979773796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7012005620979773796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/learn-to-fly.html' title='learn to fly'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3672532154882937195</id><published>2007-08-10T15:40:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T15:40:03.396+02:00</updated><title type='text'>when the camera goes really big and it comes up out of the roof</title><content type='html'>Por algum motivo, nao sei se o mac ou a conexao chinesa, nao estou&lt;br&gt;conseguindo acessar nada do blogger...&lt;p&gt;Jah toh na China e ainda nao terminei de escrever sobre o Japao, fazer&lt;br&gt;oq neh, e ainda toh ansiosa pra chegar no Brasil, e ansiosa pra chegar&lt;br&gt;de volta em Londres, e ansiosa pras aulas... Eh a vida.&lt;p&gt;~&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;ve Seen It All (Dancer in the Dark)&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen it all&lt;br&gt;I have seen the trees&lt;br&gt;I have seen the willow leaves dancing in the breeze&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen a man killed by his best friend&lt;br&gt;And lives that were over before they were spent&lt;p&gt;Thom and Bjork:&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen what I was and I know what I&amp;#39;ll be&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen it all there is no more to see&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;You haven&amp;#39;t seen elephants, kings or Peru&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m happy to say I had better to do&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;What about China? Have you seen the Great Wall?&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;All walls are great if the roof doesn&amp;#39;t fall&lt;br&gt;The man you will marry, the home you will share&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;To be honest, I really don&amp;#39;t care&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ve never been to Niagara Falls?&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;I have seen water&lt;br&gt;It&amp;#39;s water, that&amp;#39;s all&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;The Eiffel Tower&lt;br&gt;And the Empire State&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;What else was a sigh&lt;br&gt;and what ails the state&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;Your grandson&amp;#39;s hand&lt;br&gt;As he plays with your hair&lt;p&gt;Bjork:&lt;br&gt;To be honest, I really don&amp;#39;t care&lt;p&gt;Thom and Bjork:&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen it all&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen the dark&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen the brightness in one little spark&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen what I choose and I&amp;#39;ve seen what I need&lt;br&gt;And that is enough&lt;br&gt;To want more would be greed&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen what I was and I know what I&amp;#39;ll be&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve seen it all there is no more to see&lt;p&gt;Thom:&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ve seen it all and all you have seen&lt;br&gt;You can always review on your own little screen&lt;br&gt;The light and the dark the big and the small&lt;br&gt;Just keep in mind you need no more at all&lt;p&gt;Thom and Bjork:&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ve seen what you were and know what you&amp;#39;ll be&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ve seen it all there is no more to see&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3672532154882937195?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3672532154882937195/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3672532154882937195' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3672532154882937195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3672532154882937195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/when-camera-goes-really-big-and-it.html' title='when the camera goes really big and it comes up out of the roof'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3896091795497388167</id><published>2007-08-08T15:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T15:42:53.176+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha Música - adriana calcanhotto</title><content type='html'>Minha música não quer ser útil&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser moda&lt;br /&gt;Não quer estar certa&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer ser bela&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser má&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer nascer pronta&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer redimir mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Nem dividir águas&lt;br /&gt;Não quer traduzir&lt;br /&gt;Não quer protestar&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer me pertencer&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser sucesso&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser reflexo&lt;br /&gt;Não quer revelar nada&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer ser sujeito&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser história&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ser resposta&lt;br /&gt;Não quer perguntar&lt;br /&gt;Minha música quer estar além do gosto&lt;br /&gt;Não quer ter rosto, não quer ser cultura&lt;br /&gt;Minha música quer ser de categoria nenhuma&lt;br /&gt;Minha música quer só ser música:&lt;br /&gt;Minha música não quer pouco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3896091795497388167?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3896091795497388167/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3896091795497388167' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3896091795497388167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3896091795497388167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/08/minha-msica-adriana-calcanhotto.html' title='Minha Música - adriana calcanhotto'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-539501368078232126</id><published>2007-07-29T04:50:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T12:56:04.368+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tokyo</title><content type='html'>Ok, jah q toh aqui morgando na internet, vou tentar contar um pouco de como anda essa viagem..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegamos eu e Gabriel em Tokyo, os primeiros do grupo a aterrisar no Japao. No aeroporto tinha bastante gente q falava ingles e a moca ainda conseguiu dar uma localizacao chutada do nosso hotel no mapa (enderecos de Tokyo nao fazem sentido algum). Pegamos o tal onibus e lah fomos nos. Ser analfabeta eh divertido demais, pq toda a poluicao visual da cidade (q eh enorme, e parece q jah foi pior) fica toda linda, pq pra gente sao soh desenhinhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nosso hotel ficava em Shibuya, q parece ser um dos bairros mais cool da cidade. Demos uma mega volta pra chegar no hotel, descobrimos q soh podiamos fazer o check-in dali a 4 horas, largamos as malas e fomos passear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tokyo tem os cruzamentos mais loucos do mundo, eh assim, uma hora passa os carros de lah, uma hora os de lah, e depois os de acola, e agora TODOS os pedesrtes passam ao mesmo tempo, em qq direcao q vc quiser. ENtao eh meio um cruzamento de carros q do nada vira uma praca copm um mundo de gente andando pra todo lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer descobrimos a "Love Hill", uma area de moteis... Descobrimos q eram moteis pq na tabela de precos tinha "rest" (q era de 40 minutos, certeiro e economico eh isso aih).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gracas aos ceus o Gabiel partilha do meu habito de consumir qts frappucinos sao humanamente possiveis, ainda mais no sol escaldante q tava na cidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolvemos dar uma olhada no shopping, conseguimos pedir mesa, comida e ateh perguntar qt tempo de espera soh em mimicas. Aih resolvi usar o banheiro e descobri q tinha um maquininha q fazia som de agua caindo, pra ajudar vc a fazer xixi (tinha mais de um som pra vc escolher no controle da privada).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monte de gente na rua distribuindo panfleto, e o mais legal eh q aqui o fato de vc ser claramente um estrangeiro AFASTA os vendedores e enchedores de saco em geral. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh estranho, aqui tenho uma sensacao parecida q tive na India, de ser gente demais, mas todo o resto eh completamente diferente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo achamos os fliperamas, todos fedendo a cigarro e com milhares de maquinas de Virtual Fighter 5 (nas quais vc pode desafiar outros jogadores) e de Pachinco (q eh tipo o caca-niqueis dele, soh q com bolinhas prateadas e completamente maluco e sem sentido) com temas de Evangelion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltamos pro hotel e encontramos todo mundo, e fiquei feliz de descobrir q nao sou soh eu q acho  unhas crescem mais rapido em aviao (ah e descobri q tenho o terrivel habito de pensar em quem nao pensa em mim em viagens de aviao).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fomos andar ainda mais, pelo meio das colegiais q estavam saindo das aulas... Pelo jeito soh tem escola feminina na area, pq mal vi meninos de gravatinha, soh meninas com aquelas roupinhas de marinheiro e as saias e lacos que variavam de tamanho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vi umas "go-gals" a varios cortes de cabelo que desafiavam a gravidade, e eh tudo como nos mangas mesmo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fomos no bairro mais agitado, ainda com sol, entramos numa das milhares galerias de lojas.. Quando saimos, estava escuro e as ruas estavam super cheias, e os neons, e as pessoas bebendo e passeando, tudo mudado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia seguinte fomos num bairro meio afastado que tinha as lojas de videogame, fomos numa loja chamada SUper Potato q tocava todos os temas de zelda e tinha todos os jogos antigos, famicons e tudo mais, muita muita maluquice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De noite tinha o show do Moreno, encontramos uns japoneses que falavam portugues na estacao de metro q tavam indo pro show tmb entao bastou segui-los. Tinha uma mesa de pingue pongue no camarim, muito divertido. O show foi lindo demais, logo no comeco ouvi uma japonesa berrando "bem vindos!" (com bastante sotaque), achei algo tao bonitinho de se dizer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aih eu desencanei de ir jantar e vim pro hotel dormir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dia seguinte, fomos pro Palacio Imperial bater peh no jardim, pena q quase tudo eh reconstruido pq foi destruido na guerra. Aih vimos q soh tinhamos andado