<?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-8239313691657347523</id><updated>2012-02-02T14:10:34.466-02:00</updated><category term='Johnny Walker'/><category term='depressão'/><category term='sociedade'/><category term='verão'/><category term='férias'/><category term='lembranças'/><category term='passado'/><category term='viadagem'/><category term='mimimi'/><category term='RBD'/><category term='Escola'/><category term='pena de morte'/><category term='música'/><category term='cotidiano'/><category term='psicologia'/><category term='vida'/><category term='Frases'/><category term='futilidades'/><category term='psicólogos'/><category term='tempos modernos'/><category term='tristeza'/><category term='internet'/><category term='atualidade'/><category term='final de ano'/><category term='revolta'/><category term='consumismo'/><category term='cães'/><category term='bad times'/><category term='estações'/><category term='promessas'/><category term='Oscar Wilde'/><category term='filme'/><category term='tradução'/><category term='frustração'/><category term='2008'/><category term='Police'/><category term='PomPom'/><category term='propaganada'/><category term='surto'/><category term='amigos'/><category term='televisão'/><category term='mudanças'/><category term='listas'/><category term='Muppets'/><category term='aparências'/><category term='Coldplay'/><category term='2007'/><category term='amor'/><category term='pessoas'/><category term='blog'/><category term='publicidade'/><category term='melhores amigas'/><category term='bullying'/><category term='Pink Floyd'/><category term='Strokes'/><category term='Neil Young'/><category term='cinema'/><category term='preconceitos'/><category term='Blade Runner'/><category term='gato'/><category term='Rebeldia'/><category term='Mitologia grega'/><category term='livros'/><category term='love'/><category term='falhas'/><title type='text'>Bittersweet Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>"Hay que endurecerse, pero sin perder la ternura jamás" [ "Há de endurecer-se, mas sem perder a ternura jamais" ~ Che Guevara ]</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>141</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-872094704255557593</id><published>2009-03-19T21:29:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:37:41.398-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Muse - Plug in baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/65Gh0U0wkBs&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/65Gh0U0wkBs&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've exposed your lies, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The underneath is no big surprise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now it's time for changing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And cleansing everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To forget your love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Crucifies my enemies&lt;br /&gt;When I'm tired of giving&lt;br /&gt;My plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;In unbroken virgin realities&lt;br /&gt;Is tired of living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't confuse&lt;br /&gt;Baby you're gonna lose&lt;br /&gt;Your own game&lt;br /&gt;Change me&lt;br /&gt;Replace the envying&lt;br /&gt;To forget your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Crucifies my enemies&lt;br /&gt;When I'm tired of giving&lt;br /&gt;My plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;In unbroken virgin realities&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've seen your loving&lt;br /&gt;But mine is gone&lt;br /&gt;And I've been in trouble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tradução:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu expus suas mentiras, baby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; O que tem por baixo não é grande surpresa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Agora é tempo de mudar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E purificar tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Para esquecer seu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Crucifique meus inimigos&lt;br /&gt;Quando estou cansado de dar&lt;br /&gt;Meu plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Em realidades virgens inquebráveis&lt;br /&gt;E cansado de viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não confunda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Baby você vai perder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Seu próprio jogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Me mudar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E substituir o ciúmes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Para esquecer seu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Crucifque meus inimigos&lt;br /&gt;Quando estou cansado de dar&lt;br /&gt;Meu plug in baby&lt;br /&gt;Em realidades virgens inquebráveis&lt;br /&gt;E cansado de viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tenho visto seu amor&lt;br /&gt;Mas o meu acabou&lt;br /&gt;E estive encrencado&lt;br /&gt;Whoooa.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-872094704255557593?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/872094704255557593/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=872094704255557593' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/872094704255557593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/872094704255557593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/03/muse-plug-in-baby.html' title='Muse - Plug in baby'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1017189898743394429</id><published>2009-03-17T20:41:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T20:43:22.997-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"And now I</title><content type='html'>oh I, I pray for rain&lt;br /&gt;'cause it's been so long since I let myself cry."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1017189898743394429?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1017189898743394429/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1017189898743394429' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1017189898743394429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1017189898743394429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-now-i.html' title='&quot;And now I'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6590461480711198883</id><published>2009-03-17T18:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T18:21:41.111-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Novo blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://theretherexx.blogspot.com"&gt;No angel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já faz um tempinho que abandonei esse e só posto no outro, mas só pra constar né, nunca se sabe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6590461480711198883?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6590461480711198883/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6590461480711198883' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6590461480711198883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6590461480711198883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/03/novo-blog.html' title='Novo blog'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8994778222158117360</id><published>2009-01-23T18:24:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T18:30:58.236-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WxZ19lm3Lj0/SXonzXxIXEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/G_OJYjBZ_kI/s1600-h/layblog1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WxZ19lm3Lj0/SXonzXxIXEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/G_OJYjBZ_kI/s320/layblog1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294588075434335298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8994778222158117360?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8994778222158117360/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8994778222158117360' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8994778222158117360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8994778222158117360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/lay.html' title='Lay'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WxZ19lm3Lj0/SXonzXxIXEI/AAAAAAAAAI0/G_OJYjBZ_kI/s72-c/layblog1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8534439696221793382</id><published>2009-01-17T14:27:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T14:30:01.606-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha mãe sempre me acusa de arrogância.</title><content type='html'>E de achar que sei tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas ultimamente, o que eu mais digo tem sido "não sei", ou "sei lá".&lt;br /&gt;Síndrome de Sócrates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu só queria voltar àquela época, tão recente, e no entanto, parece um passado distante.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We were young and life was hopeful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No one threatened our existence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We were laughing, they couldn't stop us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No one in the world&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8534439696221793382?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8534439696221793382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8534439696221793382' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8534439696221793382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8534439696221793382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/minha-me-sempre-me-acusa-de-arrogncia.html' title='Minha mãe sempre me acusa de arrogância.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8912994614382857229</id><published>2009-01-15T12:55:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T12:57:27.286-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Who - Baba O'Riley</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Out here in the fields&lt;br /&gt;I fight for my meals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I get my back into my living&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't need to fight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; To prove I'm right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't need to be forgiven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Don't raise your eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; It's only teenage wasteland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally ,take my hand&lt;br /&gt;Travel south crossland&lt;br /&gt;Put out the fire&lt;br /&gt;Don't look past my shoulder&lt;br /&gt;The exodus is here&lt;br /&gt;The happy ones are near&lt;br /&gt;Let's get together&lt;br /&gt;Before we get much older&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Teenage wasteland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; It's just a teenage wasteland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Teenage wasteland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Oh, oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Teenage wasteland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; They're all wasted!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tradução:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aqui  nos campos&lt;br /&gt;Eu luto pelas minhas refeições&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho minhas responsabilidades no meu modo de viver&lt;br /&gt;Eu não preciso lutar&lt;br /&gt;Para provar que estou certo&lt;br /&gt;Eu não preciso ser perdoado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não chore,&lt;br /&gt;Não levante seu olhar&lt;br /&gt;É só a devastação adolescente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sally, pegue minha mão&lt;br /&gt;Bem, viaje até o sul, cruzando a território&lt;br /&gt;Apague o fogo e não olhe acima de meu ombro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O êxodo está aqui&lt;br /&gt;Aqueles felizes estão próximos&lt;br /&gt;Vamos ficar juntos antes de ficarmos muito velhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devastação adolescente&lt;br /&gt;É só a devastação adolescente&lt;br /&gt;Devastação adolescente&lt;br /&gt;É só a devastação adolescente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles estão todos bêbados!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8912994614382857229?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8912994614382857229/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8912994614382857229' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8912994614382857229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8912994614382857229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-baba-oriley.html' title='The Who - Baba O&apos;Riley'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2647641402418613364</id><published>2009-01-15T12:47:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T12:54:02.251-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cribs - Be Safe</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One of those fucking awful black days when nothing is pleasing and everything that happens is an excuse for anger. An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armour. These are the days when I hate the world, hate the rich, hate the happy, hate the complacent, the TV watchers, beer drinkers, the satisfied ones. Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things and then I hate myself for realising that. There's no preventative, directive or safe approach for living. We each know our own fate. We know from our youth how to be treated, how we'll be received, how we shall end. These things don't change. You can change your clothes, change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents but sooner or later your own self will always catch up. Always it waits in the wings&lt;/span&gt;. Ideas swirl but don't stick. They appear but then run off like rain on the windshield. One of those rainy day car rides my head implodes, the atmosphere in this car a mirror of my skull. Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold. Walls of grey. Nothing good on the radio. Not a thought in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;                                                                                                                                                              I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets take life and slow it down incredibly slow, frame by frame with two minutes that take ten years to live out. Yeah, lets do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telephone poles like praying mantras against the sky, metal arms outstretched. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So much land travelled so little sense made of it.&lt;/span&gt; It doesn't mean a thing all this land laid out behind us. I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while. I'm disgusted with petty concerns; parking tickets, breakfast specials. Does someone just have to carry this weight? Abstract typography, methane inconvenience, linear gospel, Nashville sales lady, and torturous lice, mad Elizabeth. Chemotherapy bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The light within you shines like a diamond mine, like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway. Like a snake eating its own tail, steam turbine, frog farm, two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blowjob, deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories, movements, the movie unfeeling, unreeling, about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away, I've hear your stairs creak. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can fix my mind on your yes, and on your no&lt;/span&gt;. I'll film you face today in the sparkling canals, all red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection. Racing thoughts, racing thoughts. All too real, you're moving so fast now I cant hold your image. This image I have of your face by the window, me standing beside you arm on your shoulder. A catalogue of images, flashing glimpses then gone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every clear afternoon now I'll picture you up in the air twisting your heel, your knees up around me, my face in your hair. You scream so well, your smile so loud it still rings in my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;I know a place we can go where you'll fall in love so hard that you'll wish you were dead&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imitation. Distant, tired of longing. Clean white teeth. Stay the course. Hold the wheel. Steer on to freedom. Open all the boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open all the boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open all the boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open all the boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times Square midday: newspaper buildings, news headlines going around, you watch as they go, and hope that some good comes. Those tree shadows in the park they're all whistling chasing leaves. Around six pm, shadows across cobblestones, girl in front of a bathroom mirror she slowly and carefully and paints her face green and mask like. A portrait. A green stripe. Long shot through apartment window, a monologue on top but no girl in shot. The light within you shines like a diamond mine, like an unarmed walrus, like a dead man face down on the highway. Like a snake eating its own tail steam turbine, frog farm, two full closets burst open in disarray, soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list, blowjob, deaths head, devils dancing, bleached white buildings, memories, movements. The movie unreeling, about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That was great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yeah? Mine were alright. Wasn't my best one but who cares?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That's the spirit...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;xxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A música é LINDA, mas nem a pau que eu vou traduzir isso tudo, bjs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2647641402418613364?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2647641402418613364/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2647641402418613364' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2647641402418613364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2647641402418613364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/cribs-be-safe.html' title='The Cribs - Be Safe'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-9070521494047147056</id><published>2009-01-10T22:04:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T22:06:36.259-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Tanta falta.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="posttitle"&gt;      &lt;h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;      &lt;p class="post-info"&gt;Agosto 15, 2008 por &lt;a href="http://lyani.wordpress.com/author/lyani1704/" title="Posts de ♥ Lyani"&gt;♥ Lyani&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;                &lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por que sinto falta de você? Se você nem ao menos existiu de verdade? Por que sinto falta do outro tom do meu cabelo, dos olhos lindos que nunca tive? Porquê sinto saudades daquelas escadas imponentes? Por que me faz falta o sol entrando pela janela e tocando aquela cama em que jamais me deitei? Por que seu sorriso carinhoso, seu olhar, seu toque, suas palavras me fazem suspirar de saudade, se nunca de fato ocorreram? Por que sinto saudades e choro pela falta do filho que não gerei? Por que sinto saudades das lindas roupas e do bom gosto em combiná-las que nunca tive? Por que as rosas? Por que justamente elas me fazem tanta falta se nunca as vi ou senti seu perfume? E aqueles olhares? Por que me faltam se nunca se puseram sobre mim? O perfume, o seu tão conhecido perfume que nunca senti, me faz falta. Me faz falta tudo que você nunca me disse, e as longas manhãs e cafés que nunca tomamos juntos e os presentes que nunca me deu. E aquelas pessoas, irmãos, cunhados, sobrinhos, afilhados, todos familiares que nunca tiveram o meu sangue e também fazem falta. E a aliança que nunca colocou em meu dedo, faz falta. E a ausência que sinto quando lembro dos sonhos que nunca realizamos. E o vazio de tantas coisas que nunca vivi e no entanto… me fazem tanta falta.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;{ &lt;strong&gt;Lyani&lt;/strong&gt; } 03/02/2007"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt;From: &lt;a href="http://lyani.wordpress.com/2008/08/15/tanta-falta/"&gt;"Entre Aspas"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-9070521494047147056?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/9070521494047147056/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=9070521494047147056' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/9070521494047147056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/9070521494047147056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/tanta-falta.html' title='&quot;Tanta falta.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2347160491082016826</id><published>2009-01-03T18:06:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T18:15:22.796-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Life for rent - Dido</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I haven't ever really found a place that I call home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I never stick around quite long enough to make it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize that once again I'm not in love&lt;br /&gt;But it's not as if I mind, that your heart ain't exactly breaking&lt;br /&gt;It's just a thought, only a thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my life is for rent&lt;br /&gt;And I don't learn to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea&lt;br /&gt;To travel the world alone&lt;br /&gt;And live more simply&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I have no idea what's happened to that dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause there's really nothing left here to stop me&lt;br /&gt;It's just a thought, only a thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my life is for rent&lt;br /&gt;And I don't learn to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my life is for rent&lt;br /&gt;And I don't, learn to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my heart is a shield&lt;br /&gt;And I won't let it down&lt;br /&gt;While I am so afraid to fail&lt;br /&gt;So I won't even try&lt;br /&gt;Well how can I say I'm alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if my life is for rent&lt;br /&gt;And I don't learn to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my life is for rent&lt;br /&gt;And I don't learn to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Well I deserve nothing more than I get,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Cause nothing I have is truly mine&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2347160491082016826?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2347160491082016826/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2347160491082016826' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2347160491082016826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2347160491082016826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/life-for-rent-dido.html' title='Life for rent - Dido'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5330905455882866032</id><published>2009-01-03T17:35:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T18:06:51.712-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oi 2009.</title><content type='html'>Eu tenho medo de você. Muito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medo de você tirar tudo o que eu conquistei e/ou dei a sorte de encontrar em 2008.&lt;br /&gt;Medo de você ser uma réplica de 2007, medo de dia 01/01/2009 ser um reflexo do que eu posso esperar pro resto do ano.&lt;br /&gt;É.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medo de voltar a ser o que era, voltar àquela vidinha miserável, deprimente e opressiva.&lt;br /&gt;Medo de voltar a viver puramente por falta de opção.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medo. Ou receio, tantófaz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu não costumo sentir isso. Eu não gosto de sentir isso. Eu não quero sentir isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero que isso acabe. Eu quero ir embora, eu quero voltar pra casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só que o único lugar onde eu já me senti em casa não me pertence. E jamais pertenceu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5330905455882866032?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5330905455882866032/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5330905455882866032' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5330905455882866032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5330905455882866032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/oi-2009.html' title='Oi 2009.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3794661213325079137</id><published>2009-01-03T17:26:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T14:10:17.669-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Paul Weller - No one in the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Come down, the tea is on the table&lt;br /&gt;Nothing seems to matter anymore&lt;br /&gt;And if you're good we'll go out on Sunday&lt;br /&gt;Spend the whole day thinking of you&lt;br /&gt;Take you sailing across the water&lt;br /&gt;To a faraway place&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Remember when life was lovely&lt;br /&gt;Forever was captured in your smile&lt;br /&gt;When we were young and life was hopeful&lt;br /&gt;No one threatened our existence&lt;br /&gt;We were laughing&lt;br /&gt;They couldn't stop us&lt;br /&gt;No one in the world&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Remember when life was lovely&lt;br /&gt;Forever was captured in your smile&lt;br /&gt;When we were young and life was hopeful&lt;br /&gt;No one threatened our existence&lt;br /&gt;We were laughing&lt;br /&gt;They couldn't stop us&lt;br /&gt;No one in the world.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3794661213325079137?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3794661213325079137/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3794661213325079137' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3794661213325079137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3794661213325079137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2009/01/paul-weller-no-one-in-world.html' title='Paul Weller - No one in the world'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3636502378680664987</id><published>2008-12-29T00:00:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T00:01:09.142-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The last was the best.</title><content type='html'>Lady Murphy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3636502378680664987?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3636502378680664987/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3636502378680664987' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3636502378680664987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3636502378680664987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/last-was-best.html' title='The last was the best.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-993548757969894760</id><published>2008-12-28T22:49:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:38:11.530-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ódio.</title><content type='html'>Eu não preciso de vocês, eu não preciso de ninguém [com uma exceção], mas eu costumava apreciar sua companhia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yeah, they're laughing at you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; They're not laughing with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's another guilt slip&lt;br /&gt;On my Freudian trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I think the jokes on me.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wanna rip you open while you're laughing at me.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partir ao meio é pouco, vontade de te estraçalhar aos pedacinhos, tirar o maldito sorriso cínico e debochado do teu rosto nem que fosse na base da tortura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não preciso, apenas gosto, apenas quero, mas isso pode mudar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando algo te faz mais mal do que bem, a não ser que seja inviável, corta cara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puta que pariu!&lt;br /&gt;"Se você não sabe brincar, não posso fazer nada."&lt;br /&gt;"VOCÊ não pode fazer nada, mas EU tenho de mudar, aprender a levar as coisas menos a sério? Que porra é essa?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ainda sou chamada de egoísta, hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou a piada coletiva, piada pronta. Desajeitada, azarada, que leva tudo a sério, que só se fode, paixões ridículas, patética. Loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu adoro fazer as pessoas rirem. Mas tem mesmo de ser de mim?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes cansa. E freqüentemente dói. Mas sofrer calada é minha especialidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-993548757969894760?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/993548757969894760/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=993548757969894760' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/993548757969894760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/993548757969894760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/dio.html' title='Ódio.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3423361183680365223</id><published>2008-12-27T22:04:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T22:10:17.781-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Brincadeiras/ piadinhas infelizes</title><content type='html'>Existem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E só hoje, uma me irritou, e outra me fez chorar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras têm poder. O poder de te deixar extasiadamente feliz ou profundamente triste, ou realmente irritada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3423361183680365223?