<?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-6870632460857528814</id><updated>2012-02-17T12:25:33.543-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay For Tea</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>268</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3486961561676247415</id><published>2012-02-15T23:50:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T23:55:51.050-02:00</updated><title type='text'>No escuro.</title><content type='html'>Você,&lt;br /&gt;que acha graça quando eu choro&lt;br /&gt;Uma fala&lt;br /&gt;um final&lt;br /&gt;que desatina o sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu&lt;br /&gt;traumatizada&lt;br /&gt;tola&lt;br /&gt;apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- que(m) sou -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;achando lágrima ao ver seu riso nascer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3486961561676247415?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3486961561676247415/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3486961561676247415&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3486961561676247415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3486961561676247415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-escuro.html' title='No escuro.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1352456926101340196</id><published>2012-02-08T23:20:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T23:22:00.826-02:00</updated><title type='text'>1, 2, 3, 2.</title><content type='html'>Milhares de histórias na minha cabeça, e nenhuma eu consigo contar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São minhas demais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1352456926101340196?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1352456926101340196/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1352456926101340196&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1352456926101340196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1352456926101340196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2012/02/1-2-3-2.html' title='1, 2, 3, 2.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3131839786707031468</id><published>2012-01-27T01:03:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T01:06:56.797-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How long until you change your relationship status on Facebook?&lt;br /&gt;How long until you don't talk to me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;How long until you find someone better?&lt;br /&gt;How long until you can't even remember before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long until it's been months you've been in my bed?&lt;br /&gt;How long until you get back to your old ways?&lt;br /&gt;How long until there's no more tears left to be shed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long until I stop hurting and wishing I was brave enough to kill myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3131839786707031468?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3131839786707031468/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3131839786707031468&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3131839786707031468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3131839786707031468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-long-until-you-change-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-868490461453662088</id><published>2012-01-20T18:25:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T18:38:21.762-02:00</updated><title type='text'>check.</title><content type='html'>but you play me like you play chess;&lt;br /&gt;a genius against a 5 year old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;piece by piece you break me&lt;br /&gt;piece by piece you end me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-868490461453662088?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/868490461453662088/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=868490461453662088&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/868490461453662088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/868490461453662088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2012/01/check.html' title='check.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5911076610038572719</id><published>2012-01-20T18:21:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T18:39:20.922-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Você vai ficar bem.</title><content type='html'>Você mesmo disse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu que não vou.&lt;br /&gt;Foi seu nome que eu chamei no hospital quando achei que ia morrer. Sou eu que não consigo imaginar uma vida sem você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo eu já sabia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5911076610038572719?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5911076610038572719/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5911076610038572719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5911076610038572719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5911076610038572719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2012/01/voce-vai-ficar-bem.html' title='Você vai ficar bem.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5056045242441502546</id><published>2011-12-15T19:28:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T19:50:49.655-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullet.</title><content type='html'>She'd just been shot but she didn't bother to call 911.&lt;br /&gt;What she pulled her mobile out of her pocket for was dialing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did it take so long for him to pick up?&lt;br /&gt;A minute felt like a second but also an entire year.&lt;br /&gt;She wished for her mind to be taken away from there.&lt;br /&gt;She wished for something to be flashing through her eyes while she waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But nothing did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello? Hello?! I love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears ran down her face while she broke down, her body on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you so much. I am sorry for all the wrong things I ever did.&lt;br /&gt;I want you to be happy&lt;br /&gt;and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her blood was all over the floor, being swayed to the street by the rain.&lt;br /&gt;The sky cried red.&lt;br /&gt;Thunder and wind played dare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't get it.&lt;br /&gt;How could he?&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, I can't talk right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only voice she could hear now was her cell phone's.&lt;br /&gt;Telling her the call was over.&lt;br /&gt;Telling her that it was all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Game over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5056045242441502546?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5056045242441502546/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5056045242441502546&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5056045242441502546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5056045242441502546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/12/bullet.html' title='Bullet.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5773024362018948357</id><published>2011-11-12T13:43:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T13:53:56.834-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu.</title><content type='html'>"Eu gosto de gente que se importa. Gente que sorri. Gente que sabe pedir desculpas. Que abraça nem que seja só com o olhar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(originalmente no meu &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/gabisaur/status/11670421563"&gt;twitter&lt;/a&gt;.)&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/6870632460857528814-5773024362018948357?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5773024362018948357/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5773024362018948357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5773024362018948357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5773024362018948357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/11/meu.html' title='Meu.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8301770655528777121</id><published>2011-08-20T20:27:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T20:52:47.668-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Chuva.</title><content type='html'>O dia é pouco quente,&lt;br /&gt;o Sol tá decrescente,&lt;br /&gt;o sábado passa...&lt;br /&gt;e meu amor nunca se rende.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8301770655528777121?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8301770655528777121/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8301770655528777121&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8301770655528777121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8301770655528777121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/08/chuva.html' title='Chuva.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8735573572406384465</id><published>2011-07-20T23:32:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T23:37:56.510-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Jazz by moonlit alley.</title><content type='html'>There's a monster in your bed and you can't figure out whether it's telling you to kill yourself or demanding all your money. You try to run and by the end of it you realise you don't care about losing anything as long as it's not your life - and that's what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; is, your life. And you cry because he might be wanting to leave soon and if he does the whole world will be just monsters on dark corners. And you will have to face them alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8735573572406384465?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8735573572406384465/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8735573572406384465&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8735573572406384465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8735573572406384465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/07/6.html' title='Jazz by moonlit alley.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2876629592003267800</id><published>2011-07-19T21:15:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T21:15:58.799-03:00</updated><title type='text'>saudade.