de JR (trem) e decidimos pegar o metro ateh o bairro mais preservado-antigo da cidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O bairro eh muito legal, muito turistico e cheio de lojinhas, mas o templo era bem bonito e realmente tinha uma atmosfera diferente das outras regioes q tinhamos visitado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah, acho que troquei a ordem, acho q antes disso a gente visitou o Sony Building, com todas as invencoes da Sony, inclusive o proximo modelo do Vaio q eu com certeza vou comprar q eh lindo de morrer. E aih bateu fome e fomos num fast food japones chamado Lotteria muito bom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai o dia jah tava acabando, mas ainda queriamos ir no parque onde dizia no guia q era onde iam os "cosplayers", mas quando chegamos lah jah tava escurecendo e o parque tava fechado, mas deu pra ver umas pessoas "fantasiadas" na rua mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como estamos muito cansados, viemos pro hotel e decidimos pegar um taxi pro show. Como enderecos de Tokyo sao confusos, o cara acabou largando a gente no meio do nada, ficamos andando meio perdidos ateh o gabriel achar no bolso dele a comanda do dia anterior e aih mostrando prum outro taxista ele entendeu aonde queriamos ir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O show jah tinha acabado, estavamos acabados de cansaco, mas pelo menos tinha comida e bebida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a primeira fase, Tokyo, terminou aih q no dia seguinte fomos pro Fuji Rock q eu vou contar em outro post cheio de tietagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei lah, eh bem maluco mesmo tudo aqui, dificil explicar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: ah, numa loja de brinquedos eu comprei um bolo de pelucia, mas acabou q era um panninho dobrado em forma de pedaco de bolo, e eu toh aqui tentando compreender pq alguem compraria um paninho dobrado em forma de pedaco de bolo numa loja de brinquedos...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-539501368078232126?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/539501368078232126/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=539501368078232126' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/539501368078232126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/539501368078232126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/tokyo.html' title='Tokyo'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1535028312409507940</id><published>2007-07-22T22:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T22:55:14.989+02:00</updated><title type='text'>bye brain</title><content type='html'>meu cerebro estah derretendo, em dois dias vi "Die Hard 4.0" e "Transformers"... Eh bom aproveitar enquanto tenho companhia pra essas nerdices.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1535028312409507940?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1535028312409507940/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1535028312409507940' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1535028312409507940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1535028312409507940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/bye-brain.html' title='bye brain'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3113868265823604223</id><published>2007-07-21T23:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T23:31:58.047+02:00</updated><title type='text'>candy from strangers</title><content type='html'>Eu ia tentar esconder pelo bem de Londres, mas a verdade eh que me apaixonei um pouco por Madrid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho um pouco de dificuldade de entender os turistas que atulham o centro de Londres, eu acho que os museus sao sim essenciais de serem visitados e ver o parlamento eh uma coisa muito bonita e talz, mas nao consigo achar essa cidade especialmente "turistica", acho que tudo que ela tem de bom, eh bom pra se viver, nao pra visitar. Enfim, o jeito que ela se organiza, que soh se experimenta ficando aqui um tempo. E eu sempre gostei que aqui, ao inves de Paris, vc acaba fazendo as coisas cotidianas sem esbarrar em turistas toda hora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nao achei Madrid muito turistica tmb. A coisa toda dela ter sido escolhida meio do nada como capital pra mim dah todo um charme a ela. Mas ela nao tem mega construcoes nem nada, tem o palacio e os arcos e eh isso aih. E os museus, que sao demais, aih sim museus que voce nao pode morrer sem ter visitado. Mas eh isso, tem as pracas enormes, gostosas de ficar.. mas nao sei, nao senti um clima turistico na cidade. Claro que vi muito turistas, mas tmb vi muito locais. E andei pra todo canto, o metro pareceu ser muito bom e os onibus organizados, mas eh tao pequena, tem um tamanho muito certinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eh uma cidade noturna. Eu e a Julia saimos do albuergue umas 11 da manha, tomavamos cafe e tudo ainda fechado, morto, parado... Quando saimos do museu do dia, lah pras 4 da tarde, as coisas estavam comecando a se ajeitar (preciso dizer q nao vi a cidade 100%, no sentido q tinha muita coisa fechada por ser verao e a cidade nao depende tanto assim do turismo) e soh quando saimos pra jantar e beber, as 8~9 da noite que tudo parecia estar aberto mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As noitadas nao iam ateh tao tarde pq acabamos marcando mal as datas e soh ficamos lah dias de semana. E a Julia tem um "ritmo" muito parecido com o meu e nenhuma de nos estava mega afim de se acabar em algum clube pra assim ainda aproveitar na boa os museus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas caramba, era meio como se tivesse tudo de bom de Paris e tudo de bom de Londres, e ainda sendo norturna... Pq por mais q eu tente, eu realmente soh acordo ao meio-dia e soh tenho saco de sair a partir das 9 da noite (q eh o habito q mata minha vida social aqui em Londres).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E Madrid aperfeicou o ato de beber ao maximo... Nas pracas e ruas gostosas, com os tais tapas e tudo mais. Tudo perfeito, tudo. E carne! Ah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobrir lugares assim me deixa mais tranquila com a ideia de alugar um lugar aqui, pq comeco a gostar mais da flexibilidade q da estabilidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, soh pra nota, eu fiquei mais estupefada q eu esperava com Las Meninas... As Pinturas Negras eu jah tava totalmente esperando, mas acho que eu simplesmente tinha outra nocao de tamanho do quadro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E passar esses dias com a Julia foi tao surreal quando eu imaginava, depois de 5 anos sem nos vermos, sendo que nos conhecemos faz 20 anos (!!!!!). Foi surreal de ver que dividimos ideias muito parecidas, de como eh bom ter alguem pra conversar e q entenda oq vc diz. Enfim, dificil mesmo de explicar a ligacao q tenho com ela, e pra mim deu um novo significado pra "se um relacionamento nao caba mal, eh pq nao acabou". Eu fiquei meio preocupada de termos parado de nos falar, mas depois desse tempo eh como se esses 5 anos nem tivessem existido.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3113868265823604223?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3113868265823604223/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3113868265823604223' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3113868265823604223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3113868265823604223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/candy-from-strangers.html' title='candy from strangers'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8335000745652896043</id><published>2007-07-21T04:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T04:17:11.546+02:00</updated><title type='text'>not here now</title><content type='html'>meus posts andam uma merda, ainda nem escrevi sobre madrid, rever uma amiga, conclusoes da vida... e meu caderninho cheio de anotacoes. e duvido q tenha tempo antes de ir pro japao, quem sabe quando for lavar as roupas pra viagem.. me aguardem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8335000745652896043?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8335000745652896043/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8335000745652896043' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8335000745652896043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8335000745652896043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/not-here-now.html' title='not here now'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2635398038008191618</id><published>2007-07-21T04:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T04:16:41.919+02:00</updated><title type='text'>from the diaries of my other self</title><content type='html'>I'm still amazed by how much I didn't care and how much you did care. Was it the alcohol or are all human relations suppose to be this fucked up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2635398038008191618?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2635398038008191618/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2635398038008191618' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2635398038008191618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2635398038008191618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/from-diaries-of-my-other-self_21.html' title='from the diaries of my other self'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1927725254759618869</id><published>2007-07-20T18:41:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T18:41:43.164+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter</title><content type='html'>Sao quase 6 da tarde e ja estou na fila pro livro q sai a meia noite.&lt;br&gt;Sent using BlackBerry&amp;#174; from Orange&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1927725254759618869?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1927725254759618869/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1927725254759618869' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1927725254759618869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1927725254759618869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/harry-potter.html' title='Harry Potter'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7810271937555525977</id><published>2007-07-18T12:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T12:15:03.419+02:00</updated><title type='text'>teste</title><content type='html'>vendo se consigo postar via email, q agora com o blackberry me&lt;br&gt;permitiria postar do meu celular, oq ajudaria muito nessas viagens sem&lt;br&gt;notebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7810271937555525977?