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3423361183680365223/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3423361183680365223' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3423361183680365223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3423361183680365223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/brincadeiras-piadinhas-infelizes.html' title='Brincadeiras/ piadinhas infelizes'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8655541703092913986</id><published>2008-12-25T23:28:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T01:24:12.855-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I couldn't be happiest.</title><content type='html'>:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8655541703092913986?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8655541703092913986/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8655541703092913986' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8655541703092913986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8655541703092913986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-couldnt-be-happiest.html' title='I couldn&apos;t be happiest.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3277958733277545737</id><published>2008-12-25T22:43:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T22:44:06.187-02:00</updated><title type='text'>HAHAHA</title><content type='html'>&gt;:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3277958733277545737?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3277958733277545737/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3277958733277545737' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3277958733277545737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3277958733277545737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/hahaha.html' title='HAHAHA'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1028967374862643371</id><published>2008-12-25T20:09:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T20:26:35.008-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"And I'm tired and bored</title><content type='html'>Of waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;And all those things you'll never do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dido - My life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ano novo, vida nova.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1028967374862643371?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1028967374862643371/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1028967374862643371' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1028967374862643371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1028967374862643371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-im-tired-and-bored.html' title='&quot;And I&apos;m tired and bored'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8932056444420054416</id><published>2008-12-25T01:09:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T01:24:03.707-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Butim de Natal da tia Giovana</title><content type='html'>• 1 par de tênis Nike, de couro branco com o símbolo em roxo e detalhes em rosa [from: irmãos];&lt;br /&gt;• 1 par de brincos de argola em prata, com strass coloridos, LINDO [from: Maria];&lt;br /&gt;• Umas 5 blusas muito feias e/ou nem um pouco meu estilo;&lt;br /&gt;• Uma bolsa muito roots pro meu gosto;&lt;br /&gt;• Uma blusa de alcinhas listrada pink e preto [from: tia/madrinha Rosângela]&lt;br /&gt;• Uma sandália de dedo rosa pink com padrão tipo de oncinha na sola [from ?];&lt;br /&gt;• UMA BICICLETA aro 24, preta e rosa, LINDA [from: irmãos];&lt;br /&gt;• Meias [?] [from: irmãos]&lt;br /&gt;• CREPÚSCULO ♥♥♥ [from: Thaisete ç2 &amp;amp; her family]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E uma noite maravilhosa com meus familiares: não têm preço :DDD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8932056444420054416?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8932056444420054416/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8932056444420054416' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8932056444420054416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8932056444420054416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/butim-de-natal-da-tia-giovana.html' title='Butim de Natal da tia Giovana'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6322215395850865191</id><published>2008-12-24T00:35:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T00:40:51.728-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cardigans - After all</title><content type='html'>After all you were perfectly right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But i'm scaring close to insanity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on a night like this&lt;br /&gt;Nothing stays the same&lt;br /&gt;Nothing looks the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; After all you were perfectly right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Though our relation just split me in two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And on a night like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Pieces fall apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Visions fall apart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; After all you were perfectly right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I have never been happy before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And on a night like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; You can hear the words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; See behind the words &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; After all you were perfectly wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Though i thought i'd found love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And on a night like this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Nothing could be worse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Nothing could be worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tradução? Sivira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6322215395850865191?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6322215395850865191/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6322215395850865191' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6322215395850865191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6322215395850865191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/cardigans-after-all.html' title='The Cardigans - After all'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8874577578006692119</id><published>2008-12-23T17:32:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T17:49:00.731-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu sou uma idiota.</title><content type='html'>Uma completa imbecil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tantas vezes já me acusaram de pessimismo, ao que eu retrucava ser realismo [mesmo porque quase nunca deixei de fazer algo por achar que não daria certo].&lt;br /&gt;Mas quando eu DEVERIA ser pessimista-realista, eu vejo a realidade, os fatos, tenho consciência da falta de perspectivas da minha situação... e aí sorrio e penso "Ah, tudo bem, quem liga, por hora estou feliz."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como se eu não soubesse que essa felicidade é efêmera, efêmera demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou tão burra!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo consciente da trapaça que estou fazendo comigo mesma, eu insisto. Insisto em algo tão óbvio, tão visivelmente sem futuro, esperando algo que espero há nove meses e  não me conformo de ser impossível.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu descobri que o segredo da felicidade é manter as expectativas bem baixas, assim, se algo ruim acontece, você está preparada; se algo bom acontece, você se surpreende e fica feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porém eu continuo com uma esperança ridícula, absurda e frustrante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejar o impossível é certeiro pra ficar insatisfeita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou parcialmente bem feliz, sabe aquele ditado "não tenho tudo que amo mas amo tudo que tenho"? Exatamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei valorizar o que tenho, só que justo aquela coisa, a que está sempre próxima, e inalcançável, que eu posso tocar, mas não ter, é a que mais faz falta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você, loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odeio isso, odeio isso, odeio isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8874577578006692119?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8874577578006692119/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8874577578006692119' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8874577578006692119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8874577578006692119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/eu-sou-uma-idiota.html' title='Eu sou uma idiota.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7658887240879174361</id><published>2008-12-23T02:30:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T02:39:50.475-02:00</updated><title type='text'>New Radicals - Someday we'll know</title><content type='html'>[ ou, música &lt;s&gt;de amor&lt;/s&gt; &lt;s&gt;gay&lt;/s&gt; da Giovana de hoje. ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wfe0oaA6HLg&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wfe0oaA6HLg&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[at all, estou chocada, o clipe tem dez anos - é de 1998 o_o' ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Radicals&lt;br /&gt;Someday We'll Know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90 miles outside Chicago&lt;br /&gt;Can't stop driving&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why&lt;br /&gt;So many questions&lt;br /&gt;I need an answer&lt;br /&gt;Two years later &lt;b&gt;you're still on my mind&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What even happened to Amelie Earhart?&lt;br /&gt;Who holds the stars up in the sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Is true love just do once in a lifetime?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did the captain of the Titanic cry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus 1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Someday we'll know&lt;br /&gt;If love can move a mountain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday we'll know&lt;br /&gt;Why the sky is blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Someday we'll know&lt;br /&gt;Why I wasn't meant for you&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anybody know the way to Atlantis&lt;br /&gt;Or what the wind says when she cries&lt;br /&gt;I'm speeding by the place that I met you&lt;br /&gt;For the 97th time..... tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus 1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus 2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Someday we'll know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why Samson loved Delilah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll go&lt;br /&gt;Dancing on the moon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Someday you'll know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;That I was the one for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(yeah yeah yeah yeah)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow&lt;br /&gt;I watched the stars crash in the sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If I could ask God just one question&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why aren't you here with me....tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(chorus 1 &amp;amp; 2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tradução:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90 milhas fora de Chicago,&lt;br /&gt;Não consigo parar de dirigir, não sei porquê.&lt;br /&gt;Tantas questões, eu preciso de uma resposta,&lt;br /&gt;Dois anos mais tarde e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você ainda está no meu pensamento.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que foi que aconteceu a Emilia Earhart?&lt;br /&gt;Quem sustenta as estrelas no céu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amor verdadeiro é uma única vez na vida?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O capitão do Titanic chorou?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(REFRÃO 1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Algum dia saberemos&lt;br /&gt;Se o amor pode mover uma montanha,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algum dia saberemos porque o céu é azul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Algum dia nós saberemos&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu não fui destinado para você.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém sabe o caminho para Atlântida?&lt;br /&gt;Ou o que o vento diz quando chora?&lt;br /&gt;Estou dirigindo rápido perto lugar onde te encontrei,&lt;br /&gt;Pela 97ª vez esta noite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[REFRÃO 1]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refrão 2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Algum dia saberemos porque Sansão amou Dalila,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia eu irei dançar na lua,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Algum dia você saberá que eu era o cara para você...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu comprei uma passagem para o fim do arco-íris,&lt;br /&gt;Eu observei as estrelas colidirem de encontro ao mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Se eu pudesse perguntar a Deus apenas uma questão:&lt;br /&gt;"Por quê você não está aqui comigo, esta noite?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Refrão 1]&lt;br /&gt;[Refrão 2]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;É né.&lt;br /&gt;Delilah was a bitch, and you are a jerk.&lt;br /&gt;Samson was a stupid, and I'm also.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7658887240879174361?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7658887240879174361/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7658887240879174361' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7658887240879174361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7658887240879174361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-radicals-someday-well-know.html' title='New Radicals - Someday we&apos;ll know'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-595313399139872927</id><published>2008-12-21T23:19:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T23:19:34.912-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm tired and it hurts.</title><content type='html'>~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-595313399139872927?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/595313399139872927/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=595313399139872927' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/595313399139872927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/595313399139872927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-tired-and-it-hurts.html' title='I&apos;m tired and it hurts.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6037911520579532591</id><published>2008-12-21T23:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T23:11:38.369-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled.</title><content type='html'>Talvez o que torne isso tudo tão desagradável seja o fato de você ter preenchido tão completamente minha vida e minha alma que agora seja quase impossível te dissociar de tudo isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6037911520579532591?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6037911520579532591/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6037911520579532591' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6037911520579532591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6037911520579532591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/untitled.html' title='Untitled.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6858511419937363757</id><published>2008-12-19T23:04:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T23:08:40.032-02:00</updated><title type='text'>''But if you want me, it's cool</title><content type='html'>You can take me for a fool&lt;br /&gt;I could slow down if you want me to&lt;br /&gt;But just for you, just for you, just for you...''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bravery - No brakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6858511419937363757?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6858511419937363757/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6858511419937363757' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6858511419937363757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6858511419937363757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/but-if-you-want-me-its-cool.html' title='&apos;&apos;But if you want me, it&apos;s cool'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2247548977540604471</id><published>2008-12-16T23:23:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:45:23.999-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Linkin Park - In the End</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Wr50NZIB1g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_Wr50NZIB1g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;It starts with one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One thing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't know why&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter how hard you'd try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Keep that in mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I designed this rhyme&lt;br /&gt;To explain in due time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;All I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;Time is a valuable thing&lt;br /&gt;Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings&lt;br /&gt;Watch it count down 'till the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;The clock ticks life away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It's so unreal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;You didn't look out below&lt;br /&gt;Watch the time go right out the window&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hold on, to didn't even know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wasted it all just to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watch you go...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I kept everything inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And even though I tried,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It all fell apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What it meant to me will eventually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Be a memory of a time when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've tried so hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And got so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I had to fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To lose it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;One thing, I don't know why&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't even matter how hard you'd try&lt;br /&gt;Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme&lt;br /&gt;To remind myself how&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've tried so hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In spite of the way you were mocking me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting like I was part of your property&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Remembering all the times you fought with me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm surprised, it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Got so far...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Things aren't the way they were before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You wouldn't even recognize me anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Not that you wouldn't knew me, back then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But it all comes back to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In the end...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mike]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You kept everything inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And even though I tried,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It all fell apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What it meant to me will eventually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Be a memory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Of a time when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;[Chester]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've tried so hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And got so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I had to fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To lose it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've put my trust in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pushed as far as I can go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For all this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There's only one thing you should've know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've put my trust in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pushed as far as I can go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For all this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There's only one thing you should've know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I've tried so hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And got so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I had to fall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To lose it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But in the end,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It doesn't even matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tradução:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Isso começa com...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Uma coisa,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu não sei o por quê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nem ao menos importa o quanto você tentou,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tenha isso em mente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fiz essa rima para explicar em seu devido tempo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que eu sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo é uma coisa valiosa&lt;br /&gt;Veja-o passar enquanto o pêndulo balança&lt;br /&gt;Veja-o contar até o fim do dia&lt;br /&gt;O relógio marca o passar da vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Isso é tão irreal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você não olhou para baixo&lt;br /&gt;Veja o tempo passar pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Tentando esperar, tentando nem ter sabido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu desperdicei isso tudo apenas para...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ver você ir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu guardei tudo dentro de mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E embora eu tenha tentado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tudo desmoronou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O que isso significou pra mim será eventualmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Uma lembrança de um tempo em que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Refrão]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tentei tão arduamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E cheguei tão longe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim, isso nem ao menos teve importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tive que cair para perder tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim isso nem ao menos teve  importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma coisa,&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sei o por quê&lt;br /&gt;Não importa o quanto você tentou,&lt;br /&gt;Tenha isso em mente&lt;br /&gt;Eu fiz essa rima para lembrar a mim mesmo o quanto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu realmente tentei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Apesar do jeito que você estava me gozando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agindo como se eu fosse parte da sua propriedade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lembrando-me de todas as vezes que você brigou comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu estou surpresa, isso...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chegou tão longe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;As coisas não são do jeito que eram antes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Você nem ia me reconhecer mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não que você me conhecesse há uns tempos atrás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas tudo volta para mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu guardei tudo dentro de mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E embora eu tenha tentado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tudo desmoronou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O que isso significou pra mim será eventualmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Uma lembrança de um tempo em que...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Refrão]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tentei tão arduamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E cheguei tão longe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim, isso  nem ao menos teve importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tive que cair para perder tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim isso nem ao menos teve  importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu depositei minha confiança em você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fui até onde eu posso ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E por tudo isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Há só uma coisa que você deveria saber (2x)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Refrão]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tentei tão arduamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E cheguei tão longe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim, isso nem ao menos teve importância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu tive que cair para perder tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mas no fim isso nem ao menos teve importância.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2247548977540604471?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2247548977540604471/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2247548977540604471' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2247548977540604471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2247548977540604471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/linkin-park-in-end.html' title='Linkin Park - In the End'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8082551739241169153</id><published>2008-12-15T20:32:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:33:26.254-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I won't be there when you fall.</title><content type='html'>Heartless motherfucker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8082551739241169153?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8082551739241169153/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8082551739241169153' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8082551739241169153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8082551739241169153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-wont-be-there-when-you-fall.html' title='I won&apos;t be there when you fall.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7931743645988314197</id><published>2008-12-15T13:16:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:21:41.668-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oasis - Guess God thinks I'm Abel.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pDi3qC05Dag&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pDi3qC05Dag&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I could be your lover&lt;br /&gt;You could be all mine&lt;br /&gt;We'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;Till the end of time&lt;br /&gt;You could be my best friend&lt;br /&gt;Stay up all night long&lt;br /&gt;You could be my railroad&lt;br /&gt;We'd go on and on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's get along, there's nothin' here to do&lt;br /&gt;Let's go find a rainbow&lt;br /&gt;I could be wrong but what am I to do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Guess god thinks I'm Abel&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could be my enemy&lt;br /&gt;I guess there's still time&lt;br /&gt;I get round to loving you&lt;br /&gt;Is that such a crime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one could break us&lt;br /&gt;No one could take us&lt;br /&gt;If they tried&lt;br /&gt;No one could break us&lt;br /&gt;No one could take us&lt;br /&gt;If they tried&lt;br /&gt;No one could break us&lt;br /&gt;No one could take us&lt;br /&gt;If they tried&lt;br /&gt;Come along let's make it tonight.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tradução:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu poderia ser sua amante&lt;br /&gt;Você poderia ser todo meu&lt;br /&gt;Nós continuaríamos para sempre&lt;br /&gt;Até o fim dos tempos&lt;br /&gt;Você poderia ser meu melhor amigo&lt;br /&gt;Ficar acordado a noite toda&lt;br /&gt;Você poderia ser minha estrada de ferro&lt;br /&gt;Nós conversaríamos bastante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vamos nos entender&lt;br /&gt;Não há para fazer aqui&lt;br /&gt;Vamos encontrar um arco-íris&lt;br /&gt;Eu poderia estar errado,&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que posso fazer?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu acho que Deus pensa que sou Abel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você poderia ser meu inimigo&lt;br /&gt;Acho que ainda há tempo&lt;br /&gt;Eu encontraria o momento para amá-lo&lt;br /&gt;Isso é mesmo um crime?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém conseguiria nos separar&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém conseguiria nos levar&lt;br /&gt;Se eles tentassem&lt;br /&gt;Venha junto, vamos conseguir esta noite.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;♥♥♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7931743645988314197?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7931743645988314197/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7931743645988314197' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7931743645988314197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7931743645988314197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/oasis-guess-god-thinks-im-abel.html' title='Oasis - Guess God thinks I&apos;m Abel.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-688539870744940257</id><published>2008-12-11T22:04:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:10:27.874-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Feel allright</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;And I cried so hard&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;Twister, I shouldn't have trusted you&lt;br /&gt;Twister, ah na na na&lt;br /&gt;It's not gonna happen now&lt;br /&gt;You're not going to make fun of me&lt;br /&gt;Happen now&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Cranberries - Ridiculous Thoughts.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel alright, and I cried so hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-688539870744940257?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/688539870744940257/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=688539870744940257' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/688539870744940257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/688539870744940257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/feel-allright.html' title='&quot;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feel allright&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5386018960299686776</id><published>2008-12-11T21:59:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:03:42.904-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"You've lost your relevance, mr. black,</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I gave you everything, give it back&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;You won't win and i'll tell you why&lt;br /&gt;You've betrayed a person who bleeds but won't die.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scarling - Baby Dracula.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5386018960299686776?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5386018960299686776/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5386018960299686776' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5386018960299686776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5386018960299686776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/youve-lost-your-relevance-mr-black.html' title='&quot;&lt;b&gt;You&apos;ve lost your relevance&lt;/b&gt;, mr. black,'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5178158412340234029</id><published>2008-12-11T20:41:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T20:51:52.767-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mamute.</title><content type='html'>Este post também poderia se chamar "sobre lealdade". Porque essa é a característica mais marcante do meu dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas obrigada. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5178158412340234029?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5178158412340234029/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5178158412340234029' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5178158412340234029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5178158412340234029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/mamute.html' title='Mamute.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7042971852741444773</id><published>2008-12-11T19:57:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:58:07.657-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ajudar a todos e chorar sozinha</title><content type='html'>É esse meu destino?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7042971852741444773?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7042971852741444773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7042971852741444773' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7042971852741444773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7042971852741444773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/ajudar-todos-e-chorar-sozinha.html' title='Ajudar a todos e chorar sozinha'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4202420228824890463</id><published>2008-12-11T19:36:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:37:04.107-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Blablablablablá.</title><content type='html'>Blablablá, acusações de um lado.&lt;br /&gt;Blablalablá, ajudar do outro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4202420228824890463?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4202420228824890463/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4202420228824890463' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4202420228824890463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4202420228824890463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/blablablablabl.html' title='Blablablablablá.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7598500113175057584</id><published>2008-12-11T19:13:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:27:37.022-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"I felt you so much today.</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I know you tried&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tried straight into my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;You fly straight into my heart&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl, I know you tried&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;You fly straight into my heart&lt;br /&gt;You fly straight into my heart&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;But here comes the fall&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I felt you so much today&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Interpol ~  Pioneer to the falls. ♫&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7598500113175057584?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7598500113175057584/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7598500113175057584' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7598500113175057584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7598500113175057584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-felt-you-so-much-today.html' title='&quot;I felt you so much today.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1587310736099744780</id><published>2008-12-11T19:05:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:12:52.774-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"And what do i get, for my pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Betrayed desires&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, and a piece of the game."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Smashing Pumpkins ~ Bullet with butterfly wings&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1587310736099744780?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1587310736099744780/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1587310736099744780' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1587310736099744780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1587310736099744780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-what-do-i-get-for-my-pain.html' title='&quot;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;And what do i get, for my pain&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3967818706318992300</id><published>2008-12-11T19:00:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:03:47.433-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Making some sense,</title><content type='html'>Where there's no sense at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No promises&lt;br /&gt;But you should fall."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Icehouse ~ No promises.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3967818706318992300?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3967818706318992300/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3967818706318992300' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3967818706318992300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3967818706318992300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/making-some-sense.html' title='&quot;Making some sense,'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5898089281547698955</id><published>2008-12-10T18:23:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T18:23:47.828-02:00</updated><title type='text'>In you I touched the sky, for you I tasted hell</title><content type='html'>E não quero isso de novo, obrigada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5898089281547698955?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5898089281547698955/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5898089281547698955' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5898089281547698955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5898089281547698955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-you-i-touched-sky-for-you-i-tasted.html' title='In you I touched the sky, for you I tasted hell'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5905377418879448528</id><published>2008-12-10T17:57:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T17:58:55.814-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Sorte de hoje:</title><content type='html'>Trate os defeitos dos outros com a mesma consideração que lida com os seus."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Péssima idéia. Minha auto-crítica é imensa e eu costumo ser indulgente com as outras pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É errado, mas ao menos eu fico com menos fama de babaca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5905377418879448528?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5905377418879448528/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5905377418879448528' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5905377418879448528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5905377418879448528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/sorte-de-hoje.html' title='&quot;Sorte de hoje:'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4867038810258534959</id><published>2008-12-10T14:39:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T14:49:01.245-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolling Stones - Oh no, not you again</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here you stand before me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Waiting to be kissed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You're a beauty, such a cutie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How could I resist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a month of Sundays&lt;br /&gt;Since we last had spoke&lt;br /&gt;So much water, you get dollars&lt;br /&gt;I fell out of the boat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fucking up my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was bad the first time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can't stand it twice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand your face&lt;br /&gt;Once bitten, twice shy&lt;br /&gt;Get me out of the race&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The setting's so romantic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love is in the air&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All is perfect but I'm allergic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To your business stares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look so cool and tempting&lt;br /&gt;In your couture dress&lt;br /&gt;You're addictive, as predicted&lt;br /&gt;I'm nervous, I confess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mashing up my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was bad the first time, yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;You had me in a vice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I hear ya and I shout&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It was bad the first time around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you turned me inside out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody's talking&lt;br /&gt;Showing up their wits&lt;br /&gt;The moon is yellow but I'm like jello&lt;br /&gt;Staring down your tits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind flashes forward&lt;br /&gt;I feel it flashing back&lt;br /&gt;I still dreaming and I'm screaming&lt;br /&gt;"Get me off the rack!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand the pain&lt;br /&gt;I was burned the first time, yeah&lt;br /&gt;I can't deal it again&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;br /&gt;Messing up my life, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Once bitten, twice shy&lt;br /&gt;But I can't do it twice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not you again&lt;br /&gt;Fucking up my life&lt;br /&gt;It was bad first time around&lt;br /&gt;I better take my own advice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, oh no, oh nooooo! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tradução:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Você está aí de pé, diante de mim&lt;br /&gt;Esperando ser beijado&lt;br /&gt;Você é uma beleza, tão bonitinho&lt;br /&gt;Como eu poderia resistir&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinha sido um mês de domingos&lt;br /&gt;Desde a última vez que nos falamos&lt;br /&gt;Muita água, você pega dolares&lt;br /&gt;Eu caí fora dos boatos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fudendo minha vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foi ruim a primeira vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não posso agüentar duas vezes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tolero sua cara&lt;br /&gt;Uma vez amargo, duas vezes timido&lt;br /&gt;Me deixe de fora da corrida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A colocação é tão romantica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O amor está no ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tudo está perfeito, mas eu sou alérgico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para seu olhar fixo de negócios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seu olhar tão frio e provocante&lt;br /&gt;Em seu vestido caro&lt;br /&gt;Você está ativa, como predileta&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou nervoso, eu confesso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Misturando-se na minha vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foi ruim a primeira vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Você me tem como um vício&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh não você de novo não&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu ouço e grito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Foi ruim a primeira vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando você me transformou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos estão falando&lt;br /&gt;Mostrando seus comportamentos&lt;br /&gt;A lua é amarela, estou como geléia&lt;br /&gt;Olhando fixamente suas tetas [q?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha mente indo pra frente&lt;br /&gt;Me sinto voltando atrás&lt;br /&gt;Eu ainda estou sonhando e gritando&lt;br /&gt;"deixe-me fora da tortura"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu não posso suportar a dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu fui queimado a primeira vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu não posso lidar com isso novamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;br /&gt;Bagunçando minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Uma vez amargo, duas vezes timido&lt;br /&gt;eu não posso acreditar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh não, você de novo não&lt;br /&gt;Fudendo minha vida&lt;br /&gt;foi ruim a primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;melhor minha propria opinião&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh não, Oh nããããããão...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4867038810258534959?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4867038810258534959/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4867038810258534959' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4867038810258534959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4867038810258534959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/rolling-stones-oh-no-not-you-again.html' title='Rolling Stones - Oh no, not you again'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1070647065253435900</id><published>2008-12-10T14:37:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T14:38:38.225-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Rapper 50 Cent diz que Eminem é como se fosse sua avó."</title><content type='html'>MALZAÊ, EU RI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notícia na íntegra &lt;a href="http://cifraclub.terra.com.br/noticias/8636-rapper-50-cent-diz-que-eminem-como-se-fosse-sua-avo.html"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1070647065253435900?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1070647065253435900/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1070647065253435900' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1070647065253435900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1070647065253435900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/rapper-50-cent-diz-que-eminem-como-se.html' title='&quot;Rapper 50 Cent diz que Eminem é como se fosse sua avó.&quot;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5483593950808648549</id><published>2008-12-09T14:09:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:21:54.245-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Paul Weller [cover do Noel Gallagher, do Oasis] - To be someone</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;To be someone must be a wonderful thing&lt;br /&gt;A famous footballer a rock singer&lt;br /&gt;Or a big film star, yes I think that I would like&lt;br /&gt;I would like that&lt;br /&gt;To be rich and have a lot of fans&lt;br /&gt;And lots of girls to prove that I'm a man&lt;br /&gt;To be number one - and loved by everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting drugged up with my trendy friends&lt;br /&gt;They really dig me, man, and i dig them&lt;br /&gt;And the bread I spend, it is like my fame, it's quicklydiminished&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more swimming in my guitar shaped pool&lt;br /&gt;No more reporters at my beck and call&lt;br /&gt;No more cocaine, now it's only ground chalk&lt;br /&gt;And no more taxis - now we have to walk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I have a nice time&lt;br /&gt;Wasn't it such a nice time&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I have a nice time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I should have stuck to my guns&lt;br /&gt;You shit me out like one of the bastard sons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And I lost myself, but I knew it was wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And it cost me a lot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres no more drinking when the club shuts down&lt;br /&gt;And I'm out here on my arse with the rest of the clowns&lt;br /&gt;Im  really scared without my bodyguard&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sitting all alone in my expensive yard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I have a nice time&lt;br /&gt;Wasn't it such a nice time&lt;br /&gt;Didn't I have a nice time&lt;br /&gt;Wasn't it such a nice time&lt;br /&gt;I remember it was a nice time&lt;br /&gt;To be someone must be a wonderful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ser alguém deve ser uma coisa maravilhosa&lt;br /&gt;Um jogador de futebol famoso, um cantor de rock&lt;br /&gt;Ou uma grande estrela de filme, sim eu acho que eu gostaria&lt;br /&gt;Eu gostaria ser como isso&lt;br /&gt;Ser rico e ter muitos fãs&lt;br /&gt;E muitas garotas para provar que eu sou homem&lt;br /&gt;Para ser o número um - e ser amado por todos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ficando drogado com meus amigos&lt;br /&gt;Escavam-me realmente, homem, e eu escavo-os&lt;br /&gt;E o pão que eu gasto, ele é como minha fama, ele é rapidamente diminuído&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais natação em minha piscina em forma de guitarra&lt;br /&gt;Não mais repórteres em meus sinais e chamadas&lt;br /&gt;Não mais cocaína, agora não é somente giz moído&lt;br /&gt;Não mais taxis, agora nós temos que andar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tive um tempo bom?&lt;br /&gt;Não era um tempo agradável?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tive um tempo bom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu realizo que eu deveria ter furado a meus injetores&lt;br /&gt;Você me pôs pra fora para fora como um dos filhos bastardos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E eu perdi a mim mesmo, mas eu sabia que isso estava errado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E isso me custou muito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não mais beber quando o clube fechar&lt;br /&gt;E eu estou aqui fora em meu ânus com o resto dos palhaços&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou realmente assustado sem meu guarda-costas&lt;br /&gt;E eu estou sentando-me sozinho em minha jarda cara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tive uma boa época?&lt;br /&gt;Não era uma época agradável?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tive uma boa época?&lt;br /&gt;Não era uma época agradável?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu lembro que era uma boa época.&lt;br /&gt;Ser alguém deve ser uma coisa maravilhosa.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A letra é maravilhosa. E o ritmo também, quando eu achar o vídeo, eu posto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5483593950808648549?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5483593950808648549/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5483593950808648549' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5483593950808648549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5483593950808648549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/paul-weller-cover-do-noel-gallagher-do.html' title='Paul Weller [cover do Noel Gallagher, do Oasis] - To be someone'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4694265127945225189</id><published>2008-12-09T14:02:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T14:03:57.199-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"What have you done with my whole wide world?"</title><content type='html'>Argh.&lt;br /&gt;"What have you done...?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4694265127945225189?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4694265127945225189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4694265127945225189' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4694265127945225189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4694265127945225189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-have-you-done-with-my-whole-wide.html' title='&quot;What have you done with my whole wide world?&quot;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8357648865433445473</id><published>2008-12-07T20:55:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T20:58:29.183-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pode me chamar de Madre Teresa de Calcutá.</title><content type='html'>Porque ajudar duas pessoas, quando você tá confusa e angustiada, não é pra qualquer um.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odeio isso, muito. Mas o que eu vou fazer?&lt;br /&gt;Impeço-me de surtar.&lt;br /&gt;Seria inútil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa noite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8357648865433445473?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8357648865433445473/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8357648865433445473' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8357648865433445473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8357648865433445473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/pode-me-chamar-de-madre-teresa-de.html' title='Pode me chamar de Madre Teresa de Calcutá.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3818984567851301160</id><published>2008-12-06T11:20:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T11:21:29.293-02:00</updated><title type='text'>P-E-R-D-E-U, OÊÊÊÊÊ</title><content type='html'>Para bom entendedor, meia palavra basta, DIK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3818984567851301160?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3818984567851301160/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3818984567851301160' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3818984567851301160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3818984567851301160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/p-e-r-d-e-u-o.html' title='P-E-R-D-E-U, OÊÊÊÊÊ'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-751750059630039689</id><published>2008-12-04T19:21:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T19:41:25.753-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Operação cabelo vermelho: FAILED</title><content type='html'>Não ficou realmente vermelho, tá tipo assim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.4evermetal.blogger.com.br/f%20lima%20cabelo%20vermelho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://www.4evermetal.blogger.com.br/f%20lima%20cabelo%20vermelho.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só que mais fraco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até que tá bonito (;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-751750059630039689?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/751750059630039689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=751750059630039689' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/751750059630039689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/751750059630039689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/operao-cabelo-vermelho-failed.html' title='Operação cabelo vermelho: FAILED'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5808023709247187361</id><published>2008-12-03T16:48:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T16:49:22.317-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got you.</title><content type='html'>Ser volúvel, A-TÓ-ROM ;D [sem sarcasmo].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5808023709247187361?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5808023709247187361/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5808023709247187361' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5808023709247187361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5808023709247187361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/12/ive-got-you.html' title='I&apos;ve got you.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7592761911316493318</id><published>2008-11-29T00:21:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T00:23:04.902-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Castigo</title><content type='html'>Só pra avisar que estou de castigo do pc por tempo indeterminado [vulgo "até o fim do ano mas amo um drama"].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nhé u_u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7592761911316493318?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7592761911316493318/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7592761911316493318' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7592761911316493318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7592761911316493318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/castigo.html' title='Castigo'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2124256290538972496</id><published>2008-11-28T23:11:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T23:54:20.037-02:00</updated><title type='text'>So long bad, bad blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;"So long, scarecrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So long bad mood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long prescription pills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So long bad blues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, we don't care anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So long, liar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; What transpired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; What did you expect?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Kindness for tread neglect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Oh oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; We don't care anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long, lonesome&lt;br /&gt;Know what you've done&lt;br /&gt;Smoking a cigarette&lt;br /&gt;Praying that we'll forget&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we don't care anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long, scarecrow&lt;br /&gt;Sorry you're sad&lt;br /&gt;You say you lost everything&lt;br /&gt;Some things you never had&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we don't care anymore&lt;br /&gt;We don't care anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scarling - So long, scarecrow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So long, scarecrow&lt;br /&gt;So long, bad, bad news&lt;br /&gt;So long, suicide&lt;br /&gt;Looks like the joke's on you&lt;br /&gt;So long, cigarette&lt;br /&gt;While you speak in tongues&lt;br /&gt;So long, small town&lt;br /&gt;You're not  the only one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[Love you] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care no more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[CUCKOO, CUCKOO] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't really care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't really care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I don't really care no more &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long, headache&lt;br /&gt;Staring to the sun&lt;br /&gt;So long, valentine&lt;br /&gt;Unrivalled and undone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So long, enemy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I was yours to choose &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So long, scarecrow &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So long, bad, bad news &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[Bad news] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care no more&lt;br /&gt;[CUCKOO, CUCKOO]&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care&lt;br /&gt;We don't really care no more&lt;br /&gt;[...