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7810271937555525977/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7810271937555525977' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7810271937555525977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7810271937555525977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/teste.html' title='teste'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3343073273417938149</id><published>2007-07-11T14:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T14:41:13.130+02:00</updated><title type='text'>this is me</title><content type='html'>Aceita na Chelsea, eu chego lah na metade do tempo q chegava na Camberwell, sendo q fisicamente eh 3 vezes mais longe, tudo pq fica perto de metro, q maravilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A entrevistadora foi mega simpatica e ateh disse que eu nao tinha sotaque de ingles americano quando eu disse que aprendi principalmente viajando ao colorado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caralho, Chelsea, vai ser foda, o esquema deles eh bem mais aberto e experimental, ele ateh chamam de "disgnostical foundation" ou algo assim q eu nao sei escrever. Lindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora Cascais, ver meu pai e meus irmaozinhos, ver como tah a casa, talvez dirigir um mini, aih Madrid com uma amiga que nao vejo a 5 anos mas tudo indica continua sendo a pessoa foda q eu conheco desde os meus 3 anos de idade, finalmente conhecer alguma coisa da Espanha, PRADO! ver os Goyas... PRECISO DE INDICACOES DE ALBERGUES!, volta pra Londres, vou com o Gabriel no lancamento mais histerico da historia de um livro, o setimo Harry Potter, eu estou me preparabdo pra ver meia duzia de criancas tendo ataques epileticos na fila pra saber se o Snape eh bom ou mal (bom) ou se o Harry morre ou vive (morre), aparentemente Die Hard 4.0 eh bom, ai Japao-China-Brasil com a menor mala do mundo, sem notebook, nao sei onde vou tacar as fotos da minha camera, melhor levar ao menos o HD externo com espaco de sobra, doidera total.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3343073273417938149?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3343073273417938149/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3343073273417938149' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3343073273417938149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3343073273417938149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/this-is-me.html' title='this is me'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1633240074214879764</id><published>2007-07-11T12:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T12:53:20.968+02:00</updated><title type='text'>nao falam, exalam</title><content type='html'>A Leda, q nao soh eh meu lado mulher, como tmb faz posts que deviam ser escritos por mim, mas nao sao pq eu sou incapaz, mas dizem exatamente oq eu sinto, e eh por isso q ela eh uma pessoa mui especial pra mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lembro de como ficava quando lia teu nome em algum lugar, esse carinho que não é teu,porque merecer ,não merece,parece vir de mim, sem razão .Lia em uma rua aqui,em uma loja ali,coisinhas que lembravam você .Lembro quando com você vi teu nome estampado em um livro,ai olhei você,olhei o nome,vi você,vi o nome,preferi o nome à você,mas como eu conseguiria ter tudo aquilo que era teu nome pra mim?o que amava era tua ideia e não você.Idéia  que parecia vir de mim sem razão,notei que sua importância era como uma metáfora em um romance,alterar não alterava os caminhos da história ,mas trazia todo um novo significado. Capaz de mover minah vida em silêncio,mas que você,você em si não tinha importancia nenhuma,mudei tanto por tua causa que se te contasse não acreditaria. Eu vi que você não era o motivo e eu nunca quis que você fosse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, o dragao ainda eh meu pra que eu o mate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1633240074214879764?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1633240074214879764/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1633240074214879764' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1633240074214879764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1633240074214879764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/nao-falam-exalam.html' title='nao falam, exalam'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-7312406759077266429</id><published>2007-07-10T18:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T18:42:54.661+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Weee</title><content type='html'>Feliz Aniversario pra Luisa!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.pixar.com/featurefilms/abl/images/chrs_tuck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.pixar.com/featurefilms/abl/images/chrs_tuck.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Vc sabe q vc eh um floco de neve quando vc decide procurar imagens do seu personagem favorito da pixar e descobre q elas simplesmente nao existem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring At The Sun # The Offspring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe life is like a ride on a freeway&lt;br /&gt;Dodging bullets while you're trying to find your way&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's around but no one does a damn thing&lt;br /&gt;It brings me down, but I won't let them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I seem bleak, well you'd be correct&lt;br /&gt;And if I don't speak, it's cause I get disconnected&lt;br /&gt;But I won't be burned by the reflection&lt;br /&gt;Of the fire in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I ran I didn't feel like a runaway&lt;br /&gt;When I escaped I didn't feel like I got away&lt;br /&gt;There's more to living than only surviving&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though you hear me, I don't think that you relate&lt;br /&gt;My will is something that you can't confiscate&lt;br /&gt;So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated&lt;br /&gt;By destruction in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I ran I didn't feel like a runaway&lt;br /&gt;When I escaped I didn't feel like I got away&lt;br /&gt;There's more to living than only surviving&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though you hear me, I don't think that you relate&lt;br /&gt;My will is something that you can't confiscate&lt;br /&gt;So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated&lt;br /&gt;By destruction in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe life is like a ride on a freeway&lt;br /&gt;Dodging bullets while you're trying to find your way&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's around but no one does a damn thing&lt;br /&gt;It brings me down, but I won't let them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I seem bleak, well you'd be correct&lt;br /&gt;And if I don't speak, it's cause I get disconnected&lt;br /&gt;But I won't be burned by the reflection&lt;br /&gt;Of the fire in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun (oh whoa oh oh)&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun&lt;br /&gt;As you're staring at the sun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-7312406759077266429?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/7312406759077266429/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=7312406759077266429' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7312406759077266429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/7312406759077266429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/weee.html' title='Weee'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-4576059075475082830</id><published>2007-07-09T02:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T02:05:06.737+02:00</updated><title type='text'>one may wonder...</title><content type='html'>Jah visitei 5 das 7 "novas maravilhas do mundo"... Talvez visite uma (Muralha da China) nos proximos meses, mas sinceramente, nao faco ideia do meu roteiro... E sinceramente, nao sei se algum dia planejo visitar a Jordania tao cedo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca visitei as piramides, ateh agora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sinceramente, das novas 7, 3 serem na America... Sei nao viu.. E obvio q achei tudo meio brega.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-4576059075475082830?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/4576059075475082830/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=4576059075475082830' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4576059075475082830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/4576059075475082830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/one-may-wonder.html' title='one may wonder...'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-71323360493602872</id><published>2007-07-06T17:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T17:20:25.257+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Some</title><content type='html'>Eu escrevi umas besteiras no meu caderninho (preciso lembrar de comprar um novo antes da viagem ao Japao), e ontem de noite fiz um desenho pra Luisa cheio de simbolos, e fico pensando pq eu tenho essa mania de simbolos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu odeio quando a beleza de uma obra depende apenas de algum conhecimento previo. Mas eu gosto de simbolos, acho que do mesmo modo que eu gosto de tradicoes. Mas sinceramente me irrita essa minha tendencia a romantizar cada acontecimento idiota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E no final eu escrevi "estou cansada dessas minhas meias-colicas e quase-paixoes".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sao as duvidas e indecisoes q nos matam pouco a pouco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-71323360493602872?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/71323360493602872/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=71323360493602872' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/71323360493602872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/71323360493602872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/some.html' title='Some'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2006051000238945057</id><published>2007-07-05T06:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T00:48:52.062+02:00</updated><title type='text'>July, July ~ The Decemberists</title><content type='html'>There is a road that meets the road&lt;br /&gt;That goes to my house&lt;br /&gt;And how the green grows there&lt;br /&gt;And we've got special boots&lt;br /&gt;To beat the path to my house&lt;br /&gt;And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I say your uncle was a crooked french canadian&lt;br /&gt;And he was gut-shot running gin&lt;br /&gt;And how his guts were all suspended in his fingers&lt;br /&gt;and how he held 'em&lt;br /&gt;How he held 'em held, 'em in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the water rolls down the drain&lt;br /&gt;The water rolls down the drain&lt;br /&gt;O, what a lonely thing&lt;br /&gt;In a lonely drain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July, July, July&lt;br /&gt;It never seemed so strange&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the story of the road that goes to my house&lt;br /&gt;And what ghosts there do remain&lt;br /&gt;And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house&lt;br /&gt;And the chickens how they rattle chicken chains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we'll remember this when we are old and ancient&lt;br /&gt;Though the specifics might be vague&lt;br /&gt;And I'll say your camisole was a sprightly light magenta&lt;br /&gt;When in fact it was a nappy bluish grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the water rolls down the drain&lt;br /&gt;The blood rolls down the drain&lt;br /&gt;O, what a lonely thing&lt;br /&gt;In a blood red drain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July, July, July&lt;br /&gt;It never seemed so strange&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2006051000238945057?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2006051000238945057/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2006051000238945057' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2006051000238945057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2006051000238945057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/july-july-decemberists.html' title='July, July ~ The Decemberists'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1923249923956893191</id><published>2007-07-04T19:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T19:05:05.249+02:00</updated><title type='text'>iPhone</title><content type='html'>nao, eu nao quero um iPhone, e citando o Warren Ellis "you can't fucking make me want one" ou voce deve esperar alguns anos, pq as primeiras versoes de produtos da apple nunca sao tao boas qt as q eles lancam logo depois, entao eu vou esperar. E ateh lah toh super feliz com meu blackberry q recebe e-mails da Ligia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas resolvi coletar minhas frases favoritas sobre o novo lancamento ateh agora:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;My old phone, one based on Windows Mobile 5.0, had almost every feature the iPhone has - point by point. The differences between the products (like the differences between their desktop cousins) have to do with how functionality is exposed to the user. In this matter, you'll find that Apple's product is almost infuriatingly superior.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The iPhone is, of course, equipped with email, and the default signature, “Sent from my iPhone” automatically shows up at the bottom of any messages you send from the phone. It is, of course, changeable. You can type in anything you want using the controversial keypad, and creative alternatives have already been appearing in my inbox. Please enjoy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sent from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;-Sent from my iPhone, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;-Sent from my $600 iPhone&lt;br /&gt;-Swnt elom m iphon&lt;br /&gt;-Sent from my ipwn&lt;br /&gt;-You’ve been iPhoned&lt;br /&gt;-I have more money than you&lt;br /&gt;-Sent from the Future&lt;br /&gt;-I have an iPhone. Now will you fuck me?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1923249923956893191?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1923249923956893191/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1923249923956893191' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1923249923956893191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1923249923956893191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/iphone.html' title='iPhone'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1331394828766146201</id><published>2007-07-02T02:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T02:34:12.485+02:00</updated><title type='text'>bifurcations</title><content type='html'>Durante muito tempo, se alguem me perguntasse se eu me arrependia de algo na minha vida, eu sabia a resposta exata (eu nunca consegui comprar direito essa de nunca de arrepender de nada... Tah, eu acho certo reconhecer q tudo na sua vida faz parte de vc e te forma, mas qq tem dizer q algumas coisas vc gostaria que tivessem acontecido de outra forma?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu me arrependo de ter dito "nao" ao Hugo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu tinha uns 8, 9 anos, eu fui para o Paiol Grande, uma colonia de ferias (acho q fui pra lah 3 julhos seguidos, e se nao me engano isso foi no segunda vez que eu fui). Eu tenho otimas lembrancas de lah, alguns colegas do colegio tambem iam, entao era uma mistura de passar tempo com seus velhos amigos e conhecer amigos novos. Eu lembro que ia soh um onibus do Rio, e quando chegavamos no acampanhamento, sempre jah tinham chegado uns 4 onibus de paulistas, que pulavam em cima da gente dizendo pra gente falar "porta" e depois sair gargalhando. E sempre tinha a excitacao de receber aquelas caixas enormes pelo correio, com cartas da familia e varios doces, que a gente dividia, e tinhamos q organizar nossas coisas e deixar a cama arrumada. E tinha os contos de terror da Velha da Gudeia, e os conselheiros que eram sempre muito legais, as brigas e os dramas com as meninas do mesmo chale, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu conheci esse Hugo durante uma das gincanas. Eles basicamente dividiam aquele bando de criancas em 4 times e acho q dessa vez a gente tinha que catar uns papeis q tavam espalhados pelo acampamento pra fazer um moisaco depois. Eu lembro de achar um "ninho" de papeis e logo ver um menino se aproximando, e eu estava pronta pra berrar que tinha visto antes ou algo mais agressivo, mas logo a gente viu que era da mesma equipe e comecamos a conversar enquanto catavamos papeizinhos juntos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nao lembro agora nada de como ele era fisicamente, acho que ele era loiro e bochechudo. Mas ele usava um bone  preto do "Mighty Ducks" (eu demorei pra superar esse meu gosto por meninos de bone...) e eu achava isso super legal. A gente passava um monte de tempo juntos, eu lembro de patinar com ele na quadra de esportes (eu lembro de tomar um tombo e fingir q nao tava doendo pra nao dar vexame), de dividir chocolate, de ficar sentado na arquibancada durante algum evento chato conversando. Minhas amigas zuavam que ele era meu namorado e eu ficava brava com elas. Um dia, antes do jantar, perto do campo de futebol, ele perguntou se eu queria namorar com ele e eu disse que nao, soh por que eu sabia que minhas amigas iam falar que ele era feio e eu era boba. E depois disso acho que a gente parou de se falar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ateh uns anos atras eu tinha plena certeza que esse era o maior arrependimento da minha vida, pq eu lembro exatamente dos meus sentimentos na hora que eu disse "nao", q eu queria muito dizer sim, e eu gostava muito dele, e eu disse que nao mesmo por puro medo da reacao das minhas amigas. Acho que nao eh a toa que na minha adolescencia uma das minhas grandes coisas era nao fazer nada soh por medo de reacao das outras pessoas (e com o tempo eu fui aprendendo q nao tem nada de errado vc se importar com a reacao das pessoas que voce ama).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a vida vai em frente e eu fui criando outros grandes arrependimentos, mas acho que nenhum tao "claro" como esse, com motivos tao obvios preu ter feito o contrario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acabei de ler "Ficcoes" e jah li "Historia Universal da Infamia", qual outra obra classica/famosa do Borges? Eu soh toh com o primeiro volume das obras dele aqui, os outros dois ficaram em Paris... "Historia da Eternidade" parece promissor...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1331394828766146201?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1331394828766146201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1331394828766146201' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1331394828766146201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1331394828766146201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/bifurcations.html' title='bifurcations'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-355310404125657409</id><published>2007-07-01T15:38:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T15:39:22.742+02:00</updated><title type='text'>from the diaries of my other self</title><content type='html'>shit&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-355310404125657409?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/355310404125657409/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=355310404125657409' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/355310404125657409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/355310404125657409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/07/from-diaries-of-my-other-self.html' title='from the diaries of my other self'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1761237275506508530</id><published>2007-06-27T23:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T00:36:57.151+02:00</updated><title type='text'>byebye blair</title><content type='html'>resumo do dia: chuva, orange filha da puta, andada no Regent Park do nada, ver branquelos ir bater bola, musicas boas no shufffle, filme muito bom com nome esquisito, garoto de all star vermelho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mushaboom ~ Feist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helping the kids out of their coats&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait the babies haven't been born oh&lt;br /&gt;Unpacking the bags and setting up&lt;br /&gt;And planting lilacs and buttercups oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in the meantime we've got it hard&lt;br /&gt;Second floor living without a yard&lt;br /&gt;It may be years until the day&lt;br /&gt;My dreams will match up with my pay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old dirt road,&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;knee deep snow&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;Watching the fire as we grow&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;o-o-o-o-old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a man to stick it out&lt;br /&gt;And make a home from a rented house oh&lt;br /&gt;And we'll collect the moments one by one&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's how the future's done oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many acres, how much light&lt;br /&gt;Tucked in the woods and out of sight&lt;br /&gt;Talk to the neighbours and tip my cap&lt;br /&gt;On a little road barely on the map&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old dirt road,&lt;br /&gt;mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;knee deep snow&lt;br /&gt;mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;Watching the fire as we grow,&lt;br /&gt;mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;o-o-o-o-old&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;Old dirt road rambling rose&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;Watching the fire as we grow&lt;br /&gt;(mushaboom, mushaboom)&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm Sold...