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't really care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[CUCKOO, CUCKOO] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't really care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[CUCKOO, CUCKOO] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't really care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[CUCKOO, CUCKOO]&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scarling - Staring to the sun&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É bom ter te esquecido, definitivamente, desta vez. É bom quando você se livra de algo que estava te destruindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É bom me sentir bem comigo mesma o tempo todo. É bom me sentir bonita, confiante e etc.É bom eu finalmente perceber o quão sortuda eu sou por ter irmãos tão maravilhosos e os melhores amigos do mundo, e uma vida ótima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É bom estar bem, bem de verdade. Não pulando de alegria, mas &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;muito &lt;/span&gt;satisfeita comigo mesma e com a vida.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;É bom? É ótimo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E é &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;muito &lt;/span&gt;bom quando você consegue se esforça um pouco e consegue alguma coisa que você queria bastante &lt;s&gt;[ou alguém, hihihi :x]&lt;/s&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2124256290538972496?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2124256290538972496/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2124256290538972496' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2124256290538972496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2124256290538972496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-long-bad-bad-blues.html' title='So long bad, bad blues'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-950336535211344194</id><published>2008-11-26T20:45:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T20:48:16.123-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"What I choose to do,</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Is of no concern to you and your friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I lay my hat may not be my home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;But I will last on my own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's me, and my life&lt;br /&gt;It's my life, it's my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the world to set in the palm of my hand&lt;br /&gt;Not that you'd see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;And I'm tired and bored of waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;And all those things you never do&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's me, and my life&lt;br /&gt;It's my life, it's my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dido - My life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-950336535211344194?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/950336535211344194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=950336535211344194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/950336535211344194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/950336535211344194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-i-choose-to-do.html' title='&quot;&lt;b&gt;What I choose to do,&lt;/b&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8406881589693500247</id><published>2008-11-26T18:04:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T19:33:54.738-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tpm fdp</title><content type='html'>ARGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém merece.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8406881589693500247?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8406881589693500247/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8406881589693500247' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8406881589693500247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8406881589693500247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/tpm-fdp.html' title='Tpm fdp'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6220404478061911899</id><published>2008-11-23T22:12:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T22:26:38.895-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bravery - An honest mistake</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;People&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; They don't mean a thing to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They move right through you&lt;br /&gt;Just like your breath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;But sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I still think of you&lt;br /&gt;And I just wanted to&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted you to know&lt;br /&gt;My old friend...&lt;br /&gt;I swear I never meant for this&lt;br /&gt;I never meant...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;An honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I forget I'm still awake&lt;br /&gt;I fuck up and say these things out loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old friend&lt;br /&gt;I swear I never meant for this&lt;br /&gt;I never meant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;An honest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;Don't look at me that way&lt;br /&gt;It was an honest mistake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; An honest mistake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tradução, n00bs do meu ç2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Pessoas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Elas não significam nada pra você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elas se mexem através você&lt;br /&gt;Assim como sua respiração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Mas às vezes&lt;br /&gt;Eu continuo pensando em você&lt;br /&gt;E eu só queria que&lt;br /&gt;Só queria que você soubesse&lt;br /&gt;Meu velho amigo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu juro que nunca desejei isso&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca desejei...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;Um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes&lt;br /&gt;Eu esqueço que ainda estou acordado&lt;br /&gt;Eu desencano e grito essas coisas alto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu velho amigo&lt;br /&gt;Eu juro que nunca desejei isso&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca desejei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;Um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe desse jeito&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi um engano honesto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Um engano honesto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6220404478061911899?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6220404478061911899/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6220404478061911899' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6220404478061911899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6220404478061911899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/bravery-honest-mistake.html' title='The Bravery - An honest mistake'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-461326551889955892</id><published>2008-11-23T19:35:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T23:12:34.587-02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's me.</title><content type='html'>Não sou o estereótipo da garota perfeitinha, meiga, divertida, educada, comportada, discreta e sensível.&lt;br /&gt;Sou bittersweet [agridoce].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha vida e minha mente são instáveis. Meu mundo é caótico, imprevisível, anárquico e dramático. Minha alma é perturbada, depressiva, temperamental, bipolar, mas sei amar.&lt;br /&gt;E no meio de todo esse caos, dessa minha suposta racionalidade com paixões ilógicas, dessa minha suposta força que mascara uma fragilidade e vulnerabilidade enormes, entre essa pessoa ora heartless bitch, ora meiga, doce e afetuosa, na confusão mais ou menos  harmônica e instável de tudo isso, tudo que sou e represento,&lt;br /&gt;...você seria aquele capaz de me amar exatamente como sou?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-461326551889955892?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/461326551889955892/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=461326551889955892' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/461326551889955892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/461326551889955892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-me.html' title='It&apos;s me.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3713856263788661410</id><published>2008-11-21T21:59:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T22:06:06.557-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vícios de linguagem</title><content type='html'>Além de paavrões, acabei de perceber que estou usando muito:&lt;br /&gt;• Sei lá&lt;br /&gt;• Véi&lt;br /&gt;• Cara&lt;br /&gt;• Pô, maneiro/ Pô, legal&lt;br /&gt;• Quer um biscoito/ um pão com manteiga?&lt;br /&gt;• Meu&lt;br /&gt;• Flw&lt;br /&gt;• Bjs&lt;br /&gt;• euri&lt;br /&gt;• eutbm&lt;br /&gt;• nemri&lt;br /&gt;• /q&lt;br /&gt;• //q&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;Sim, o post mais inútil ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The BEST I ever had? Oh, c'mon. "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You make me laugh [...] You need to be yourself, you can't be no one else.&lt;/span&gt;" ♫&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E desejo MUITA FORÇA pra duas amigas que estão passando por momentos críticos, e eu queria MUITO poder fazer algo de concreto, mas mesmo minhas boas intenções mudam pouco os fatos. Sempre estarei aqui. Keep living ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3713856263788661410?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3713856263788661410/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3713856263788661410' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3713856263788661410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3713856263788661410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/vcios-de-linguagem.html' title='Vícios de linguagem'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1555973529882220752</id><published>2008-11-16T21:45:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:47:03.596-02:00</updated><title type='text'>So long, loser (:</title><content type='html'>[começou dia 13 de novembro]&lt;br /&gt;Chega de melancolia, angústia, ansiedade.&lt;br /&gt;Chega de mentiras.&lt;br /&gt;Chega de ilusões.&lt;br /&gt;Chega de sentir pena de mim mesma, sentir-me miserável, me vitimizar, achar que o amor é uma droga - não é! É o melhor sentimento do mundo, apenas foi direcionado para alguém indigno dele haha.&lt;br /&gt;Chega de insistir numa relação [relationshi&lt;b&gt;t&lt;/b&gt;] tão sem futuro.&lt;br /&gt;Chega de insônia, oh céus, como é bom uma noite de sono fácil!&lt;br /&gt;Chega de suportar, paciente e indulgentemente, brincadeiras de gosto duvidoso, humilhações e rispidez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuação e update, do dia 16 de novembro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não existem palavras para descrever meu alívio com o fim disso.&lt;br /&gt;Mas alívio talvez seja a palavra exata, bem como alegria.&lt;br /&gt;Eu realmente não me importo mais, não me dói mais nem um pouco todas as patéticas tentativas dele de me ferirem.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho tido noites de sono fácil e profundo como há muito não tinha.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho me sentido tão em paz comigo mesma!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meldels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"I don't really care no more".&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S OVER, LET'S PRAISE THE LORD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long, loser (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pra finalizar, a música mais gay e mais exata,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gloria Gaynor - I will survive 8D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I was afraid, I was petrified.&lt;br /&gt;Kept thinkin' I could never live&lt;br /&gt;Without you by my side,&lt;br /&gt;But then I spent so many nights&lt;br /&gt;Thinkin' how you did me wrong.&lt;br /&gt;And I grew strong&lt;br /&gt;And I learned how to get along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so you're back from outer space.&lt;br /&gt;I just walked in to find you here&lt;br /&gt;With that sad look upon your face.&lt;br /&gt;I should've changed that stupid lock,&lt;br /&gt;I should've made you leave your key,&lt;br /&gt;If I had known, for just one second,&lt;br /&gt;You'd be back to bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now go! Walk out the door!&lt;br /&gt;Just turn around now,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're not welcome anymore!&lt;br /&gt;Weren't you the one&lt;br /&gt;Who tried to hurt me with goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd crumble?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd lay down and die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I! I will survive!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, as long as I know how to love,&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll stay alive!&lt;br /&gt;I've got all my life to live.&lt;br /&gt;I've got all my love to give.&lt;br /&gt;And I'll survive! I will survive!&lt;br /&gt;Hey, Hey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took all the strength I had&lt;br /&gt;Not to fall apart&lt;br /&gt;And trying hard to mend the pieces&lt;br /&gt;Of my broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I spent, oh, so many nights&lt;br /&gt;Just feeling sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;I used to cry,&lt;br /&gt;But now I hold my head up high!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you'll see me, somebody new,&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that chained up little person&lt;br /&gt;Still in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so you felt like droppin' in&lt;br /&gt;And just expect me to be free,&lt;br /&gt;But now I'm savin' all my lovin'&lt;br /&gt;For someone who's lovin' me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go now! Go! Walk out the door!&lt;br /&gt;Just turn around now!&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're not welcome anymore!&lt;br /&gt;Weren't you the one&lt;br /&gt;Who tried to break me with goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd crumble?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd lay down and die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I! I will survive!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, as long as I know how to love&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll stay alive!&lt;br /&gt;I've got all my life to live.&lt;br /&gt;I've got all my love to give.&lt;br /&gt;And I'll survive. I will survive! Oohh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go now! Go! Walk out the door!&lt;br /&gt;Just turn around now!&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're not welcome anymore!&lt;br /&gt;Weren't you the one&lt;br /&gt;Who tried to break me with goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd crumble?&lt;br /&gt;Did you think I'd lay down and die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I! I will survive!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, as long as I know how to love&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll stay alive!&lt;br /&gt;And I've got all my life to live.&lt;br /&gt;And I've got all my love to give.&lt;br /&gt;And I'll survive. I will survive! I will survive!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;No início eu tive medo, fiquei paralisada,&lt;br /&gt;Continuava pensando que jamais conseguiria viver&lt;br /&gt;sem você ao meu lado.&lt;br /&gt;Mas então eu passei muitas noites&lt;br /&gt;Pensando como você me fez mal,&lt;br /&gt;E eu me fortaleci&lt;br /&gt;E eu aprendi como me arranjar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E então você está de volta do outro espaço&lt;br /&gt;Eu só acabei de entrar e te encontro aqui&lt;br /&gt;Com aquela aparência triste no seu rosto.&lt;br /&gt;Eu devia ter mudado aquela fechadura estúpida,&lt;br /&gt;Eu devia ter feito você deixar sua chave&lt;br /&gt;Se eu soubesse, apenas por um segundo,&lt;br /&gt;Que você voltaria para me incomodar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, agora vá! Saia pela porta!&lt;br /&gt;Apenas dê meia volta agora,&lt;br /&gt;Porque você não é mais bem-vindo.&lt;br /&gt;Não foi você&lt;br /&gt;Quem tentou me machucar com o adeus?&lt;br /&gt;Você pensou que eu me rasgaria em pedaços?&lt;br /&gt;Você pensou que eu deitaria e morreria?&lt;br /&gt;Oh não, eu não! Eu vou sobreviver!&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto eu souber como amar,&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que permanecerei viva.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho minha vida toda para viver,&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho meu amor todo para dar e&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou sobreviver,&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou sobreviver! Hey hey ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi preciso toda a força que eu tinha para não cair em pedaços,&lt;br /&gt;E tentando duramente remendar os pedaços&lt;br /&gt;do meu coração partido,&lt;br /&gt;E eu passei muitas noites&lt;br /&gt;Só sentindo pena de mim mesma.&lt;br /&gt;Eu costumava chorar,&lt;br /&gt;Mas agora eu mantenho minha cabeça bem erguida.&lt;br /&gt;E você me veja [como] um novo alguém,&lt;br /&gt;Não sou aquela pessoa insignificante, acorrentada&lt;br /&gt;ainda apaixonada por você...&lt;br /&gt;E então você tem vontade de fazer uma visita&lt;br /&gt;E só me espera pra ser livre...&lt;br /&gt;Agora estou guardando todo meu amor&lt;br /&gt;para alguém que me ame.&lt;br /&gt;Vá agora...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;Não estou mais sobrevivendo.&lt;br /&gt;Estou vivendo :D&lt;br /&gt;[ e ainda mais forte, feliz, e auto-suficiente do que antes. ]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1555973529882220752?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1555973529882220752/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1555973529882220752' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1555973529882220752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1555973529882220752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-long.html' title='So long, loser (:'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2439393867862106396</id><published>2008-11-14T22:32:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T22:33:39.687-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Viver bem/ ser feliz é a melhor vingança."</title><content type='html'>É, mãe, você vacila pacarai mas nisso eu assino embaixo (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2439393867862106396?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2439393867862106396/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2439393867862106396' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2439393867862106396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2439393867862106396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/viver-bem-ser-feliz-melhor-vingana.html' title='&quot;Viver bem/ ser feliz é a melhor vingança.&quot;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3624998658586745511</id><published>2008-11-14T18:45:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T18:46:20.795-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm love again :x</title><content type='html'>AEAEAE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3624998658586745511?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3624998658586745511/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3624998658586745511' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3624998658586745511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3624998658586745511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-love-again-x.html' title='I&apos;m love again :x'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1934533559934316491</id><published>2008-11-12T17:34:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T17:35:53.307-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cansei</title><content type='html'>E depois de oito meses, eu realmente cansei.&lt;br /&gt;Sem ódio ou mágoa ou ressentimento.&lt;br /&gt;Só cansei, simples assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E dessa vez não é tpm nem impulso! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sintam-se orgulhosos de mim, pois eu estou, amém u_u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1934533559934316491?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1934533559934316491/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1934533559934316491' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1934533559934316491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1934533559934316491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/cansei.html' title='Cansei'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4987330586653033984</id><published>2008-11-12T15:15:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T15:17:09.763-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"You traipse on your loved ones,</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Most who will disown you&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll search for a family, those you can destroy&lt;br /&gt;Methodically sickened, by their inhibitions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But rather then fix it- you will just avoid.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Scarling - Stapled to the mattress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4987330586653033984?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4987330586653033984/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4987330586653033984' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4987330586653033984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4987330586653033984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-traipse-on-your-loved-ones.html' title='&lt;u&gt;&quot;You traipse on your loved ones,&lt;/u&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6285611179492477659</id><published>2008-11-12T15:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T15:06:16.487-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"And you don't seem to understand,</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A shame you seemed an honest man&lt;br /&gt;And all the fears you hold so dear&lt;br /&gt;Will turn to whisper in your ear&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what they say might hurt you&lt;br /&gt;And you know that it means so much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And you don't even feel a thing.&lt;br /&gt;Bôa - Duvet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6285611179492477659?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6285611179492477659/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6285611179492477659' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6285611179492477659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6285611179492477659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-you-dont-seem-to-understand.html' title='&lt;b&gt;&quot;And you don&apos;t seem to understand,&lt;/b&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3998157318090344105</id><published>2008-11-10T16:18:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T16:19:57.899-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Todo mundo se comove com Eloá e Nayara e Rachel e talz</title><content type='html'>Mas nego não olha pro próprio rabo quando se trata de empatia para com o próximo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[/DESABAFO INDIGNADO COM A FALTA DE NOÇÃO DO MEUS COLEGAS, DIK]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3998157318090344105?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3998157318090344105/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3998157318090344105' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3998157318090344105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3998157318090344105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/todo-mundo-se-comove-com-elo-e-nayara-e.html' title='Todo mundo se comove com Eloá e Nayara e Rachel e talz'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2542312155161198797</id><published>2008-11-10T15:02:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T15:09:16.421-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dido - No angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If you gave me just a coin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; for every time we say goodbye...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Well, I'd be rich beyond my dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm sorry for my weary life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I know I'm not perfect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; but I can smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I hope that you see this heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; behind my tired eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; If you tell me that I can't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I will, I will, I'll try all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And if I say I'm coming home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'll probably be out all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I know I can be afraid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; but I'm alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I hope that you trust this heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; behind my tired eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'cause I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try and try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I know I'm not around each night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and I know I always think I'm right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and I can believe that you might look around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 'cause I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try and try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt; Se você me desse apenas uma moeda&lt;br /&gt;Por cada vez que dissemos adeus&lt;br /&gt;Bem, eu seria rica além dos meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Desculpe-me pela minha vida deprimente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que não sou perfeita,&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu posso sorrir&lt;br /&gt;E eu espero que veja esse coração&lt;br /&gt;Por trás dos meus olhos cansados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se me disser que eu não posso&lt;br /&gt;Eu tentarei, eu tentarei, eu tentarei a noite toda&lt;br /&gt;E se eu disser que estarei voltando pra casa&lt;br /&gt;Eu provavelmente sairei noite toda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que posso estar assustada,&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu estou viva&lt;br /&gt;E eu espero que acredite nesse coração&lt;br /&gt;Por trás dos meus olhos cansados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas, por favor, não pense que eu não tentarei e&lt;br /&gt;tentarei.&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas isso significa que não posso viver minha&lt;br /&gt;vida?&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas, por favor, não pense que não irei chorar.&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas isso significa que eu não irei voar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que não posso estar por aí toda noite&lt;br /&gt;E eu sei que acho que sempre estou certa&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto de acreditar que você estará à procura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas, por favor, não pense que eu não tentarei e&lt;br /&gt;tentarei.&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas isso significa que não posso viver minha&lt;br /&gt;vida?&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas, por favor, não pense que não irei chorar.&lt;br /&gt;Não sou um anjo, mas isso significa que eu não posso voar?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;xxx&lt;/p&gt;A letra é TOTALMENTE PERFEITA e diz com exatidão como me sinto.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que vou colocar no Disenchanted Lullaby o que cada verso significa pra mim.&lt;br /&gt;Enfim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2542312155161198797?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2542312155161198797/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2542312155161198797' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2542312155161198797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2542312155161198797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/dido-no-angel.html' title='Dido - No angel'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3890502136991939951</id><published>2008-11-10T14:55:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T15:02:03.013-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cranberries - Ridiculous Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Twister does anyone see through you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; You're a twister, an animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But you're so happy now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I didn't go along with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; So happy now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're going to have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;Hold on&lt;br /&gt;Or we're goin' to have to move on&lt;br /&gt;Move on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I feel alright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I cried so hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The ridiculous thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I feel alright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Twister, I shouldn't have trusted you&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Twister&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; It's not going to happen now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; You're not going to make fun of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Happen now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're going to have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;You're going to have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;Hold on&lt;br /&gt;Or we're going to have to move on&lt;br /&gt;Move on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I feel allright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And I cried so hard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The ridiculous thoughts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I should ha' lied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're gonna have to hold on&lt;br /&gt;Hold on&lt;br /&gt;But you're gonna have to hold on to me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mentiroso, oh, ninguém percebe suas intenções?