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1761237275506508530?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1761237275506508530/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1761237275506508530' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1761237275506508530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1761237275506508530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/byebye-blair.html' title='byebye blair'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2217242441916410961</id><published>2007-06-27T13:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T13:46:33.318+02:00</updated><title type='text'>out of ideias</title><content type='html'>Eu sei q vcs vao achar q eh pura tietagem minha, mas no &lt;a href="http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/"&gt;blog do Neil Gaiman&lt;/a&gt; agora quem estah escrevendo eh a filha de 12 anos de idade dele, a Maddy, sobre a viagem deles para ver as filmagens do Hellboy 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nao diz nada demais sobre o filme, jah q tudo deve ser mega secreto, e acho q em parte por isso que o Gaiman pos a Maddy pra escrever, pq todas as outras vezes q ele foi numa filmagem os posts eram sempre "hoje eu vi um monte de coisa foda, mas eu nao posso contar nada, entao esse post nao vai ter nada".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh bem fofo ver ela escrevendo, pq ela escreve bem mas ainda como uma crianca ("I met more of the cast members today including Doug Jones who plays Abe. He is very nice but his costume is kind of smelly") entao sei lah, acho recomendavel pra quem gosta de criancas, mesmo sem saber quem o Gaiman eh (COMO ALGUEM PODE NAO GOSTAR DO GAIMAN?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: tadinha da esposa dela, ela nao soh nunca eh mencionada, como aparentemente todos os filhos do casal sao a cara dele (estranhamente o filho homem eh oq eu achei menos parecido com ele)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2217242441916410961?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2217242441916410961/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2217242441916410961' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2217242441916410961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2217242441916410961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/out-of-ideias.html' title='out of ideias'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8655379347553943788</id><published>2007-06-26T19:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T19:58:42.552+02:00</updated><title type='text'>shame on you</title><content type='html'>Eu sai de casa hoje pensando sobre desejar coisas... Se uma vida em q vc se liga menos a pessoas e coisas eh melhor ou pior...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eh claro q um aspecto disso eh sempre o consumismo, e fiquei feliz em constatar que ando bem menos consumista, ateh eu fico assustada de como comprei pouca coisa desde que me mudei pra Londres... apesar que sim, fiz questao de comprar/ganhar coisas caras, como meu Wii e minha maravilhosa estante/armario, mas toh menos "compradora de besteiras".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(btw, EU NAO QUERO NUNCA MAIS GANHAR ROUPA! E seguindo a ideia de promocoes da Luisa, cada amiga que vier me visitar em Londres ganha 10 pecas de roupas. Eu tenho roupas demais! Mas eu sempre acho que vou usar alguma e fico guardando, aaaah! Por favor, nao me deem roupa no meu aniversario ou no natal ou sei lah, me mandem livros pela amazon q eh melhor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E lah vou eu mudar minha conta de celular de pre-paga pra pos-paga pra poder fazer e receber ligacoes mais facil do Brasil e ter uma vida um pouco mais pratica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro eu chego na loja e descubro que tem uma promocao de ganhar um Nintendo DS Lite ao abrir uma conta pos-paga q soh vai durar ateh dia 30 de junho. Eu penso "uhu, jah ia abrir mesmo a conta, e ainda ganho um DS Lite!" (e claro, penso "serah q eles me dao na cor preto?").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aih falando com a mocinha ela diz que eu tmb ganho um aparelho novo... Soh q eu jah tenho um aparelho fodao (Nokia N80) e sou razoavelmente feliz com ele, soh a bateria dele q eh meio merda. E todos os aparelhos que eles tinham a oferecer eram piores que o meu... *menos* os BlackBerries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh claro q quando eu descobri q existiam BlackBerries q nao eram do tamanho de caminhoes eu pensei por um segundo em ter um, mas pensei q por mais q eu tenha um amor imortal por gadjets, era meio "over" eu ter um BlackBerry e talz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas eh de graca! (claro, ateh o momento q eu me toquei q teria q pagar 10 libras a mais por mes pra poder usar as funcoes de blackberry do celular, mas ateh aih eu jah tinha me vendido pra ideia e me fudi)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pra piorar a mocinha me fala q o roaming nao vai funcionar no primeiro mes, talvez nao funcione ateh o 3 mes pq a minha conta de banco eh nova demais entao o credito nao eh confiavel... vsf... eu podia ficar mais uns meses no pre-pago e soh soh mudar pra pos-pago quando eles jah me garantissem roaming, mas aih eu perderia a promocao do DS Lite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entao basicamente eu continuo sendo uma idiota consumista com dinheiro demais e cerebro de menos, e a prova disso eh eu estar publicando essa grande vergonha da minha vida na internet. Eh q tmb me poupa de passar vergonha toda vez q me perguntarem pq eu tenho um Blackberry e um DS Lite (sendo q eu jah tinha um DS... mas o meu era velho... a bateria durava pouco e nao era tao bonito...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deuses, eu me odeio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8655379347553943788?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8655379347553943788/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8655379347553943788' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8655379347553943788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8655379347553943788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/shame-on-you.html' title='shame on you'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5034653007592543935</id><published>2007-06-24T02:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T02:23:53.512+02:00</updated><title type='text'>England goes smokefree on July 1st</title><content type='html'>Vou te contar viu, esses ingleses sao muito bobinhos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lah fui eu pegar meu amado onibus numero 3, e como meu Oyster (o passe-unico londrino mas q eh unico de verdade) tava sem credito, eu tentei pagar com uma nota de 10 libras... O motorista nao tinha troco, entao oq ele fez? Pediu preu preencher um papelzinho com meu nome e endereco (q eu podia ter escrito qq coisa), e aih me deu um canhoto no qual eu afirmava q ia pagar a tarifa de duas libras um outro dia em outro lugar lah, em pelo menos 1 semana. Coisa de doido, vou te contar. Ainda toh pensando se dou o calote na rainha, se esse lugar for muito longe fudeu... Mas vou ver se dah pra pagar numa estacao de metro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fora isso toh me sentindo muito inglesa pagando tudo com meu cartao ingles, qq bostinha eu pago com esse equivalente de visa-electron, q nem eu sempre vi meus amigos fazerem e soh ficava chupando o dedo. Mui divertido, agora preciso ver se ele funciona online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fora isso tudo continua igual, todo mundo bem-humorado, criancinhas fofas, turistas irritantes, tempo mudando toda hora, lojas especificas pra cada santa coisinha, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A primeira das minhas muitas compras hoje (a maioria de coisas de casa mesmo, jah q o Matheus aparentemente se mudou pra casa da namorada na minha ausencia) foi "Ulysses" do James Joyce... Jah fazia um tempo q eu tava enrolando pra comprar, e preciso dizer q o fato da descricao dele na estante da Waterstones ser "the everest of english literature"  nao me deixou exatamente animada, mas bora lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ainda toh penando pra terminar "Catch 22", q eu juro q gostaria de estar adorando pq varios autores q eu amo citam ele como um livro genial.. E realmente, tem umas ideias muito fodas, umas passagens hilarias, e o jeito meio caotico do cara escrever combina demais com o livro... Mas eu toh ficando cansada de ler a mesma historia 300 vezes! Jah deu! Eu ri do Milo falando do sindicato ("everybody has a share!") nas primeiras 50 vezes, as outras mil encheram meu saco...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai se unir a "Macunaima" na lista de livros q eu gostaria de ter gostado, mas nao gostei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jah que estou falando de livros, eu tava limpando meu livrinho de anotacoes e achei uma frase de algum conto do Borges que eu gostei: "tal como agora o empobrece (tal como agora o purifica) meu esquecimento". Ok, em contexto ficava melhor, vai ler Borges voce entao, te garanto q eh bem mais facil e gostoso q o "Catch 22".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5034653007592543935?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5034653007592543935/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5034653007592543935' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5034653007592543935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5034653007592543935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/england-goes-smokefree-on-july-1st.html' title='England goes smokefree on July 1st'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2371659803136013784</id><published>2007-06-23T04:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T05:02:32.356+02:00</updated><title type='text'>seedkeeper's changes</title><content type='html'>Um tempo atras vi o casting pro filme do "Northern Lights" (a tal trilogia do Phill Pullman q eu tava falando um tempo atras). E eu soh nao digo q eh o casting mais perfeito da historia pq eu recentemente descobri q chamaram o Sawyer (do Lost) pra fazer o Gambit dos X-men. E pq a menina q faz a Lyra tem cara de paty demais. Mas fora isso, eh tudo mais q perfeito... A Nicole Kidman fazenda a vila-charmosa, o novo Bond fazendo o cara durao, e a mulher mais linda do mundo, a Eva Green, faz uma bruxa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa parte da historia desses livros se passa num universo em que as pessoas possuem Daemons, q sao tipo uma externalizacao da alma das pessoas. Eh meio dificil de explicar, mas basicamente todo ser humano possue um bicho... Esse bicho pode trocar livremente de forma ateh a crianca alcancar a puberdade, quando ele adota uma forma fixa (eu toh muito curiosa pra ver como vao fazer isso no filme). O Daemon de uma pessoa normalmente eh do sexo oposto a ela, e os dois nunca podem se afastar muito (porem as bruxas conseguem). E existe um "tabu" quanto a tocar o Daemon de outra pessoa, nem mesmo em guerras os soldados tocam os daemons uns dos outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No final do terceiro livro, as duas criancas principais se apaixonam (isso nem eh spoiler direito, vai), elas ainda estao na fase em q os Daemons delas trocam de forma o tempo todo. Aih tem uma cena muito bonita em q uma toca o daemon da outra, e a partir daih vc sabe q eles nao vao mais mudar de forma, pq querem manter essa forma q sentiu o toque da pessoa amada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2371659803136013784?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2371659803136013784/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2371659803136013784' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2371659803136013784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2371659803136013784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/seedkeepers-changes.html' title='seedkeeper&apos;s changes'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5850676962820834271</id><published>2007-06-22T11:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T11:58:39.131+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Back Home</title><content type='html'>E lah vou eu outra vez...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei aqui, nubladissimo... mas como sempre o tempo daqui com seu ritmo rapido de alguma forma consegue se sincronizar comigo, e o ceu foi abrindo no caminho de casa, ateh eu chegar no apt e estar com todas as janelas transbordando de sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cansada, horario de merda esse voo q eu peguei, vou ficar com o fuso totalmente zuado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sinceramente, toh impressionada em como deixei esse lugar arrumado, q bom q diminui minha preguica de desfazer as malas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Modern Love # Bloc Party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be lost in the forest&lt;br /&gt;To be cut adrift&lt;br /&gt;You've been trying to reach me&lt;br /&gt;You bought me a book&lt;br /&gt;To be lost in the forest&lt;br /&gt;To be cut adrift&lt;br /&gt;I've been paid&lt;br /&gt;I've been paid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get offended&lt;br /&gt;If I seem absent minded&lt;br /&gt;Just keep telling me facts&lt;br /&gt;And keep making me smile&lt;br /&gt;Don't get offended&lt;br /&gt;If I seem absent minded&lt;br /&gt;I get tongue-tied&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you've got to be more discerning&lt;br /&gt;I've never known what's good for me&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you've got to be more demanding&lt;br /&gt;I will be yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll pay for you anytime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me you wanted to eat up my sadness&lt;br /&gt;Well jump on, enjoy, you can gorge away&lt;br /&gt;You told me you wanted to eat up my sadness&lt;br /&gt;Jump right&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you've got to be more discerning&lt;br /&gt;I've never known what's good for me&lt;br /&gt;Baby, you've got to be more demanding&lt;br /&gt;Jump left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you holding out for?&lt;br /&gt;What's always in the way?&lt;br /&gt;Why so damn absent-minded?&lt;br /&gt;Why so scared of romance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This modern love breaks me&lt;br /&gt;This modern love wastes me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you wanna come over and kill some time?&lt;br /&gt;Tell me facts, tell me facts, tell me facts&lt;br /&gt;Tell me facts&lt;br /&gt;Throw your arms around me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5850676962820834271?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5850676962820834271/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5850676962820834271' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5850676962820834271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5850676962820834271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/e-lah-vou-eu-outra-vez.html' title='Back Home'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1196298194736654444</id><published>2007-06-22T11:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T11:56:55.457+02:00</updated><title type='text'>from the diaries of my other self</title><content type='html'>Ladies and gentlemen, please stand up. I'm here to thank you for your compliments. I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1196298194736654444?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1196298194736654444/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1196298194736654444' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1196298194736654444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1196298194736654444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/from-diaries-of-my-other-self.html' title='from the diaries of my other self'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6219850445253643156</id><published>2007-06-17T19:10:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T23:39:46.556+02:00</updated><title type='text'>gringa</title><content type='html'>xo tentar parar se soh postar musicas e escrever algo de minimamente relevante...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmmmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dificil.. eh obvio q quando eu toh deitada na cama eu penso em um bilhao de coisas geniais pra escrever mas quando acordo preciso esperar o cerebro ligar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quinta vou pra Londres. Volto no final Agosto pra pegar meu visto de estudante, se tudo for nos conformes. E m outubro passo aqui de novo pro casamento... E em dezembro, natal, ano novo, etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise You ~ FatBoy Slim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've come a long long way together,&lt;br /&gt;Through the hard times and the good.&lt;br /&gt;I have to celebrate you baby,&lt;br /&gt;I have to praise you like I should.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6219850445253643156?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6219850445253643156/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6219850445253643156' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6219850445253643156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6219850445253643156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/gringa.html' title='gringa'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-1140302625338166686</id><published>2007-06-14T05:20:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T23:02:35.994+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokerman ~ Bob Dylan</title><content type='html'>Standing on the water, casting your bread&lt;br /&gt;While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing&lt;br /&gt;Distant ships sailing into the mist&lt;br /&gt;You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing&lt;br /&gt;Freedom just around the corner for you&lt;br /&gt;But with truth so far off, what good will it do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So swiftly the sun sets in the sky&lt;br /&gt;You rise up and say goodbye to no one&lt;br /&gt;Fools rush in where angels fear to tread&lt;br /&gt;Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don't show one&lt;br /&gt;Shedding off one more layer of skin&lt;br /&gt;Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a man of the mountain, you can walk on the clouds&lt;br /&gt;Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister&lt;br /&gt;You're going to Sodom and Gomorrah&lt;br /&gt;But what do you care ? Ain't nobody there would want marry your sister&lt;br /&gt;Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame&lt;br /&gt;You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy&lt;br /&gt;The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers&lt;br /&gt;In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed&lt;br /&gt;Michelangeo indeed could've carved out your features&lt;br /&gt;Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space&lt;br /&gt;Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame&lt;br /&gt;Preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain&lt;br /&gt;Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks&lt;br /&gt;Molotow cocktails and rocks behind every curtain&lt;br /&gt;False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin&lt;br /&gt;Only a matter of time 'til the night comes stepping in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a shadowy world, skies are slippery gray&lt;br /&gt;A woman just gave birth to a prince today and dressed him in scarlet&lt;br /&gt;He'll put the priest in his pocket, put the blade to the heat&lt;br /&gt;Take the motherless children off the street&lt;br /&gt;And place them at the feet of a harlot&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Jokerman, you know what he wants&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Jokerman, you don't show any response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune&lt;br /&gt;Bird fly high by the light of the moon&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-1140302625338166686?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/1140302625338166686/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=1140302625338166686' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1140302625338166686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/1140302625338166686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/jokerman-bob-dylan_14.html' title='Jokerman ~ Bob Dylan'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-5008850153003255005</id><published>2007-06-13T23:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T05:39:05.033+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday ~ Tori Amos</title><content type='html'>Nothing here to fear&lt;br /&gt;I'm just sitting around&lt;br /&gt;being foolish when&lt;br /&gt;there is work to be done&lt;br /&gt;Just a hang-up call&lt;br /&gt;and the quiet breathing&lt;br /&gt;of our Persian we call&lt;br /&gt;Cajun on a Wednesday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we go from year to year&lt;br /&gt;with secrets we've been keeping&lt;br /&gt;Though you say you're not a Templar man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems as if we're circling&lt;br /&gt;for very different reasons&lt;br /&gt;But one day the Eagle has to land&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out past the fountain&lt;br /&gt;a left by the station&lt;br /&gt;I start the day in the usual way&lt;br /&gt;Then think -- well why not --&lt;br /&gt;and stop for a coffee&lt;br /&gt;then begin to recall&lt;br /&gt;things that you say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one's at the door&lt;br /&gt;You suggest a ghost&lt;br /&gt;perhaps a phantom&lt;br /&gt;I agree with this in part&lt;br /&gt;Something is with us&lt;br /&gt;I can't put my finger on --&lt;br /&gt;is Thumbelina size 10&lt;br /&gt;on a Wednesday --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we go from year to year&lt;br /&gt;with secrets we've been keeping&lt;br /&gt;Though you say you're not a Templar man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you tell me to cheer up&lt;br /&gt;you suspect we're oddly even&lt;br /&gt;Even still the Eagle has to land&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out past the fountain&lt;br /&gt;a left by the station&lt;br /&gt;I start the day in the usual way&lt;br /&gt;Then think -- well why not --&lt;br /&gt;and stop for a coffee&lt;br /&gt;then begin to recall&lt;br /&gt;things that you say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pluck up the courage&lt;br /&gt;and snap&lt;br /&gt;It's gone again&lt;br /&gt;I start humming "When Doves Cry"&lt;br /&gt;Can someone help me&lt;br /&gt;I think that I'm Lost here&lt;br /&gt;Lost in a place called America&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-5008850153003255005?