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você é um mentiroso, oh, um animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você está tão feliz, ow, eu não fui adiante com você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você está tão feliz, ow, ah na na na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter quer se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar, se segurar, se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou nós teremos que ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nós teremos que ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou nós teremos que ir embora, ir embora, ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Aaah naaa na na... Me sinto bem e eu chorei tanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Os pensamentos ridículos, ah ah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu me sinto bem, bem, bem, bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mentiroso, oh, eu não deveria ter confiado em você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mentiroso, ow, ah na na na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Isso não vai acontecer agora, você não vai brincar comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Acontecer agora, ah na na na&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter que se segurar, se segurar, se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou nós teremos que ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Nós teremos que ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ou nós teremos que ir embora, ir embora, ir embora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Aaah naaa na na... Me sinto bem e eu chorei tanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Os pensamentos ridículos, ah ow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Me sinto bem, bem, bem, bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Aaah haaa ah ha... Você não deveria mentir mas eu chorei tanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Os pensamentos ridículos, ah ow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você não deveria mentir, ria mentir, ria mentir, ria mentir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar, se segurar, se segurar, se segurar,se segurar, se segurar, se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas você vai ter que se segurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você vai ter que se segurar em mim.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3890502136991939951?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3890502136991939951/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3890502136991939951' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3890502136991939951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3890502136991939951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/cranberries-ridiculous-thoughts.html' title='The Cranberries - Ridiculous Thoughts'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4407306901472408974</id><published>2008-11-03T16:37:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T15:10:54.355-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"My wasted heart will always love you"</title><content type='html'>But it's time to mend my life and wave goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4407306901472408974?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4407306901472408974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4407306901472408974' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4407306901472408974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4407306901472408974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-wasted-heart-will-always-love-you.html' title='&quot;My wasted heart will always love you&quot;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4221157727795338652</id><published>2008-10-30T22:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:12:11.575-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Amores/ paixões platônicas</title><content type='html'>O tic tic insistente do despertador anunciava o início de mais um dia. Com um resmungo, Dária desligou-o. Muito a contragosto, levantou-se e se arrumou. Tinha de ir à aula.&lt;br /&gt;  Como de costume, pegou um ônibus. A escola não era tão distante assim, mas o suficiente para lhe dar preguiça.&lt;br /&gt;      E foi naquele dia que Dária compreendeu a efemeridade de bons momentos.&lt;br /&gt;    Ela jamais soube seu nome, mas o fato é que ele era lindíssimo, alto e bronzeado. Olhos castanhos, cabelos negros. Sentado sozinho em um assento na janela, Dária casualmente foi para o assento do outro lado do corredor que lhe permitia uma visão privilegiada de seu perfil. Dária apaixonou-se. "Meu Deus", pensou ela, com um riso silencioso e  amargurado. "Combina perfeitamente com a patética figura que sou, apaixonar-se por um cara com quem jamais sequer conversou." Mas não podia evitar, paixões tem sua própria e insondável lógica, embora por vezes aparentem a ausência da mesma.&lt;br /&gt; Dária apaixonou-se, mas além da própria timidez e insegurança quando gostava de alguém, um telefonema pôs a perder suas esperanças. O celular do garoto tocou. Palavrinhas de amor. Risos. "Como é bonito o riso dele! Franco, sincero, forte", pensou ela. Na verdade, provavelmente ele tinha um riso normal e comum de garoto, mas aos olhos da paixão, tudo adquire uma dimensão maior do que realmente tem, ou merece ter, ou teria, se a pessoa não estivesse apaixonada.&lt;br /&gt;  Já não bastasse sua timidez, insegurança e falta de jeito para chegar num garoto, escolher um tema interessante de conversa ou até simular um encontrão, agora havia a questão dos princípios. Dária sabia que seus escrúpulos simplesmente não permitiriam que ela investisse num garoto que tinha namorada. Suspirou.&lt;br /&gt; "Discordo de Mário Quintana. Se as coisas são inatingíveis, sim, É motivo para não querê-las. Para que se torturar desejando o impossível? Só me resta esquecê-lo. Ao menos existe essa vantagem de ter um coração volúvel." Apesar de racionalmente pensar assim, o coração e os olhos eram outros quinhentos, e não pôde se impedir de admirar o garoto até seu ponto. Desceu do ônibus.&lt;br /&gt;   Dária por algum tempo se sentiu triste, e patética. "Minhas amigas não riem de mim, pois sabem que estou chateada e não são assim TÃO insensíveis. Mas vejo que quando puderem, rirão, e muito. Sacanas."&lt;br /&gt;  Transcorridas algumas semanas, porém, seu pensamento mudou, pois a razão vinha e chutava para longe a paixão. E chegou a conclusões que não supunha. "Foi uma paixão platônica.Mas, se você pensar, não são melhores essas paixões? Podem ser impossíveis. Podem nunca acontecer. Pode existir apenas na sua mente. Mas por isso, não acaba. É terna. É sincera. Não se deixa contaminar pela realidade. Você nunca vai brigar com o ser amado. Nunca vai escutar um 'Nunca mais quero te ver, sai da minha vida, cretina". Você pode sofrer por a pessoa não ter ciência da sua existência. Mas não sofrerá por ela te desprezar, odiar, ignorar fria e conscientemente. Vocês podem nunca serem amigos, mas ao menos, você não terá a dor de um dia tornarem-se apenas como estranhos bem-educados um com o outro. Ou mal educados. E até inimigos."&lt;br /&gt; "Foi o amor que não aconteceu. Mas sabe-se lá se não foi melhor assim?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desenterrando uma crônica que escrevi pra escola, simplesmente para poder publicar em algum lugar minha teoria sobre a superioridade dos amores platônicos.&lt;br /&gt;[ que não mantenho mais - amor real é mais...real. ]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4221157727795338652?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4221157727795338652/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4221157727795338652' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4221157727795338652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4221157727795338652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/06/amores-paixes-platnicas.html' title='Amores/ paixões platônicas'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8490340058971021521</id><published>2008-10-30T16:40:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T16:47:15.616-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Beatles - In my life</title><content type='html'>Como os mais informadjinhos sabem, eu não gosto de Beatles [ embora ame Oasis, que paga pau descaradamente para eles ]. Mas essa música é izbezial, pela letra que eu me identifico tanto.&lt;br /&gt;Vamos lá:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ym0x3vTw6yc&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ym0x3vTw6yc&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There are places I remember all my life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Though some have changed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some forever, not for better,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some have gone and some remain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All these places had their moments&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;With lovers and friends I still can recall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Some are dead and some are living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In my life I've loved them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But of all these friends and lovers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is no one compares with you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And these memories lose their meaning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When I think of love as something new.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Though I know I'll never lose affection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For people and things that went before,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know I'll often stop and think about them,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In my life I'll love you more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Though I know I'll never lose affection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For people and things that went before,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know I'll often stop and think about them,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In my life I'll love you more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In my life I'll love you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Há lugares dos quais vou me lembrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; por toda a minha vida, embora alguns tenham mudado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Alguns para sempre, e não para melhor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Alguns se foram e outros permanecem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Todos esses lugares tiveram seus momentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Com amores e amigos, dos quais ainda posso me lembrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Alguns estão mortos e outros estão vivendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Em minha vida, já amei todos eles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas de todos esses amigos e amores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Não há ninguém que se compare a você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; E essas memórias perdem o sentido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Quando eu penso em amor como uma coisa nova&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Embora eu saiba que eu nunca vou perder o afeto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; por pessoas e coisas que vieram antes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu sei que com freqüência eu vou parar e pensar nelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Em minha vida, eu amo mais a você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Embora eu saiba que eu nunca vou perder o afeto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; por pessoas e coisas que vieram antes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu sei que com freqüência eu vou parar e pensar nelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Em minha vida, eu amo mais a você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Em minha vida...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu amo mais a você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In my life, I'll love you more ♫&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8490340058971021521?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8490340058971021521/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8490340058971021521' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8490340058971021521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8490340058971021521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/beatles-in-my-life.html' title='Beatles - In my life'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4635264384938048004</id><published>2008-10-29T16:37:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T18:59:33.159-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Você acredita...</title><content type='html'>1.[em amor?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;2.[em amor a primeira vista?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;3.[em amizade verdadeira?] Sim&lt;br /&gt;4.[em si mesmo (a)?] Depende.&lt;br /&gt;5.[em Deus?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;6.[em Deuses?] Depende.&lt;br /&gt;7.[em perdão?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;8.[em céu?] Não penso nisso.&lt;br /&gt;9.[em inferno?] Não penso nisso.&lt;br /&gt;10.[em almas gêmeas?] Olha, depende.&lt;br /&gt;11.[na Teoria do Big Bang?] Sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;12.[em Monstro do armário?] Não, se acreditasse tava ferrada, meu armário não tem uma porta.&lt;br /&gt;13.[em monstro embaixo da cama?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;14.[em espíritos?] Sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;15.[em fadas?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;16.[em duendes?] Não ô_o&lt;br /&gt;17.[em aliens?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;18.[em reencarnação?] Acho que sim, sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;19.[no professor de matemática?] q&lt;br /&gt;20.[no seu chefe?] Não tenho, HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;21.[nos políticos?] Eu tenho cara de otária? Ok, tenho, mas é só a cara. NÃO.&lt;br /&gt;22.[na Conspiração no Orkut?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;23.[que Jesus era um X-men?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;24.[que as Pirâmides do Egito foram construídas por aliens?] Sei lá véi.&lt;br /&gt;25.[que mesmo se fodendo as pessoas se divertem?] SIIIIM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No seu quarto...:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.[quantos guarda-roupas?] 1, com &lt;s&gt;3 portas&lt;/s&gt; que deveria ter 3 portas mas tem 2.&lt;br /&gt;27.[o que há dentro dele(s)?] Roupas, sapatos e bolsas.&lt;br /&gt;28.[sua cama é de casal, solteiro ou beliche?] Solteiro.&lt;br /&gt;29.[tem escrivaninha?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;30.[o que há em cima dela?] Eu jogo tudo ali quando tô com preguiça de arrumar, haha.&lt;br /&gt;31.[possui tapete?] Tem, um na frente da cama que eu ainda não entendi pra que serve, já que nem sua função estética cumpre, uma vez que é bem feinho.&lt;br /&gt;32.[seu quarto está sempre arrumado?] ...NÃO.&lt;br /&gt;33.[você procura jogar suas coisas em um lugar específico dele?] Em cima da cama e na hora de dormir, chão ou escrivaninha [e jogar as roupas numa prateleira semi-vazia do guarda-roupa]&lt;br /&gt;34.[a televisão e/ou o computador e/ou som ficam no seu quarto?] Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No seu banheiro...:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.[quantos shampoos?] Três.&lt;br /&gt;2.[quantos sabonetes?] Quatro.&lt;br /&gt;3.[o que há dentro dos armários?] Uma pá de coisa, sou uma menine vaidosa.&lt;br /&gt;4.[seu chuveiro costuma ficar no verão, inverno ou desligado?] Sei lá, acho que inverno.&lt;br /&gt;5.[você costuma deixar suas roupas íntimas penduradas no registro (lugar onde você liga e desliga o chuveiro)?] Não, o cesto de roupa suja da área de serviço é mais adequado.&lt;br /&gt;6.[deixa a toalha na porta do Box?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;7.[se enxuga dentro ou fora do Box?] Fora.&lt;br /&gt;8.[quantas escovas de dente tem no armário?] Acho que umas 5, mesmo sendo três pessoas que usam haha.&lt;br /&gt;9.[o sabonete fica de enfeite ou você o usa (vamos lá, sinceridade!)?] Eu uso ô_o Um Protex de uns 500ml não é o enfeite mais lindo do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;10.[você canta embaixo do chuveiro?] Raramente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Computador...:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.[em que tipo de mesa ele fica?] Não sei classificar.&lt;br /&gt;12.[como é seu mouse pad?] Compridão, com uma paisagem e calendário.&lt;br /&gt;13.[como é seu mouse?] Bem pequeno [gente estranha não consegue usar direito, aliás], cinza e óptico.&lt;br /&gt;14.[e seu monitor?] Dois tons de cinza.&lt;br /&gt;15.[tem webcam?] Nope.&lt;br /&gt;16.[tem microfone?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;17.[possui caixas de som?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;18.[qual o estado do seu teclado?] Bom. Apesar de algumas letras apagadas.&lt;br /&gt;19.[como é seu wallpaper?] Colinas do windows (y)&lt;br /&gt;20.[você possui muitas pastas?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;21.[tem muitos cd’s de jogos?] Nenhum.&lt;br /&gt;22.[muitas mp3?] Uns 4 giga, mas muita coisa eu não ouço.&lt;br /&gt;23.[muitos programas (de tv) no pc?] Só House ♥&lt;br /&gt;24.[como é sua área de trabalho?] Sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;25.[possui quantos messenger?] Um ou dois.&lt;br /&gt;26.[tem muitos amigos na sua lista do messenger?] Em torno de 120, já que nego que não fala comigo aaama me adicionar. ¬¬&lt;br /&gt;27.[em quantos grupos seu messenger está dividido?] 4, sendo que o "outros contatos" tem 87 XD Sou preguiçosa pra arrumar isso.&lt;br /&gt;28.[possui ICQ?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;29.[possui mIRC?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;30.[possui messenger do yahoo?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;31.[possui BitComet?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;32.[possui clubbox?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;33.[possui fórum?] Ahn?&lt;br /&gt;34.[possui site?] Esse blog conta?&lt;br /&gt;35.[possui fotolog?] Uns antigos perdidos que eu nunca atualizo, não gosto.&lt;br /&gt;36.[possui my space?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;37.[possui orkut?] Sim.&lt;br /&gt;38.[possui live journal?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;39.[possui Deviant Art?] Não.&lt;br /&gt;40.[alguma vez já dormiu na frente do computador?] ER, NÃO? Ô_O&lt;br /&gt;41.[qual o seu emotion ou tipo de emotion favorito?] /q, euri, eutbm, nemri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- google_ad_section_end --&gt; &lt;!-- google_ad_section_start(weight=ignore) --&gt;Que tipo de idiota vai ler isso tudo, sei lá.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4635264384938048004?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4635264384938048004/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4635264384938048004' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4635264384938048004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4635264384938048004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/voc-acredita.html' title='Você acredita...'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4201129793031629179</id><published>2008-10-29T15:20:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T16:08:19.854-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Coisas simples/bobas que me deixam feliz</title><content type='html'>A pedido/sugestão do Migueluxo, o miguxo da galere [ou não]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lá vai:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Elogios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma coisa tão simples e que me deixa beeem feliz. Logicamente, quando são desinteressados. Uma coisa é amigo meu falar de brincadeira "Giovaaana, amiga do meu coração, tem 50 centavos?", outra é gente semi-conhecida falar algo do tipo SÉRIO, e achando que eu sou idiota a ponto de acreditar. Enfim, elogios de qualquer tipo me deixam extremamente feliz, quando são sinceros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gestos de carinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na mesma linha dos elogios. Outro dia um amiga especialmente querida [alô Carol da ciências sociais!]  me trouxe uns biscoitos com um bilhetinho. Quer dizer, quer coisa mais FOFA?! Eu fiquei super super super feliz, e guardei o bilhete numa caixinha fofa na minha escrivaninha.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou fácil de agradar. Simplesmente dizer que sentiu minha falta num dia desses já me alegra bastante. Obviamente, quando as pessoas são sinceras. Porque também tem nego que mal fala comigo e de repente "aaaah, eu amo essa garota". Eu fico tipo "oi? Er, valeu?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tomar suco no recreio do francês&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ISSO SIM é algo realmente bobo que me deixa extasiada. Meu francês é às terças-feiras, numa sala quente as hell, e a tarde INTEIRA, tipo, da 13h40min às 16h40min. Então, estou eu lá, com o ventilador na minha cara e ainda assim derretendo, e bate o sinal pro recreio [vou falar "recreio" até a faculdade, intervalo é o cac*te, valeu]. Aí, eu pego meus dois reais [tem suco até mais barato] e tomo um suco beeeem gelado na lanchonete. Suco de polpa. MEU DEUS, não existe coisa melhor. [sim, existe, colocarem um ar condicionado na maldita sala, mas ok, ninguém paga a APAAM, eu entendo]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;b&gt;Sol/ Claridade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outra coisa boba da qual eu faço muita questão. Meu apartamento é bem ensolarado e claro, e, a diferença que isso faz no meu humor é enorme. Também, se você mora quase sua vida toda numa casa escura, fria e úmida, numa cidade litorânea úmida horrores e constantemente nublada, sol, calor e claridade começam a ser uma besteira extremamente bem-vinda. E é só começar a época de chuvas que meu humor cai. Um pouco ou muito, depende. Mas convenhamos: naquele dia em que você acorda meio com o pé esquerdo,  a chuva torrencial lá fora com certeza não ajuda. Não para mim, ao menos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ver meus amigos/ uma pessoa izbezial específica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ai que gay] Ver meus amigos/ o cretinozinho a quem eu amo me fazem ganhar o dia. Mesmo que seja rapidinho, poxa, surpresas agradáveis são legais. Pessoas queridas são sempre legais de se ver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lembrarem de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando as pessoas comentam algo que eu disse faz tempo, ou fiz, ou sei lá, mas de uma forma geral eu vejo que se lembram de mim, nossa, é ótimo.&lt;br /&gt;[já deu pra perceber que eu sou um bocado carente? Rere]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Presentinhos bobos/simples/inesperados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como quando meu irmão me traz um chocolate ou algo assim, isso é bem legal e eu gosto bastante [e quando é algo não-comestível, eu guardo].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;b&gt;Banho e "sessão de beleza" quando estou mal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando estou triste, ou irritada, ou mal de uma forma geral, banho loooongo lavando o cabelo [obrigatoriamente] e seguido ou não de maquiagem, arrumação pra sair e blá, nossa, melhora MUITO meu humor. Eu fico bem revigorada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dinheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é bobo nem simples, mas eu fico tooooda saltitante quando recebo minha mesada ou um extra :D Adoooro comprar coisas, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deve ter mais coisas das quais não me lembro agora, dik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que é isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4201129793031629179?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4201129793031629179/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4201129793031629179' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4201129793031629179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4201129793031629179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/coisas-simplesbobas-que-me-deixam-feliz.html' title='Coisas simples/bobas que me deixam feliz'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2043173902674965630</id><published>2008-10-26T16:39:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T16:56:07.088-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dica da Giovana de hoje</title><content type='html'>Se você quer esquecer alguém, alguém que você gosta demais mas já te magoou pacarai, é altamente recomendado que não imprima uma foto da pessoa, para ficar olhando a cada 5min, e suspirando, ou falando "NHÉÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ".&lt;br /&gt;É tortura, auto-mutilação e coisa de retardado.&lt;br /&gt;Fikdik.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2043173902674965630?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2043173902674965630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2043173902674965630' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2043173902674965630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2043173902674965630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/dica-da-giovana-de-hoje.html' title='Dica da Giovana de hoje'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6440252197006136298</id><published>2008-10-25T16:13:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T16:13:55.912-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Guerra dos sexos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="HOTWordsTxt" name="HOTWordsTxt"&gt;   &lt;div class="postContent"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Para fazer as pazes com ela: telefone vinte vezes, peça perdão, implore clemência, rasteje, descarte sua dignidade, declare-se vil e abjeto, compre flores, faça a barba. Leve-a para viajar, para jantar, para dançar. Seja gentil e compreensivo, aceite todas as ofensas e concorde efusivamente com elas, faça promessas, jure por Deus e por sua mãe. Chore.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Para fazer as pazes com ele: calcinha nova."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;From:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.circoarmado.com.br/jesusmechicoteia/guerra-dos-sexos/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EURI, MUITO. E concordo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6440252197006136298?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6440252197006136298/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6440252197006136298' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6440252197006136298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6440252197006136298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/guerra-dos-sexos.html' title='&quot;Guerra dos sexos'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8310071476384862996</id><published>2008-10-23T16:24:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T17:10:49.943-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Caso Eloá &amp; Naiara</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Não, isso não é um post sobre o caso atual de comoção nacional, o seqüestro das adolescentes Eloá e Naiara.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eu não vou nem falar sobre o caso, pois todos já devem estar cientes sobre os detalhes e etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;   Farei simplesmente uma crítica a esse alarde todo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Primeiramente, pelos motivos disso. Seria porque elas eram jovens? Bonitas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Uma morte é uma tragédia; a de milhões, uma estatística." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A questão é que toda vida tem o mesmo valor. Certas pessoas podem ter mais valor do que outras, mas a vida é sagrada e inviolável, incondicionalmente&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cada caso de morte violenta é um absurdo, é uma perda enorme - não são números. "Morrem x pessoas por ano devido a homicídios na Grande São Paulo". E cada pessoa dentre esse "x" era um ser humano, com sentimentos tão complexos, sutis ou profundos quanto os seus ou meus. Com sonhos roubados, despedaçados. Com uma vida ceifada. Com, no mínimo, uma pessoa que derramará lágrimas por dias, semanas, meses ou anos, por perder um amigo, um irmão, um colega, um amor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mas as pessoas se esquecem disso. Por uma ou outra razão, certas mortes violentas têm uma cobertura MUITO maior da mídia do que outras. E isso varia com a época, também. Já foi o caso da Suzane von Richthofen, do menino João Hélio, Isabella Nardoni, etc. E eu condeno isso.