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/5008850153003255005/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=5008850153003255005' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5008850153003255005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/5008850153003255005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/wednesday-tori-amos.html' title='Wednesday ~ Tori Amos'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6818022638658420260</id><published>2007-06-12T17:27:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T05:40:10.845+02:00</updated><title type='text'>saints and sinners</title><content type='html'>eu oficialmente declaro que eu encontrei o site mais bizarro q eu jah encontrei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu sei q eu adoro ficar enchendo o saco dos meus amigos (especialmente os homens, e especialmente o suza) com pintos cortado ao meio/fora e outras merdas que eu encontro no ModBlog. Eu considero isso um exercicio da minha nocao de normalidade (eu realmente gostaria de encontrar um site sobre abstinencia q nao me irritasse nas primeiras 3 linhas), de procurar compreender comportamentos estranhos a mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas a perola que eu encontrei hoje eh um site de pessoas tendo orgasmos. nao, nao eh um site de pessoas transando, eh um site com videos de pessoas, soh do pescoco pra cima, gozando. aparentemente a internet tmb serve pra isso, para pessoas se filmarem (ou deixarem-se ser filmadas) gozando e dividirem com outras pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olhando um pouco o site (eu passo pra quem pedir) na verdade eu fiquei meio decepcionada com a conotacao erotica dele no "about", mas enfim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu lembro de muito tempo atras discutir com a Luisa de como "petite mort" era eufemismo para gozar, mas "little death" ser um eufemismo para dormir/sonhar, e q isso dizia bastante sobre as culturas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu lembro a primeira vez que eu presencie alguem gozando e pensei q ele na verdade estava morrendo de ataque cardiaco ou algo assim, eu me assustei muito. ainda me assusta as vezes, mas obvio q sempre de uma forma positiva.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6818022638658420260?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6818022638658420260/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6818022638658420260' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6818022638658420260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6818022638658420260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/saints-and-sinners.html' title='saints and sinners'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2463081981574925732</id><published>2007-06-12T12:35:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T05:40:43.265+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sinners and saints</title><content type='html'>infeccao urinaria, uhu! pelo menos explica as dores no rim do ultimo mes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm, tiramisu!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2463081981574925732?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2463081981574925732/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2463081981574925732' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2463081981574925732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2463081981574925732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/sinners-and-saints.html' title='sinners and saints'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-847915511346575381</id><published>2007-06-11T06:40:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T06:45:15.574+02:00</updated><title type='text'>someday</title><content type='html'>pq cargas d'agua eu tenho essa facilidade de me amaravilhar com as pessoas? acho q eu penso q essas pessoas acharam uma solucao otima pra vida, e eu tmb quero aprender a viver assim, e q isso deve funcionar pra mim tmb. ateh eu entender q essas pessoas nao tem uma grande solucao pra nada, q elas soh vivem do melhor jeito q conseguem, feito todo mundo, ateh aih eu jah fiz delas minhas amigas eternas (e aprendo mesmo muitas coisas com elas, querendo ou nao) ou pra sempre me arrependo de nao te-las conhecido melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nao eh tao ruim isso, mas essa sensacao de amaravilhamento com uma pessoa me incomoda, pq oq vem depois eh sempre decepcao... nao uma puta decepcao horrivel e dolorosa, as vezes eh soh "ah, ela tmb chora as vezes" ou "ele tmb tem saudades", mas lah se vai minha ideia q alguem ia me ensinar a viver de um jeito mais facil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-847915511346575381?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/847915511346575381/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=847915511346575381' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/847915511346575381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/847915511346575381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/someday.html' title='someday'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-6552735051414540521</id><published>2007-06-11T04:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T04:35:19.917+02:00</updated><title type='text'>bad lies that make me laugh</title><content type='html'>Acordei, minha mae me deixou perto do cemiterio preu fotografar a Luzia pintando um muro com os amigos, Chaimo me pegou e fomos pro metro, desci no MASP pra encontrar com o Lys e o Ingo, enfrentei a multidao pra achar a Mag e o Somalia, andei com eles e aih fomos jantar na liberdade, mas a tempo deu chegar em casa pro sushi e ver fotos antigas com meu irmao e a noiva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na parada do orgulho gay (fico meio revoltada q a sigla, GLBT, agora exclua os simpatizantes mas enfim) eu e Mag espertamente decidimos usar os banheiros do Cine Unibanco. Tinha uma certa filinha, mas nada demais. Na fila dos homens tinha uma pessoa q realmente parecia uma mulher, tipo, verdadeiramente, e se ela fosse mesmo ela era ainda mais sagaz q eu e a Mag, pq a fila dos homens andava mais rapido, mas ninguem tava afim de questionar o sexo de ninguem. Na fila das mulheres, logo na nossa frente, tinha um homem (perna peluda, volume no shortinho) vestido de mulher, maquiado e tudo mais. Tranquilo. Uma hora chegou um engravatado-organizador, e eu vi ele cutucar essa pessoa e indicar a fila dos homens. Eu nao ouvi oq ele tinha dito, mas ouvi um claro e direto "Nao." como resposta. Aih o cara comecou a reclamar que a agua estava acabando e q era pra todo mundo maneirar na desgarga ou algo asssim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu concordo que eventos desse tipo muitas vezes funcionam como um tiro no peh, no qual se vc faz tanta questao de se afirmar algo, vc inevitavelmente acaba discriminado por isso. Eh tipo a coisa de existir Dia da Mulher e dia do Meio Ambiente, enquanto a gente precisar de eventos desse tipo pra nos lembrar da nossa propria ignorancia, eh um indicio q tem algo errado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh dificil explicar, mas eu acho que a parada gay ainda faz mais bem que mal. Acaba sendo uma festa promovida por um bom motivo (e achei fofo eles incluirem machismo e racismo no slogan), ganhando um tom muito pouco agressivo, q normalmente eh o problema dessas coisas. Enfim, nao consigo explicar mesmo, eu mesma acabo indo acho q mais pra comemorar minha propria tolerancia (por mais q ela infelizmente nao seja completa) e nao a da sociedade em geral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, gracas a minha mae agora eu recebo horoscopo diario no email, beware!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Letra: Leonard Cohen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hallelujah_%28song%29"&gt;(essa musica tem duas letras distintas)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've heard there was a secret chord&lt;br /&gt;That David played, and it pleased the Lord&lt;br /&gt;But you don't really care for music, do you?&lt;br /&gt;It goes like this&lt;br /&gt;The fourth, the fifth&lt;br /&gt;The minor fall, the major lift&lt;br /&gt;The baffled king composing Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your faith was strong but you needed proof&lt;br /&gt;You saw her bathing on the roof&lt;br /&gt;Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you&lt;br /&gt;She tied you&lt;br /&gt;To a kitchen chair&lt;br /&gt;She broke your throne, and she cut your hair&lt;br /&gt;And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say I took the name in vain&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know the name&lt;br /&gt;But if I did, well really, what's it to you?&lt;br /&gt;There's a blaze of light&lt;br /&gt;In every word&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter which you heard&lt;br /&gt;The holy or the broken Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best, it wasn't much&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch&lt;br /&gt;I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you&lt;br /&gt;And even though&lt;br /&gt;It all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand before the Lord of Song&lt;br /&gt;With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby, I've been here before.&lt;br /&gt;I know this room, I've walked this floor.&lt;br /&gt;I used to live alone before I knew you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I've seen your flag on the marble arch,&lt;br /&gt;But listen, love is not some kind of victory march,&lt;br /&gt;No it's a cold and it's a very broken Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, (Hallelujah...