&lt;br /&gt;   Eu condeno essa mídia que noticia rotineiramente essas mortes, de forma que nossa sociedade tenha tornado-se alienada, anestesiada. Que seja necessário algo tão obviamente violento e absurdo para chocar-nos. E mesmo com o choque, a revolta, o horror, tão pouco se faz a respeito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uma camiseta "não à violência", um post num blog, uma passeata - atitudes isoladas muitas vezes recheadas de boas intenções, porém, enquanto forem casos isolados, não serão mais do que tijolos no muro.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Acordem. O triste caso dessas meninas não foi o primeiro e tampouco será o último, a menos que façamos algo a respeito.&lt;/span&gt; Ou depositaremos a responsabilidade em nossos governantes? Ou lamentaremos, nos revoltaremos, poremos no orkut um "Eloá, vá em paz", por um tempo? Diga-me, boa vontade passiva adianta alguma coisa? Pois eu não acho.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quando alguém perde uma pessoa próxima, por uma causa violenta - um assalto, por exemplo -, ah, aí é uma tragédia. Claro que sim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;p&gt;TODA morte é uma tragédia, uma perda incalculável. Cada morte violenta é um absurdo, uma vida, um ser humano - e TUDO que isso representa - a menos, por razões muitas vezes tão tolas, mesquinhas, superficiais.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Só existem duas opções nessa vida: se resignar ou se indignar. E eu não vou me resignar nunca."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais humanidade, mais fraternidade, menos passividade, menos egoísmo não nos faria mal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8310071476384862996?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8310071476384862996/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8310071476384862996' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8310071476384862996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8310071476384862996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/caso-elo-naiara.html' title='Caso Eloá &amp; Naiara'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7265334232684823784</id><published>2008-10-18T01:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T01:14:13.494-03:00</updated><title type='text'>QUERO MAIS É QUE SE FODA</title><content type='html'>TUDO E TODOS, BJSMINLIGA :*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7265334232684823784?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7265334232684823784/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7265334232684823784' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7265334232684823784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7265334232684823784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/quero-mais-que-se-foda.html' title='QUERO MAIS É QUE SE FODA'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-3949318326411251487</id><published>2008-10-07T20:23:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T23:18:17.132-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Avril Lavigne - Nobody's Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I couldn't tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Why she felt that way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She felt it everyday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I couldn't help her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I just watched her make&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; The same mistakes again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; What's wrong, what's wrong now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Too many, too many problems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Don't know where she belongs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Where she belongs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (Chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She wants to go home, but nobody's home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; That's where she lies, broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; With no place to go, no place to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; To dry her eyes, broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Open your eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And look outside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Find the reason why (why)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; You've been rejected (you've been rejected)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And now you can't find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; What you left behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Be strong, be strong now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Too many too many problems&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Don't know where she belongs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Where she belongs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (Chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She wants to go home, but nobody's home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; That's where she lies, broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; With no place to go, no place to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; To dry her eyes broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Her feeling she hides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Her dream she can't find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's losing her mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's falling behind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She can't find her place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's losing her faith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's falling from grace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's all over the place (yeah!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (Chorus)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She wants to go home, but nobody's home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; That's where she lies, broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; With no place to go, no place to go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; To dry her eyes broken inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's lost inside, lost inside (oh, oh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; She's lost inside, lost inside (oh, oh, yeah)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu não saberia te dizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Por que ela se sentia daquele jeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela se sentia assim todos os dias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Eu não podia ajudá-la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Só a assistia cometer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Os mesmos erros novamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; O que está errado, o que está errado agora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Problemas demais, demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela não sabe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A que lugar ela pertence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela quer ir pra casa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas não tem ninguém lá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; É onde ela fica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sem lugar pra onde ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; nenhum lugar para ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Abra seus olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; E olhe lá fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Descubra o motivo pelo qual&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Você foi rejeitada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; E agora você não pode encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; O que deixou pra trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Seja forte, seja forte agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Problemas demais, demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela não sabe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A que lugar ela pertence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela quer ir pra casa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas não tem ninguém lá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; É onde ela fica,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sem lugar pra onde ir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; nenhum lugar para ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seus sentimentos, ela esconde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seus sonhos, ela não consegue encontrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está perdendo a cabeça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Está caindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela não consegue achar seu lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está perdendo a fé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está sem esperanças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está por aí (yeah!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela quer ir pra casa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Mas não tem ninguém lá&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; É onde ela fica,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sem lugar pra onde ir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; nenhum lugar pra ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Despedaçada por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está perdida por dentro, perdida por dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ela está perdida por dentro, perdida por dentro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;xxx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A letra é perfeita e eu me idenfifico 100%. E sim, eu gostava pacas de Avril, apesar de ela ter virado bitch (antes ela era poser de rebelde, mas eu, pré-adolescente bobinha, não percebia isso). Seja como for, a letra diz tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-3949318326411251487?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/3949318326411251487/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=3949318326411251487' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3949318326411251487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/3949318326411251487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/10/avril-lavigne-nobodys-home.html' title='Avril Lavigne - Nobody&apos;s Home'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1838098307102409569</id><published>2008-09-30T13:04:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T13:05:36.964-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartache.</title><content type='html'>E quando a dor emocional chega a tal ponto que torna-se física,&lt;br /&gt;Quando seu coração parece pesado e a dor densa e por todo o peito,&lt;br /&gt;E ainda assim, você é incapaz de dizer diretamente isso para alguém,&lt;br /&gt;Quando torna-se visivelmente insuportável,&lt;br /&gt;Quando você jura que não agüenta mais,&lt;br /&gt;E ainda assim, não consegue pedir ajuda,&lt;br /&gt;Como faz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;From: &lt;a href="http://mimimi-argh.blogspot.com"&gt;Disenchanted Lullaby&lt;/a&gt;, meu blog de desabafos de acesso restrito. Quem quiser o convite, avisa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1838098307102409569?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1838098307102409569/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1838098307102409569' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1838098307102409569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1838098307102409569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/09/heartache.html' title='Heartache.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7731217387764743295</id><published>2008-09-21T12:32:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T13:05:20.524-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Juventude perdida.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Minha geração está perdida. Sem sacanagem, é verdade. E o mundo, portanto, está fadado ao fracasso, afinal, somos os futuros adultos que farão - ou, levando a situação atual, &lt;i&gt;NÃO farão&lt;/i&gt; (ô galerinha apática, viu) - algo para torná-lo um lugar melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Os jovens em outras épocas utilizavam de toda a rebeldia, paixão e intensidade característicos da idade para tentar promover um mundo melhor. Hoje em dia, a revolta é contra os pais que deram-lhe uma surra porque chegou bêbado em casa às quatro da manhã, ou não lhes aumentaram a mesada, ou mesmo reclamaram de suas notas baixas. Para que se preocupar com o mundo, com a violência, desigualdades, corrupção, se você pode dançar créu, beber umas e outras, deixar o maior número possível de desconhecidos enfiar a língua na sua boca, e se alienar cada vez mais?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;É triste ver isso. Triste mesmo. O fim de uma banda (péssima e medíocre, por sinal) - RBD - mobiliza muitíssimo mais gente do que escândalos de todo o tipo - na política, nas mortes cruéis por vezes cometidas por uma polícia ineficiente, desqualificada e com carta branca para matar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Adolescentes (crianças ridículas, no fundo) de doze anos se alcoolizam como se fosse algo natural. Porque os pais e os amiguinhos enchem a cara em festas, consideram ter esse direito. Mas se bebidas alcóolicas são proibidas para  menores, existe uma razão - tem de haver. O infeliz:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Está em formação - não conhece direito o mundo e a vida, e até seu desenvolvimento psicológico pode ser afetado pelas Birinight'a da vida, apenas pra "curtir". Vide a imbecil da Christiane F. e seus comentários imaturos em entrevistas;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, principalmente:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Não tem maturidade e muito menos responsabilidade para encarar as conseqüências de seus porres inocentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A vida não é uma grande piada ou brincadeira. Não só isso, ao menos.&lt;/p&gt;Nosso destino em grande parte é uma incógnita, no entanto, "Para toda ação, existe uma reação". Você é fruto não só do azar e sorte, mas de suas escolhas. Afinal, são elas que no fundo vão caracterizar você, pois foram coisas que você optou. Você raciocinou, renunciou a algo, para fazê-las.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;RESUMINDO: Encha a cara e entre em coma alcóolico aos quinze anos, loser. Faça o quiser, mas enfrente as conseqüências.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(o post poderia estar melhor. Enfim. Dedicado a Carol, que pediu para eu voltar a postar ♥. )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7731217387764743295?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7731217387764743295/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7731217387764743295' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7731217387764743295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7731217387764743295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/09/juventude-perdida.html' title='Juventude perdida.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8097566878524030897</id><published>2008-09-10T22:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T22:02:40.705-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/06/19/para-desapaixonar-com-dignidade/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/08/21/10-passos-para-fazer-alguem-desencanar-de-voce/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/07/14/como-dar-um-pe-na-bunda-com-classe/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/08/13/como-agradar-uma-mulher/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/08/02/como-parecer-descolado-mesmo-voce-sendo-um-palerminha/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://lanhousedopurgatorio.wordpress.com/2008/08/07/o-que-fazer-numa-situacao-de-socializacao-forcada/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só porque eu MORRI DE RIR :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8097566878524030897?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8097566878524030897/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8097566878524030897' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8097566878524030897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8097566878524030897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/09/httplanhousedopurgatorio.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8967073632219932465</id><published>2008-08-04T16:00:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T16:03:17.717-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Empty</title><content type='html'>Something has left my life&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know where it went to&lt;br /&gt;Somebody caused me strife&lt;br /&gt;And it's not what I was seeking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't you see me didn't you hear me&lt;br /&gt;Didn't you see me standing there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did you turn out the lights&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that I was sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say a prayer for me&lt;br /&gt;Help me to feel the strength I did&lt;br /&gt;My identity has it been taken&lt;br /&gt;Is my heart breaking on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause my plans they fell through my hands&lt;br /&gt;They fell through my hands on me&lt;br /&gt;All my dreams it suddenly seems it suddenly seems&lt;br /&gt;empty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Cranberries ~ Empty.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8967073632219932465?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8967073632219932465/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8967073632219932465' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8967073632219932465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8967073632219932465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/08/empty.html' title='Empty'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1635251792739070427</id><published>2008-07-13T21:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:50:04.297-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Trecho da Carta de Paulo aos Coríntios [ Bíblia ]</title><content type='html'>"&lt;b&gt;Ainda que eu fale as línguas dos homens&lt;br /&gt;e dos anjos, se não tiver amor,&lt;br /&gt;serei como o bronze que soa, ou como o címbalo que retine.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que eu tenha o dom de profetizar&lt;br /&gt;e conheça todos os mistérios e toda a ciência;&lt;br /&gt;ainda que eu tenha tamanha fé, a ponto de transportar montanhas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;se não tiver amor, nada serei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ainda que eu distribua todos os&lt;br /&gt;meus bens entre os pobres&lt;br /&gt;e ainda que entregue meu próprio&lt;br /&gt;corpo para ser queimado,&lt;br /&gt;se não tiver amor,&lt;br /&gt;nada disso me aproveitará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;O amor é paciente, é benigno,&lt;br /&gt;o amor não arde em ciúmes,&lt;br /&gt;não se ufana, não se ensoberbece,&lt;br /&gt;não se conduz inconvenientemente,&lt;br /&gt;não procura seus interesses,&lt;br /&gt;não se exaspera,&lt;br /&gt;não se ressente do mal;&lt;br /&gt;não se alegra com a injustiça,&lt;br /&gt;mas regozija-se com a verdade.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo sofre, tudo crê, tudo espera,&lt;br /&gt;tudo suporta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O amor jamais acaba. &lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas havendo profecias, desaparecerão;&lt;br /&gt;havendo línguas, cessarão;&lt;br /&gt;havendo ciência, passará.&lt;br /&gt;Porque em parte conhecemos,&lt;br /&gt;e em parte profetizamos.&lt;br /&gt;Quando, porém, vier o que é perfeito,&lt;br /&gt;o que então é em parte será aniquilado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu era menino, falava como um&lt;br /&gt;menino, sentia como um menino.&lt;br /&gt;Quando chegui a ser homem,&lt;br /&gt;desisti das coisas próprias de menino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque agora vemos como em espelho,&lt;br /&gt;obscuramente, e então veremos face a face;&lt;br /&gt;agora conheço em parte, e então&lt;br /&gt;conhecerei como sou conhecido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, pois, permanecem a Fé,&lt;br /&gt;a Esperança, e o Amor.&lt;br /&gt;Estes três.&lt;br /&gt;Porém o maior deles é o Amor." &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1635251792739070427?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1635251792739070427/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1635251792739070427' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1635251792739070427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1635251792739070427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/07/trecho-da-carta-de-paulo-aos-corntios.html' title='Trecho da Carta de Paulo aos Coríntios [ Bíblia ]'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-739936836487661761</id><published>2008-06-15T18:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T18:07:35.953-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Laisse-moi te dessiner dans un désert&lt;br /&gt;Le désert de mon coeur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans la nuit parfois, le nez à la fenêtre&lt;br /&gt;Je t'attends et je sombre&lt;br /&gt;Dans un désert, dans mon désert, voilà&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh mon amour, mon coeur est lourd."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Emilie Simon - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;Désert&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-739936836487661761?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/739936836487661761/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=739936836487661761' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/739936836487661761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/739936836487661761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/06/laisse-moi-te-dessiner-dans-un-dsert-le.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5846618168783286322</id><published>2008-05-27T19:45:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T19:48:19.479-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Bala Perdida</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Acorda, levanta, vai ganhar a vida...&lt;br /&gt;(Disparos)&lt;br /&gt;... passou tão rápida."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Wilson Freire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5846618168783286322?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5846618168783286322/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5846618168783286322' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5846618168783286322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5846618168783286322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/05/bala-perdida.html' title='&lt;center&gt;&quot;Bala Perdida&lt;/center&gt;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7488803824615435895</id><published>2008-05-12T22:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T19:53:04.619-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog novo</title><content type='html'>Para desabafos ou coisas execessivamente pessoais :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mimimi-argh.blogspot.com"&gt;Mimimi&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porém, acesso restrito. HÁ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7488803824615435895?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7488803824615435895/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7488803824615435895' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7488803824615435895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7488803824615435895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/05/blog-novo.html' title='Blog novo'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5229430734005189974</id><published>2008-05-03T16:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T16:41:06.340-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Layout "novo"</title><content type='html'>Já foi meu layout há algum tempo atrás, mas, como os layouts são um medidor para o meu humor/vida ["Minha vida é um &lt;s&gt;SACO&lt;/s&gt; livro aberto"], eu mudei, e agora, retornei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto, reflete bem minha essência bittersweet [agridoce], tem xadrez, tem preto, tem rosa [que eu gosto, embora prefira roxo/lilás] e &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;eu quero&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, fim de questão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E emo é &lt;s&gt;o cacete&lt;/s&gt; a mãe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E EU RECOLOCO AS LISTAS QUANDO EU QUISER, NINGUÉM LÊ MESMO.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5229430734005189974?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5229430734005189974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5229430734005189974' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5229430734005189974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5229430734005189974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/05/layout-novo.html' title='Layout &quot;novo&quot;'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2871803999925590625</id><published>2008-04-29T20:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T20:35:20.860-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Dido - White Flag</title><content type='html'>Dido - White Flag&lt;p&gt;I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Or tell you that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; where's the sense in that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Or return to where we were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will go down with this ship&lt;br /&gt;And I won't put my hands up and surrender&lt;br /&gt;There will be no white flag above my door&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love and always will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I left too much mess and&lt;br /&gt;destruction to come back again&lt;br /&gt;And I caused nothing but trouble&lt;br /&gt;I understand if you can't talk to me again&lt;br /&gt;And if you live by the rules of "it's over"&lt;br /&gt;then I'm sure that makes sense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will go down with this ship&lt;br /&gt;And I won't put my hands up and surrender&lt;br /&gt;There will be no white flag above my door&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love and always will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we meet&lt;br /&gt;Which I'm sure we will&lt;br /&gt;All that was then&lt;br /&gt;Will be there still&lt;br /&gt;I'll let it pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And hold my tongue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And you will think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; That I've moved on....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will go down with this ship&lt;br /&gt;And I won't put my hands up and surrender&lt;br /&gt;There will be no white flag above my door&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love and always will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will go down with this ship&lt;br /&gt;And I won't put my hands up and surrender&lt;br /&gt;There will be no white flag above my door&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love and always will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will go down with this ship&lt;br /&gt;And I won't put my hands up and surrender&lt;br /&gt;There will be no white flag above my door&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love and always will be&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu sei que você pensa&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não devia te amar ainda&lt;br /&gt;Ou te dizer isso&lt;br /&gt;Mas mesmo se não dissesse, bem, eu ainda sentiria isso&lt;br /&gt;Onde está o sentido nisso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Eu prometo que não estou tentando dificultar sua vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Ou retornar para onde estávamos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eu irei naufragar com esse navio&lt;br /&gt;E não vou levantar minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;E render-me&lt;br /&gt;Não haverá bandeira branca&lt;br /&gt;Acima da minha porta&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;E sempre estarei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Eu sei que deixei muita bagunça&lt;br /&gt;E destruição para voltar de novo&lt;br /&gt;E eu não causei nada&lt;br /&gt;além de problemas&lt;br /&gt;Eu entendo se você não pode falar comigo novamente&lt;br /&gt;E se você vive pela regra do "Acabou"&lt;br /&gt;Então tenho certeza de que faz sentido&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eu irei naufragar com esse navio&lt;br /&gt;E não vou levantar minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;E render-me&lt;br /&gt;Não haverá bandeira branca acima de minha porta&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;E sempre estarei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; E quando nos encontramos&lt;br /&gt;Como tenho certeza que iremos&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que era antes&lt;br /&gt;Ainda estará lá&lt;br /&gt;Eu deixarei passar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E vou ficar de boca fechada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E você vai pensar que eu parti pra outra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Repito, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;where's the sense in that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2871803999925590625?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2871803999925590625/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2871803999925590625' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2871803999925590625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2871803999925590625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/04/dido-white-flag.html' title='Dido - White Flag'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6275936181832528062</id><published>2008-04-14T20:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T23:08:24.253-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Minha vida está tão boa</title><content type='html'>Que chega a ser quase preocupante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas me preocupar? Não no momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH NOES, EU TENHO 456 MIL TRABALHOS PRA FAZER, AAAAAAAAH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6275936181832528062?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6275936181832528062/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6275936181832528062' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6275936181832528062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6275936181832528062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/04/minah-vida-est-to-boa.html' title='Minha vida está tão boa'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-7216979935849875787</id><published>2008-04-06T17:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:14:54.835-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='propaganada'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='publicidade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tempos modernos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='consumismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sociedade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='atualidade'/><title type='text'>Consumismo e propaganda.</title><content type='html'>Do momento em que se acorda ao que se fecha os olhos para dormir, somos assolados por propagandas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compre isso, beba aquilo, vista isso.    Massificam nossos gostos, vontades e necessidades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que é recente e moderno recebe total destaque, enquanto quem preza o antigo é mal visto pela sociedade como a um conservador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da necessidade de estar sempre na moda, ter os lançamentos, e assim ser aceito, da oferta de tudo o que se possa imaginar, surge o consumismo. O consumo desenfreado, que leva fácil o dinheiro difícil de ser obtido, fruto de uma sociedade que se preocupa cada vez mais com &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;TER&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; e &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;PARECER&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, ao invés de &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;SER&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E com tanta oferta, precisa haver procura. E aí, surgem as propagandas. Os publicitários tem de se superar, construir propagandas e campanhas cada vez mais engenhosas e eficazes, capazes de convencer de que você não só deseja ardentemente, como &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;PRECISA&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; daquele produto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei o que é mais triste: pensarem que somos desesperados maleáveis a quem se pode convencer de tudo, a começar por comprar o que lhes empurram, ou sermos isso mesmo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-7216979935849875787?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/7216979935849875787/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=7216979935849875787' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7216979935849875787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/7216979935849875787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/consumismo-e-propaganda.html' title='Consumismo e propaganda.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8206536772026448364</id><published>2008-03-30T01:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:13:19.678-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mudanças'/><title type='text'>Layout novo.</title><content type='html'>O céu é azul, a vida é bela e os passarinhos cantam na janela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse novo espírito "Giovana felizinha e mais ou menos calma", vocês vão ter de agüentar esse layout novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é uma gracinha? ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posto de novo as listas e o award até Maio, juro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[primeiro sinal da loucura: falar sozinha &lt;s&gt;,ou com ou seu blog não lido por ninguém, o que dá no mesmo&lt;/s&gt; . "Aqui começa o delírio", como diz meu irmão.]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8206536772026448364?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8206536772026448364/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8206536772026448364' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8206536772026448364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8206536772026448364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/layout-novo.html' title='Layout novo.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-2706930669521618207</id><published>2008-03-29T23:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:58:28.451-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mudanças'/><title type='text'>It's the end of the world as we know it</title><content type='html'>And I feel fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[É o fim do mundo como nós o conhecemos&lt;br /&gt;E eu me sinto bem]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;O título e essa frase são uma música do R.E.M., bem legal, mas, principalmente, resume bem o que estou sentindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abri mão de algo que eu julgava ser mais importante que meu próprio ser, então, pode se dizer que o mundo como eu conhecia acabou. Meu antigo mundo está morto. Dei o golpe de misericórdia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;início&lt;/span&gt;, me senti péssima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o mundo e a vida que estou conhecendo tem me deixado imensamente feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Leve e muito, muito feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu lamento tanto ter de fazer alguém infeliz com essa decisão, mas, tinha de ser feito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chega dessa palhaçada toda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não me arrependo.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, mas não &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mesmo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-2706930669521618207?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/2706930669521618207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=2706930669521618207' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2706930669521618207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/2706930669521618207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-end-of-world-as-we-know-it.html' title='It&apos;s the end of the world as we know it'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6647386154333948045</id><published>2008-03-21T02:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:16:03.218-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mimimi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustração'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pessoas'/><title type='text'>Queria alguém pra conversar.</title><content type='html'>Obrigada por me deixar na mão, filhadaputa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blog em hiatus pois ficarei 1 mês sem internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt; Como se alguém se importasse. &lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamento.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6647386154333948045?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6647386154333948045/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6647386154333948045' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6647386154333948045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6647386154333948045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/queria-algum-pra-conversar.html' title='Queria alguém pra conversar.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-645688482881689120</id><published>2008-03-08T01:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:16:59.386-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><title type='text'>Trilha sonora</title><content type='html'>Roubei da Tchu. Isso é coisa de fotolog, mas como odeio meu fotolog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- Abra sua lista de reprodução (Winamp, Media Player ou derivados)&lt;br /&gt;2- Coloque em "Ordem Aleatória"&lt;br /&gt;3- Aperte "Play!"&lt;br /&gt;4- Pra cada pergunta, coloque a música que estiver tocando.&lt;br /&gt;5- Quando for pra outra pergunta, mude de música!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1} Créditos de Abertura:&lt;br /&gt;R.E.M. &amp;amp; Muppets - Furry Happy Monsters [ok &gt;XD]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2} Ao acordar:&lt;br /&gt;AC/DC - You Shook Me All Night Long [Noite, acordar. Hm...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3} Primeiro dia de aula:&lt;br /&gt;Smashing Pumpkins - The boy [uma música sobre paixão, meio alegre, pra falar de primeiro dia de aula? Tinha de ser marcha fúnebre!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4} Infância:&lt;br /&gt;Police - Message in a Bottle [uma mensagem numa garrafa. Só se fosse pra pedir pra me tirarem da ilha de solidão que ela foi.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5} Ao se apaixonar:&lt;br /&gt;Red Hot Chilli Peppers - Dani California [erm... Eu tenho umas 874658 músicas com letras românticas, e vem essa. Ok.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6} Música de Batalha:&lt;br /&gt;Smashing Pumpkins - Believe [é batalha ou é pra relaxar?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7} Fim de namoro:&lt;br /&gt;The Killers - Soft Surrender [Rendição Suave, refrão &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Eu não quero você morta/Mas eu quero que você morra/Sem um bom amigo/Num dia alegre/Eu sei que quero sobrevivência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mas não sei por quê"&lt;/span&gt;. É, até que faz sentido.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8} Formatura:&lt;br /&gt;Red Hot Chilli Peppers - Tell me Baby [hm.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9} Vida:&lt;br /&gt;Bôa - Little Miss Miss [yeaaaaaah ♥]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10} Faculdade:&lt;br /&gt;Cássia Eller - Por Enquanto [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hm.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11} Colegial:&lt;br /&gt;Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here [Realmente.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12} Depressão:&lt;br /&gt;Moby - Great Escape [É. É melancólica que dói.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13} Na estrada:&lt;br /&gt;Oasis - Wonderwall [eu sei - meu irmão é o maior fã&lt;s&gt;nático&lt;/s&gt; que existe - que Oasis é &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;muito&lt;/span&gt; mais do que Wonderwall, é uma ótima banda, mas, eu amo essa música, ok?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14} Flashback:&lt;br /&gt;Interpol - Slow Hands [É, pode ser. QUEEEM VAI NO SHOW DO INTERPOL?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15} Reatando namoro:&lt;br /&gt;Smashing Pumpkins - Ava Adore [&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We must never be apart ♪" &lt;/span&gt;Adoro essa música ♥]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16} Casamento:&lt;br /&gt;Era - Ameno [latimm, não sei a tradução]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17} Nascimento do filho:&lt;br /&gt;Era - Divano [o que "O Conselho" tem a ver com o nascimento de uma criança que eu espero nunca existir?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18} Batalha Final:&lt;br /&gt;Oasis - Don't Go Away [q]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19} Cena de morte:&lt;br /&gt;The Killers - Mr. Brightside [Tá né.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20} Música do Funeral:&lt;br /&gt;Verve - Bittersweet Symphony [ah, qualé. Ok, eu quero essa música no &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;meu&lt;/span&gt; funeral.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21} Créditos Finais:&lt;br /&gt;Goo Goo Dolls - Black Baloon [hmmm.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;É isso. Ficou meio nonsense mas melhor do que a anterior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-645688482881689120?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/645688482881689120/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=645688482881689120' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/645688482881689120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/645688482881689120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/trilha-sonora.html' title='Trilha sonora'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6855662486514901997</id><published>2008-03-03T23:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:18:18.673-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mimimi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revolta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lembranças'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surto'/><title type='text'>Bôa - Scoring</title><content type='html'>Bem, na falta de idéias para um post, mas na ânsia de atualizar este blog, vai uma letra de música. Eu gosto da melodia, e, principalmente, da letra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E assim aproveito para divulgar esta banda ótima que ninguém nunca ouviu falar: Bôa. Bôa =/= de BoA. BoA = cantora coreana de pop. Bôa = banda inglesa ótima ♥ Este site &lt;a href="http://br.geocities.com/boa_uk_br/"&gt;http://br.geocities.com/boa_uk_br/&lt;/a&gt; tem bastante música para escutar, nem precisa baixar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, agora, a letra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Para escutar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://br.share.geocities.com/cleudeoliveira/Boa-Scoring.mp3"&gt;http://br.share.geocities.com/cleudeoliveira/Boa-Scoring.mp3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bôa - Scoring &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[traduzida pelo Allan]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfie as linhas em uma ordem profunda&lt;br /&gt;Marque-as tão fundo apenas para asber que você a disse&lt;br /&gt;Fúria destrutiva, é mais fácil ser assim&lt;br /&gt;Pelo menos você nunca teve que comer as palavras que você diz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto prazer em sentir-me sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Eu resguardo paixão em fazer as coisas por mim só&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu nunca irei ser pego por sua humilhação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu nunca ficarei de joelhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfie as linhas em uma ordem profunda&lt;br /&gt;Marque-as tão fundo apenas para saber que você a disse&lt;br /&gt;Fúria destrutiva, é mais fácil ser assim&lt;br /&gt;Pelo menos você nunca teve que comer as palavras que você diz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto prazer em sentir-me sozinha&lt;br /&gt;Eu resguardo paixão em fazer as coisas por mim só&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[¹]Eu nunca irei ser pega por sua humilhação&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca ficarei de joelhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segure o peso do mundo assim como você disse à ela&lt;br /&gt;Mas ele parece mais pesado quando seus joelhos estão machucados&lt;br /&gt;Mostre as pétalas de uma flor morrendo&lt;br /&gt;Pelo menos você sabe que ela irá continuar em sua força&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho pena, daqueles que não podem ver claramente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Você tem prazer, em fazer isso dificil de ser visto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[²]&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tenha certeza de que ela está respirando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tenha certeza de que ela está sentindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenha certeza de que ela está te correspondendo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E então você poderá dizer a ela a pontuação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[²]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E então, você poderá machucá-la mais vezes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu nunca irei ser derrotada por sua humilhação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu nunca serei abalada por sua estupidez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Na verdade não é nunca; é &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nunca mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Porque não importa o que eu faça, parece que sempre minha pontuação será baixa.&lt;br /&gt;Porém, já chega de me agarrar a cada mísera palavra sua como se fosse uma tentativa de conversa, chega de aceitar as migalhas de seu amor como um afogado se lança, sôfrego, a corda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quase com certeza isso não é uma indireta para você, caro amigo leitor desse blog, mas, se a carapuça serviu&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, ainda assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6855662486514901997?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6855662486514901997/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6855662486514901997' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6855662486514901997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6855662486514901997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/03/ba-scoring.html' title='Bôa - Scoring'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1857802083737349648</id><published>2008-02-20T23:03:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:19:57.771-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oscar Wilde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frases'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amigos'/><title type='text'>Loucos e Santos [by Oscar Wilde]</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Escolho meus amigos não pela pele ou outro arquétipo qualquer, mas pela pupila.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;dl&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Tem que ter brilho questionador e tonalidade inquietante.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;A mim não interessam os bons de espírito nem os maus de hábitos.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Fico com aqueles que fazem de mim louco e santo.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Deles não quero resposta, quero meu avesso.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Que me tragam dúvidas e angústias e agüentem o que há de pior em mim.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Para isso, só sendo louco.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Quero os santos, para que não duvidem das diferenças e peçam perdão pelas injustiças.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Escolho meus amigos pela alma lavada e pela cara exposta.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Não quero só o ombro e o colo, quero também sua maior alegria.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Amigo que não ri junto, não sabe sofrer junto.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Meus amigos são todos assim: metade bobeira, metade seriedade.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Não quero risos previsíveis, nem choros piedosos.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Quero amigos sérios, daqueles que fazem da realidade sua fonte de aprendizagem, mas lutam para que a fantasia não desapareça.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Não quero amigos adultos nem chatos.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Quero-os metade infância e outra metade velhice!&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Crianças, para que não esqueçam o valor do vento no rosto; e velhos, para que nunca tenham pressa.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Tenho amigos para saber quem eu sou.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd&gt;Pois os vendo loucos e santos, bobos e sérios, crianças e velhos, nunca me esquecerei de que "normalidade" é uma ilusão imbecil e estéril.&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;♥ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;É &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exatamente&lt;/span&gt; isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1857802083737349648?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1857802083737349648/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1857802083737349648' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1857802083737349648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1857802083737349648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/02/loucos-e-santos-by-oscar-wilde.html' title='Loucos e Santos [by Oscar Wilde]'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6224802642909588366</id><published>2008-02-12T21:06:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T13:23:21.922-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amigos'/><title type='text'>Eu curto tudo que é bruw</title><content type='html'>Ou o título, caso prefiram, "Redescobrindo a infância".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre fui uma criança solitária, esquisita, excluída.&lt;br /&gt;Mas, este não é um post de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mais&lt;/span&gt; mimimi, não senhores, eu não havia prometido que pararia [ ou pelo menos reduziria ] isso? Eu costumo honrar minha palavra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade, este é um post para expressar minha alegria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alegria com o quê?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com... sei lá. Ultimamente eu &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tenho&lt;/span&gt; estado bem alegre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, devo esta alegria a vários fatores, e a algumas pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;Ao Allan [ duh ], Jad, Thaísa, Babi e...&lt;br /&gt;Ao pessoal aqui da quadra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E os dois títulos desse post [ Eu curto tudo que é bruw/ Redescobrindo a infância ] tem a ver com eles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque, céus.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não pensava que me sentiria tão... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bem&lt;/span&gt; na companhia de "crianças".&lt;br /&gt;A experiência no prédio do meu outro irmão foi... decepcionante.&lt;br /&gt;Igualmente decepcionante foram meus anos na escola [ que ainda existem, por sinal ], onde sempre me sinto um pouco deslocada e solitária.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aqui...&lt;br /&gt;Eu me divirto &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tanto&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tanto&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;taaanto&lt;/span&gt;, sabe?&lt;br /&gt;Rio, chuto, espanco, jogo Guitar Hero, Rua da Mãe do Disco, vou pro parquinho, xingo, converso, aaaiai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada David-piranha, Boi, Mariana, Mateus, Bruno, Rubinho [ poor kid, te bati forte demais né? ], Luiz,  Luccas, Pereira-baranga-que-joga-no-lixo-meu-estilete-anti-pedófilos, Lucas, Hugo, Eduardo, e, ahn, esqueci alguém?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamento se esqueci.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque com vocês eu me divirto oceanos ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6224802642909588366?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6224802642909588366/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6224802642909588366' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6224802642909588366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6224802642909588366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/02/eu-curto-tudo-que-bruw.html' title='Eu curto tudo que é bruw'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1994767223398613371</id><published>2008-02-11T22:19:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T19:06:08.879-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre inteligência, caráter e sensibilidade.</title><content type='html'>O título promete, rá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post dedicado à Thaísa, leitora fiel, que faz até propaganda minha &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[ e pra retribuir, o blog dela é &lt;a href="http://thathalokinha.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://thathalokinha.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;g&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;norem o nome meio piriguético, ela é inteligeníssima e talz, pena que é uma &lt;s&gt;piranha&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;i&gt;pervertida ]&lt;/i&gt;, amiga excelente e de quem eu sinto muita saudade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existem vários critérios para avaliar o valor de uma pessoa. E eles são muito subjetivos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para alguns, é a aparência, a popularidade, a capacidade de entreter, distrair, divertir. Para outros, a doçura, meiguice, personalidade pacífica [ muitas vezes quase passiva ], et cetera. E lógico, neste maldito mundo capitalista, para muitos o valor de uma pessoa é diretamente proporcional ao dinheiro que ela tem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E para outros, é a inteligência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é engraçado como quem prioriza a inteligência em alguém, pensa que é menos superficial, fútil ou  mais maduro e elevado do que quem dá preferência ao que citei lá em cima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A inteligência é uma dádiva divina. Faz a pessoa entender rapidamente, desenvolver e criar, e, se fizer bom uso dela, ser alguém bem-sucedido e ninguém fazê-la de trouxa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, pára por aí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque alguém inteligente não é, necessariamente, bom. E assim sendo, de que adianta poder discutir livros, artes ou o sentido da vida com alguém, se essa pessoa pode ser um completo imbecil? E ter bom coração, uma alma e essência excelentes, ser compassivo, afetuoso e com um caráter firme, isso não conta?  E uma pessoa burra &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[ não sou politicamente correta pra chamar de "desprovido de muito intelecto" ou qualquer coisa do gênero, francamente ]&lt;/span&gt; não é necessariamente insensível. Pode não entender seus problemas, mas pode entender parte dos seus sentimentos, e, pode se importar mais com eles do que muitos mini-Einsteins por aí. Gente burra ama e sente.  E pode ter sensibilidade o suficiente para saber ou sentir que está sendo menosprezada ou humilhada, e/ou ter ciência de que é burra, e aípode pensar que as ofensas são "justas". E, se não sentir ou souber que está sendo humilhada, pior, então é pura e simples crueldade, covardia earrogância da parte de quem ofendê-la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para mim, é o que mais conta. Bom coração, caráter [ e para mim tem, sim, diferença entre ambos sim ] e só aí inteligência.  Mas principalmente, priorizo o bom coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso deve explicar porque gosto tanto de algumas pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O resto, meus caros, é resto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois afinal, e esse trecho não se refere a amor romântico, na minha humilde &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[ cof cof gasp, humilde é algo que eu realmente &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;não&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; sou, mas sou bastante insegura quanto as minhas interpretações ]&lt;/span&gt; concepção,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Só o amor permanece."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1994767223398613371?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1994767223398613371/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1994767223398613371' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1994767223398613371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1994767223398613371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/02/sobre-inteligncia-carter-e.html' title='Sobre inteligência, caráter e sensibilidade.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-548267461853605518</id><published>2008-02-07T23:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T23:42:52.905-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Che-ga.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Ok, galerë, para a felicidade de vocês, acho que minhas depressões e surtos pararam.&lt;br /&gt;It's over. Ou, pelo menos, eu tentarei parar de postá-los aqui.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, eu imagino geral comemorando essa decisão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;A questão é:&lt;br /&gt;E agora, o que eu posto aqui?&lt;br /&gt;Quero dizer, já fiz diversos artigos, por assim dizer, opiniões sobre coisas mais a ver com o mundo e menos a ver comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Também tive a maldita fase de surtar, viadagem, mimimi, depressões.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sei que exagerei, estava hipersensível e alternava desespero com apatia freqüentemente, mas, ainda assim. Pretendo parar de tornar tão públicos esses maus momentos, internet é acessível demais. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mas não vou deletar esses posts.&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro porque eu desfalcaria meu blog, que perderia uns 10 posts, rerere.&lt;br /&gt;Outra porque sou da opinião de que nada deve ser esquecido, os maus momentos são lembranças, e lembranças e o que elas trouxeram são parte da sua pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;E, terceiro lugar, assim posso relê-los daqui a alguns anos, e rir da minha cara, por ter sido tão boba. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Então, é isso, galerë, estou novamente aberta a sugestões de temas para novos posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um beijo e um queijo q. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-548267461853605518?