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time you let me know&lt;br /&gt;What's really going on below,&lt;br /&gt;Ah but now you never show it to me, do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah but I remember, yeah when I moved in you,&lt;br /&gt;And the holy dove, she was moving too,&lt;br /&gt;Yes every single breath that we drew was Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there's a God above,&lt;br /&gt;As for me, all I've ever seemed to learn from love&lt;br /&gt;Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah but it's not a complaint that you hear tonight,&lt;br /&gt;It's not the laughter of someone who claims to have seen the light&lt;br /&gt;No it's a cold and it's a very lonely Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best, it wasn't much.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch.&lt;br /&gt;I've told the truth, I didn't come all this way to fool you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah even tough it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand right here before the Lord of Song&lt;br /&gt;With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-6552735051414540521?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/6552735051414540521/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=6552735051414540521' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6552735051414540521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/6552735051414540521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/bad-lies-that-make-me-laugh.html' title='bad lies that make me laugh'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-3178086202709331237</id><published>2007-06-10T07:18:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T07:20:03.064+02:00</updated><title type='text'>like a kid lost in a sunflower field</title><content type='html'>Uma noite dessas eu sonhei q estava numa cidade, e na borda do cemiterio todo mundo empinava pipas, pq era a unica area sem fios de eletricidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A droga da tatuagem continua cocando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever Lost ~  Magic Numbers &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darling, what you gonna do now&lt;br /&gt;Now that you noticed&lt;br /&gt;It all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;I've been, I've been thinking&lt;br /&gt;That you don't know me anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let the sun be the one&lt;br /&gt;To change you baby&lt;br /&gt;I wanna learn how to lie&lt;br /&gt;If I'm to know&lt;br /&gt;Cos I wanna go where the people go&lt;br /&gt;Cos I'm forever lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darling, what you gonna say now&lt;br /&gt;Now that you noticed&lt;br /&gt;It all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I'm driving&lt;br /&gt;My friends all crazy&lt;br /&gt;They say that they don't know me anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let the sun be the one&lt;br /&gt;To change you baby&lt;br /&gt;I wanna learn how to lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm to know&lt;br /&gt;Cos I wanna go where the people go&lt;br /&gt;Cos I'm forever lost&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah I'm forever lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like it all went wrong [x4]&lt;br /&gt;What am I to do&lt;br /&gt;What am I to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't let the sun be the one&lt;br /&gt;To change you baby&lt;br /&gt;I wanna learn how to lie&lt;br /&gt;If I'm to know&lt;br /&gt;Cos I wanna go where the people go&lt;br /&gt;Cos I'm forever lost&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah I'm forever lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darling what you gonna do now&lt;br /&gt;Now that you noticed&lt;br /&gt;It all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;Now that you noticed&lt;br /&gt;Now that you noticed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-3178086202709331237?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/3178086202709331237/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=3178086202709331237' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3178086202709331237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/3178086202709331237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/like-kid-lost-in-sunflower-field.html' title='like a kid lost in a sunflower field'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-2937237949320322335</id><published>2007-06-05T20:30:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:35:51.262+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Swallow</title><content type='html'>Fiz minha tatuagem. E cara, vai se fuder, tatuagem eh bem pior que scarification. Doi absurdamente ficar sentindo as agulhinhas (parte da asa da andorinha vai na minha clavicula). Eu tava com medo de viciar na "facilidade" da coisa, mas com certeza soh vou fazer outra tatuagens se realmente necessarias (tipo a andorinha africana no outro ombro). E depois fica ardendo um ardido estranho e a pele expele parte da tina, um nojo. Serio, a familiaridade do meu corpo com o processo de cicatrizacao fez com q, por mais q dosse e tudo mais, nao sentia q nada era estranho. Vou bater nas proximas pessoas q perguntarem pq eu soh nao fiz tatuagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fiz uma andorinha pq eu queria fazer uma tatuagem-tatuagem mesmo, nao uma imagem legal ou coisa parecida. E tem a coisa dos marinheiros, e nao sei mais oq, falta de saco pra explicar pq a porra do meu ombro tah ardendo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Banda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estava à toa na vida&lt;br /&gt;O meu amor me chamou&lt;br /&gt;Pra ver a banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Cantando coisas de amor&lt;br /&gt;A minha gente sofrida&lt;br /&gt;Despediu-se da dor&lt;br /&gt;Pra ver a banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Cantando coisas de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O homem sério que contava dinheiro parou&lt;br /&gt;O faroleiro que contava vantagem parou&lt;br /&gt;A namorada que contava as estrelas parou&lt;br /&gt;Pra ver, ouvir e dar passagem&lt;br /&gt;A moça triste que vivia calada sorriu&lt;br /&gt;A rosa triste que vivia fechada se abriu&lt;br /&gt;E a meninada toda se assanhou&lt;br /&gt;Pra ver a banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Cantando coisas de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O velho fraco se esqueceu do cansaço e pensou&lt;br /&gt;Que ainda era moço pra sair no terraço e dançou&lt;br /&gt;A moça feia debruçou na janela&lt;br /&gt;Pensando que a banda tocava pra ela&lt;br /&gt;A marcha alegre se espalhou na avenida e insistiu&lt;br /&gt;A lua cheia que vivia escondida surgiu&lt;br /&gt;Minha cidade toda se enfeitou&lt;br /&gt;Pra ver a banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Cantando coisas de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas para meu desencanto&lt;br /&gt;O que era doce acabou&lt;br /&gt;Tudo tomou seu lugar&lt;br /&gt;Depois que a banda passou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E cada qual no seu canto&lt;br /&gt;Em cada canto uma dor&lt;br /&gt;Depois da banda passar&lt;br /&gt;Cantando coisas de amor&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-2937237949320322335?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/2937237949320322335/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=2937237949320322335' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2937237949320322335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/2937237949320322335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/swallow.html' title='Swallow'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35070512.post-8898118170585356239</id><published>2007-06-03T08:40:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T08:46:22.863+02:00</updated><title type='text'>soul and fire</title><content type='html'>eu fui num casamento e eu peguei o buque. indiretamente. eu fiz um acordo com uma prima que tinha um pistolao. oq importa eh q eu fiquei com metade do buque. e q minha familia eh muito legal (ambas). e familia eh o fio em q vc segura no labirinto q eh a vida. entao foda-se se eu fico resmungando q as coisas nao dao certo pra mim, eu tenho primas e nao sei mais oq muito legais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu fico verdadeiramente feliz em ver pessoas felizes ao meu redor. casamentos sao otimos por causa disso, estah todo mundo tao incondicionalmente feliz. eu realmente precisava disso. e me toquei q eu sou o maior arroz de festa pra casamentos, pq mesmo morando fora ha mais de um ano, eu compareco a todos os casamentos. e isso me faz feliz, essa energia positiva hippie e nao sei oq mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a clara eh o maximo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu preciso ir num casino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open Your Eyes - Snow Patrol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this feels strange and untrue&lt;br /&gt;And I won't waste a minute without you&lt;br /&gt;My bones ache, my skin feels cold&lt;br /&gt;And I'm getting so tired and so old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The anger swells in my guts&lt;br /&gt;And I won't feel these slices and cuts&lt;br /&gt;I want so much to open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Cos I need you to look into mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that you'll open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get up, get out, get away from these liars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos they don't get your soul or your fire&lt;br /&gt;Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine&lt;br /&gt;And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every minute from this minute now&lt;br /&gt;We can do what we like anywhere&lt;br /&gt;I want so much to open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Cos I need you to look into mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that you'll open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this feels strange and untrue&lt;br /&gt;And I won't waste a minute without you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35070512-8898118170585356239?l=dancingwm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/feeds/8898118170585356239/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35070512&amp;postID=8898118170585356239' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8898118170585356239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35070512/posts/default/8898118170585356239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dancingwm.blogspot.com/2007/06/soul-and-fire.html' title='soul and fire'/><author><name>seedkeeper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16104306174715688026</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