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/548267461853605518/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=548267461853605518' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/548267461853605518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/548267461853605518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/02/che-ga.html' title='Che-ga.'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-5316387151367893728</id><published>2008-01-26T12:55:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T12:58:30.268-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viadagem'/><title type='text'>Layout novo, galerë</title><content type='html'>Gostaram?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A questão é que &lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, a maravilhosa, onipotente e modesta dona desse blog, gostei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E vocês vão ter de me engolir, digo, engolir o layout novo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-5316387151367893728?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/5316387151367893728/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=5316387151367893728' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5316387151367893728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/5316387151367893728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/layout-novo-galer.html' title='Layout novo, galerë'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1602837967430227993</id><published>2008-01-23T19:58:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T20:27:44.346-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mimimi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depressão'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viadagem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>The Killers - My List</title><content type='html'>Eu gosto dessa música, apesar de ela ser meio triste e talz.&lt;br /&gt;E acho que ela fala muito por mim.&lt;br /&gt;Seqüência usual,vou exibir o vídeo, e postar a letra e tradução.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UiRyRzZ5WlQ&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UiRyRzZ5WlQ&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Killers - My List&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Let me wrap myself around you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Let you show me how I see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; And when you come back in from nowhere, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do you ever think of me? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; When your heart is not able, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; let me show you how much I care &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I need those eyes to tide me over &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I’ll take your picture when I go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Gives me strength and gives me patience, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I’ll never let you know&lt;br /&gt;I got nothing on you baby,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;But I always said I’d try &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Let me show you how much I care. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; But sometimes it gets hard and don’t she know – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Don’t give the ghost up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just clench your fist.&lt;br /&gt;You should have known by now you were on my list.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give the ghost up,&lt;br /&gt;just clench your fist&lt;br /&gt;You should have known by now you were on my list&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give the ghost up,&lt;br /&gt;just clench your fist.&lt;br /&gt;You should have known by now you were wrong . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; When your heart is not able &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; and your prayers, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; they’re not fables. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Let me show you, let me show you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; let me show you how much I care&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tradução - The Killers - My List&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me te abraçar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me mostrar como eu vejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E quando você volta de lugar nenhum,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Você alguma vez pensa em mim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Quando seu coração não é capaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me mostrar o quanto me importo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Eu preciso desses olhos para me apoiar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Eu tirarei sua foto quando partir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Me dá forças e me dá paciência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas eu nunca te deixarei saber&lt;br /&gt;Eu não consegui nada com você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Mas eu sempre disse que tentaria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me mostrar o quanto me importo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Mas as vezes isso fica difícil e ela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; não sabe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Não desista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas feche seu punho&lt;br /&gt;Você já deveria saber que estava na minha lista&lt;br /&gt;Não desista&lt;br /&gt;Apenas feche seu punho&lt;br /&gt;Você já deveria saber que estava na minha lista&lt;br /&gt;Não desista&lt;br /&gt;Apenas feche seu punho&lt;br /&gt;Você já deveria saber que estava na minha lista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Quando seu coração não é capaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; E suas preces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Não são fábulas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me te mostrar, deixe-me te mostrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Deixe-me te mostrar o quanto me importo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tirando o trecho meio wth, que fala sobre "Minha Lista", LISTA DO QUÊ?, eu gosto dessa música quase por completa. Imagino que os trechos em negrito evidenciem isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, também como de costume, trechos destacados = mais significativos para &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mim&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[agora tenho usado tags/marcadores nas postagens, notaram? Mas, a tag "amor" é para amor romântico, que isso fique claro. E as tags de mimimi, viadagem, depressão e bad times, lá embaixo, se referem a como eu me sinto &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no momento&lt;/span&gt;, e não necessariamente algo a ver com a música/o que a letra dela representa pra mim.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;So, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;let me show you, how much I care&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;♪&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1602837967430227993?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1602837967430227993/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1602837967430227993' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1602837967430227993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1602837967430227993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/killers-my-list.html' title='The Killers - My List'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-1787804382769490716</id><published>2008-01-23T00:32:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T01:04:44.657-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mimimi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viadagem'/><title type='text'>Composição minha</title><content type='html'>Obs.: Não se preocupem, amores, isso foi escrito há uma semana e tal, só estou postando porque gostei, e não porque seja algo que eu esteja sentindo no presente momento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, ei-la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é porque algo tornou-se&lt;br /&gt;Passado&lt;br /&gt;Que perdeu o poder de ferir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é porque eu disse que perdoei&lt;br /&gt;Que esqueci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não é porque&lt;br /&gt;Oculto sob uma camada de&lt;br /&gt;Falsa serenidade&lt;br /&gt;Sob uma alegria tão&lt;br /&gt;Superficial&lt;br /&gt;Quanto artificial&lt;br /&gt;Que estou bem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é porque passou&lt;br /&gt;Que foi superado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continua inalterado&lt;br /&gt;Apesar das vãs palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beigos, e NÃO SE PREOCUPEM, EU TÔ OK!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-1787804382769490716?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/1787804382769490716/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=1787804382769490716' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1787804382769490716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/1787804382769490716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/composio-minha.html' title='Composição minha'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-392365319510771275</id><published>2008-01-21T00:25:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T01:39:57.133-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Melhores amigos</title><content type='html'>Traçando um perfil dos meus melhores amigos - este é o tema desse post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque, eles são tão maravilhosos, e me escutam, e me agüentam e me divertem, e, aaaah, o &lt;em&gt;mínimo&lt;/em&gt; que posso fazer é divulgar isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em ordem alfabética, &lt;s&gt;para não reclamarem e encherem meu saco por não serem os primeiros&lt;/s&gt; porque sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[p.s.: Existem outras pessoas maravilhosas que me ajudaram/estão começando/voltando a ajudar que não entraram na lista por serem passado ou ser cedo demais para colocá-las nessa lista. São elas: Ana, Garol, Meh, Anne, Digo, Kyra]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chega de blablablá e vamos &lt;s&gt;a&lt;/s&gt; &lt;s&gt;à&lt;/s&gt; a ou á? lista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Allan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Quando descobri, que é sempre só você, que me entende do início ao fim...&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Ah, poxa. Não desmerecendo todos os meus amigos &lt;strong&gt;fantásticos&lt;/strong&gt;, mas ele é &lt;em&gt;hors concours&lt;/em&gt;. Brigas demais não invalidaram o quanto você me ajudou, e o quanto eu te amo, por mais terrível amiga e &lt;s&gt;namorada&lt;/s&gt; algo mais que eu devo ter sido.&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada por &lt;em&gt;tudo, tudo&lt;/em&gt;, e desculpa por &lt;s&gt;ser tão chata, insegura, boba, insuportável, te encher a paciência até dizer chega, não te merecer, ferrar seu humor, chorar no seu ombro, deprimir com freqüência e surtar direto&lt;/s&gt; te dar dor de cabeça, tá? Enfim, por essas coisas todas.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You never know, dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away&lt;/em&gt;." ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temos um irmão, temos um irmão! Tantas internas ["Éramos jovens, lindas, inocentes, ríamos com despreocupação infantil e- PÉRA AÍ, ISSO FOI ANO PASSADO U_U"; "Rôôô, biscoito"; "E AINDA ME DEIXA SEM CAFÉ-DA-MANHÃ!"; "Oceanos no vestido"; "CANETA BIC, CANETA BIC" aaaah, bons tempos.], tantos momentos, cantar The Cardigans, Shoes e Gimme More Shoes de forma desafinada de madrugada ["It's the good times that we share, and the bad times that we'll have, it's the good times and the bad times that we had", cantar isso com você, tendo o significado que tem para nós, nem Master Card compra], enfim. Amizade eterna, né? ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ley&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaah Ley, e pensar que a gente se conheceu com discussões abobadas por coisas &lt;s&gt;idiotas&lt;/s&gt; supérfluas, e você me chamando de "pirralha folgada", e você iria se tornar um amigo tão querido. Mandar você dormir/estudar/se cuidar/puramente mandar em você é tããão legal :3. Encher sua paciência também. Rir com vídeos do Monty Python, idem. Mas principalmente, obrigada por ter me escutado. Por ter me ajudado tanto, mesmo quando não tinha obrigação alguma. Você não sabe o alívio que foi aquele dia, poder falar aquilo tudo. Obrigada, de coração ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luh&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaah, é uma boba que fica me chamando de Hana Montana e cortando todo o clima de Brilho Eterno de Uma Mente Sem Lembranças com comentários sobre "Não tô entendendo!". Bobabobaboba, que eu amo muitão. Que, apesar de ser uma obcecada tagarela que não me escuta, e de parecer lerda, é inteligentíssima [filosofar com você sobre escola e palavras foi tão legal!] e uma ótima pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mé&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meeeeu Bode ♥. Uma coisinha fofa e apertável, que eu amo. Que me diverte de montão, é meiga, doce, fofa, afetuosa, linda &lt;em&gt;[diga o que quiser, é a &lt;strong&gt;minha&lt;/strong&gt; opinião&lt;/em&gt;], aaah, tudo. Queria fazer isso mais extenso, já que o das pessoas acima também foi, mas, nem sei o que dizer, poxa. Você é tão gracinha, e já fez tanto por mim, mais do que posso expressar com &lt;s&gt;blablablá inútil, linhas demais e encheção de lingüiça&lt;/s&gt; palavras. Te amo, Méééé ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E, por onde começar? Também nos conhecemos de forma &lt;s&gt;bizarra e talvez até ridícula&lt;/s&gt; inusitada, e também nos tornamos amigos excelentes. Você me ajuda tanto, e é tão legal e tudo-tudo, sempre consegue me deixar melhor, ou no mínimo mais calma. Acho que você é uma das únicas pessoas &lt;s&gt;que eu nunca quis assassinar&lt;/s&gt; com quem eu nunca fui grossa, fria ou de uma forma geral desagradável. Porque? Porque eu não conseguiria maltratar o meeeu Anatídeo, que rebola ao som de Giovana cantando "Piri-pi-piri-pi-piri-piri-piri-guete", e fica falando "como faz?" e cantadas toscas em eventos de anime aleatórios. E que fala que eu sou "a garota de treze anos mais inteligente do mundo". Obrigada pela paciência e por ser um amigo fabuloso, e desculpa se alguma vez eu fui má com você. ♥&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stefi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2007/04/saudades-di-muito.html"&gt;http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2007/04/saudades-di-muito.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Link para o post dedicado à pessoa que marcou minha infância e minha vida. Porque com ou sem medo do Lobo Mau, graus de óculos e invasão dos Patos, sem falar nos berros de "Ossoto!" e tudo isso, seremos amigas para sempre, tá? ♥&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thaísa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já dizia Smashing Pumpkins, &lt;em&gt;you'll always be my whore&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;s&gt;Betch&lt;/s&gt; Best friend. Bom, uma das, ao menos. Pessoinha com uma paciência surpreendentemente grande, que me animava, abraçava, consolava e aconselhava, bem, de uma forma geral me ajudava &lt;em&gt;todo dia &lt;/em&gt;[éramos colegas de sala]. Para alguém que me conhece razoavelmente bem, já sabe que é algo digno de canonização. Mas a Igreja Católica &lt;strong&gt;NUNCA&lt;/strong&gt; te tornaria santa Thaísa, desculpa, Jesus odeia garotinhas &lt;s&gt;que ficam falando tanta perversão a aula toda, sua safada&lt;/s&gt; fanáticas por Guilherme Zaiden.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cara, você não faz idéia do quanto eu te adoro, tá? ♥&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Se você não está nessa lista, nem nas pessoas que citei láá no início do post, bem, &lt;s&gt;se ferrou, faça por merecer, otário. Devo ter tido meus motivos, se você fosse importante de verdade não me esqueceria de você&lt;/s&gt; lamento profunda e sinceramente.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Era isso e até outro dia galerë!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;[p.s.: MALDITA PULAÇÃO DE LINHAS BUGADA DO BLOGSPOT. ARGH.]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-392365319510771275?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/392365319510771275/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=392365319510771275' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/392365319510771275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/392365319510771275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/melhores-amigos.html' title='Melhores amigos'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-4684236704540019897</id><published>2008-01-19T23:28:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T23:38:49.417-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pink Floyd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><title type='text'>Wish you were here - Pink Floyd</title><content type='html'>So, so you think you can tell&lt;br /&gt;Heaven from Hell&lt;br /&gt;Blue skies from pain&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell a green field&lt;br /&gt;From a cold steel rail?&lt;br /&gt;A smile from a veil?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did they get you to trade&lt;br /&gt;Your heroes for ghosts?&lt;br /&gt;Hot ashes for trees?&lt;br /&gt;And hot air for a cool breeze?&lt;br /&gt;Cold comfort for change?&lt;br /&gt;And did you exchange&lt;br /&gt;A walk on part in the war&lt;br /&gt;For a lead role in a cage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish&lt;br /&gt;How I wish you were here&lt;br /&gt;We're just two lost souls&lt;br /&gt;Swimming in a fish bowl&lt;br /&gt;Year after year&lt;br /&gt;Running over the same old ground&lt;br /&gt;What have we found?&lt;br /&gt;The same old fears&lt;br /&gt;Wish you were here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tradução, be-atches:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vagalume.uol.com.br/pink-floyd/wish-you-were-here-(traducao).html"&gt;http://vagalume.uol.com.br/pink-floyd/wish-you-were-here-(traducao).html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A letra é perfeita, sem tirar nem pôr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-4684236704540019897?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/4684236704540019897/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=4684236704540019897' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4684236704540019897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/4684236704540019897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/wish-you-were-here-pink-floyd.html' title='Wish you were here - Pink Floyd'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-8948667508167437503</id><published>2008-01-19T20:26:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T22:18:23.915-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mimimi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coldplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tradução'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tristeza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depressão'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viadagem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Coldplay - The Scientist</title><content type='html'>Letra, vídeo e tradução, pois é &lt;em&gt;exatamente&lt;/em&gt; como eu me sinto. [trechos em &lt;strong&gt;negrito&lt;/strong&gt; e &lt;u&gt;sublinhado&lt;/u&gt; para indicar coisas que são especialmente pertinentes no meu caso. ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Vídeo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V3Kd7IGPyeg&amp;amp;rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Coldplay - The Scientist coldplay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry&lt;br /&gt;You don't know how lovely you are&lt;br /&gt;I had to find you, tell you I need you&lt;br /&gt;And tell you I set you apart&lt;br /&gt;Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions&lt;br /&gt;Oh let's go back to the start&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running in circles, coming up tails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Heads on a silence apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame for us to part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be this hard&lt;br /&gt;Oh take me back to the start&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just guessing at numbers and figures&lt;br /&gt;Pulling the puzzles apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Questions of science, science and progress&lt;br /&gt;Don't speak as loud as my heart.&lt;br /&gt;So tell me you love me, come back and haunt me,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, when I rush to the start&lt;br /&gt;Running in circles, chasing in tails&lt;br /&gt;coming back as we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nobody said it was easy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a shame for us to part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nobody said it was easy.&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it would be so hard&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going back to the start.&lt;br /&gt;Ooooohhhhhhh [x4]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tradução&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Vim pra lhe encontrar,&lt;br /&gt;Dizer que sinto muito,&lt;br /&gt;Você não sabe o quão amável você é&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho que lhe achar,&lt;br /&gt;Dizer que preciso de você,&lt;br /&gt;Dizer que a abandonei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conte-me seus segredos&lt;br /&gt;Pergunte-me suas questões&lt;br /&gt;Oh, vamos voltar pro começo&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Correndo em círculos,&lt;br /&gt;Surgindo as caudas,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Cabeças num separado silêncio&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ninguém disse que era fácil,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tão vergonhoso pra nós nos separarmos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ninguém disse que era fácil,&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém jamais disse que seria tão difícil assim&lt;br /&gt;Oh, me leve de volta pro começo...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu só estava pensando&lt;br /&gt;Em números e figuras,&lt;br /&gt;Rejeitando seus quebra-cabeças&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Questões de ciência,&lt;br /&gt;Ciência e progresso&lt;br /&gt;Não falam tão alto quanto meu coração&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Diga-me que me ama,&lt;br /&gt;Volte e me assombre&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, quando eu corro pro começo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Correndo em círculos,&lt;br /&gt;Perseguindo nossas caudas&lt;br /&gt;Voltando a ser como éramos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ninguém disse que era fácil, &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tão vergonhoso pra nós nos separarmos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ninguém disse que era fácil,&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém jamais disse que seria tão difícil assim &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu estou indo de volta para o começo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;É, meus amores, a tendência é eu iniciar com essa uma maratona de músicas-pseudo-românticas-e-depressivas-destacando-os-trechos-que-mais-sinto-do-fundo-da-alma. Se você é alguém próximo e amigo meu, sabe porque. Se não, deduza, otário.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-8948667508167437503?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/8948667508167437503/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=8948667508167437503' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8948667508167437503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/8948667508167437503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/coldplay-scientist.html' title='Coldplay - The Scientist'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-6502629843687923870</id><published>2008-01-09T22:01:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T21:19:12.257-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Escola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psicólogos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='psicologia'/><title type='text'>Notícia comentada *futura repórter [NÃO.]*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://noticias.terra.com.br/mundo/interna/0,,OI2219359-EI8141,00.html"&gt;Eua: Estudante esfaqueia três colegas em escola&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[click sobre isso e leia a reportagem]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suposição MINHA:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O esfaqueador ou:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-É vítima de &lt;a href="http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2007/05/tpico-de-utilidade-pblica-n-1-bullying.html"&gt;bullying&lt;/a&gt; [click sobre "bullying e leia meu post amador sobre o tema];&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Vem de um lar desfeito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só que não sou uma dessas psicólogas que dizem, enquanto ajeitam os óculos [eu ajeito o óculos, como qualquer pessoa que use, oras, mas enfim, é uma situação hipotética]:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bem, é claro que o fato de sofrer &lt;a href="http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2007/05/tpico-de-utilidade-pblica-n-1-bullying.html"&gt;bullying&lt;/a&gt;/vir de um lar desfeito teve muita influência negativa sobre esta criança. Os pais são uma enorme influência sobre a criança, mas o meio externo também e et cetera e blablablá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momento crítica ferina:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo pura babaquice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, não estou subestimando a influência dos pais e das companhias para o desenvolvimento de uma pessoa. Tampouco tenho algo contra psicólogos - ok, tenho, amigos são mais úteis e de graça. PARA MIM, PARA MIM, MEU CASO, OPINIÃO PESSOAL HEM -. Para muita gente são realmente úteis - até imprescindíveis &lt;em&gt;[amiguinhos preguiçosos e com vocabulário pobre: segundo consta no dicionário, imprescindível é "Que não pode faltar; INDISPENSÁVEL"]&lt;/em&gt;. Não estou menosprezando o trabalho deles e tal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até porque já quis ser psicóloga. Eu levo jeito, será?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[imaginando]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cliente: Sabe como é, eu tenho um pequeno problema com a bebida e...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giovana: VAI SE FERRAR, PÁRA COM ESSA DROGA, ALÉM DE ESTRAGAR A SUA VIDA, O QUE É UM DIREITO SEU, ESTRAGA A DE TODOS OS PRÓXIMOS A VOCÊ! [tapa na cara]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[eu faço semelhante com meus amigos, tenho um jeito muito enérgico de dar conselhos, rere.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltando à [a? Tenho dificuldade com a maldita crase] seriedade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas justamente, o que quero dizer é:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não importam suas origens. Não importa o quão trágica seja sua vida em casa, ou a forma terrível como as pessoas te tratam, não use isso como justificativa para atos vis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas maravilhosas muitas vezes sofreram imensamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E às vezes quem teve de tudo vira um babaca [vide jovens imbecis que atearam fogo no índio, espancaram empregada, etc.].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim: Não importam suas origens. Importa a forma como você lida com elas - esse é o diferencial entre uma pessoa com infância infeliz que se torna alguém bom e bem sucedido [por exemplo Oprah Winfrey] ou acaba como um assassino sociopata [vide Charles Manson].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-6502629843687923870?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/6502629843687923870/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=6502629843687923870' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6502629843687923870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/6502629843687923870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/notcia-comentada-futura-reprter-no.html' title='Notícia comentada *futura repórter [NÃO.]*'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8239313691657347523.post-474081308435108828</id><published>2008-01-06T19:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T21:19:55.034-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coldplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Muppets'/><title type='text'>Muppets cantando Yellow, do Coldplay</title><content type='html'>Só porque eu &lt;strong&gt;amo&lt;/strong&gt; o baterista HIPER animado no início do vídeo &lt;strong&gt;♥&lt;/strong&gt; Muppets are L-O-V-E &lt;strong&gt;♥&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GbItoJlfSyI&amp;amp;rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8239313691657347523-474081308435108828?l=girsl-liz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/feeds/474081308435108828/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8239313691657347523&amp;postID=474081308435108828' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/474081308435108828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8239313691657347523/posts/default/474081308435108828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://girsl-liz.blogspot.com/2008/01/muppets-cantando-yellow-do-colplay.html' title='Muppets cantando Yellow, do Coldplay'/><author><name>Giovana.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12381136919369270686</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R3w-onFCPXA/Tyd8wgr9VcI/AAAAAAAAALk/xkLxyt1Qh-8/s220/opa2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