</title><content type='html'>amar ou perder&lt;br /&gt;incertezas demais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fica difícil é de saber&lt;br /&gt;onde estão os sinais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dos teus beijos ainda lembro&lt;br /&gt;no fim de uma tarde de novembro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sem contra-tempos&lt;br /&gt;sem palavras ao vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fica aqui uma promessa:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pra sempre te amo&lt;br /&gt;e cresce a todo momento&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2876629592003267800?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2876629592003267800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2876629592003267800&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2876629592003267800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2876629592003267800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/07/saudade.html' title='saudade.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5602501328129852706</id><published>2011-06-22T19:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T19:06:07.164-03:00</updated><title type='text'>-</title><content type='html'>beijos urbanos&lt;br /&gt;vidas em neon&lt;br /&gt;sem hora marcada&lt;br /&gt;só calor humano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"alugamos."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5602501328129852706?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5602501328129852706/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5602501328129852706&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5602501328129852706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5602501328129852706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title='-'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6441000483224932438</id><published>2011-06-18T14:33:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T00:00:10.447-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hazy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dearest Dr. J. H. W.,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have to watch TV alone now and it feels wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I find comfort in thinking that you might be watching too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I find comfort in thinking that you're better without me guessing it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This little house feels empty,&lt;br /&gt;and i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;t makes me uneasy not knowing where you are now, and how.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I hope you know it's hard. But mostly, I hope you know that I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of you every day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And not a single day goes by that I don't regret it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sorry I hurt you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sorry we don't get to hug anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please know a part of my heart will be forever filled with love for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;S. H.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6441000483224932438?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6441000483224932438/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6441000483224932438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6441000483224932438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6441000483224932438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/hazy.html' title='Hazy.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3700631003300546100</id><published>2011-06-11T02:25:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T17:18:25.947-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pasta II.</title><content type='html'>Or maybe you'll just shut the door behind you and leave. Say you've had enough of my mistakes and my troubled mind and go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But don't worry, I would never ask you to give back your key.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3700631003300546100?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3700631003300546100/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3700631003300546100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3700631003300546100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3700631003300546100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/pasta-ii.html' title='Pasta II.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3467916294392257544</id><published>2011-06-09T18:11:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T18:47:37.234-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pasta.</title><content type='html'>I can see myself opening up my door for you, wearing lingerie and a silk robe, huge smile on my face. And I'd have dinner ready but we'd end up eating it cold because we spent too much time getting tangled between the sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could bring all your clothes and say you will stay for the week but end up staying your whole life if you wanted to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3467916294392257544?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3467916294392257544/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3467916294392257544&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3467916294392257544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3467916294392257544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/pasta.html' title='Pasta.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3272143694503351452</id><published>2011-06-06T21:55:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T22:00:30.691-03:00</updated><title type='text'>De vidro.</title><content type='html'>Mas não esquece que eu te amo,&lt;br /&gt;se um dia você acordar se sentindo assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não esquece que eu te amo, tá?&lt;br /&gt;mesmo se 'tiver cansado dos meus problemas e de mim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3272143694503351452?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3272143694503351452/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3272143694503351452&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3272143694503351452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3272143694503351452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/de-vidro.html' title='De vidro.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-220599565476570363</id><published>2011-06-05T22:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T22:56:55.896-03:00</updated><title type='text'>8°C.</title><content type='html'>Dormir no seu colo de manhã e&lt;br /&gt;ganhar milhões de beijos e&lt;br /&gt;não conseguir tirar o sorriso do rosto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ficar em cima de você e embaixo do cobertor&lt;br /&gt;mexer no seu cabelo e&lt;br /&gt;sentir o seu calor&lt;br /&gt;- meu mundo inteiro - e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pedir desculpas, foi sem querer,&lt;br /&gt;por encostar as mãos geladas em você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-220599565476570363?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/220599565476570363/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=220599565476570363&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/220599565476570363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/220599565476570363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/06/8c.html' title='8°C.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5264867109875733890</id><published>2011-05-12T15:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T17:40:21.360-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Wings.</title><content type='html'>To be in love with someone is to be afraid to live in a world full of other people for the other one to fall in love with. But it is also to have hope and to believe it shall last forever, because you know that for you it always will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5264867109875733890?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5264867109875733890/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5264867109875733890&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5264867109875733890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5264867109875733890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/05/wings.html' title='Wings.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2935659414228108290</id><published>2011-05-05T11:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T11:28:32.683-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhos vivos.</title><content type='html'>Você me lembra um amigo imaginário&lt;br /&gt;que um dia eu perdi pras drogas&lt;br /&gt;A gente costumava se esconder no armário&lt;br /&gt;e rir das nossas rimas óbvias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De vez em quando leio seu livro&lt;br /&gt;e às vezes faço isso escondido&lt;br /&gt;Lembrando da fita que você me deu&lt;br /&gt;dizendo "você pra mim é isto"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me lembro bem porque escrevi a conta na parede&lt;br /&gt;ouvi aquilo durante setenta e quatro dias&lt;br /&gt;Num deles você foi embora&lt;br /&gt;e eu sabia que jamais voltaria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2935659414228108290?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2935659414228108290/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2935659414228108290&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2935659414228108290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2935659414228108290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/05/olhos-vivos.html' title='Olhos vivos.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4634333484204843835</id><published>2011-05-05T10:24:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T23:29:46.788-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I give up.</title><content type='html'>I mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried way too hard and in way too many different ways, but it's helpless and useless. I will never stop feeling this way and you just can't understand. So maybe someday I'll be ok with it. Right? My self-esteem is low as shit already, so no harm done if it gets even worse. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised I would never talk about it again. That's ok too. Wouldn't change anything... same subject, different words. I've tried to explain myself in every possible way and still my point doesn't come across. You will always see it as me being jealous and afraid when it's only me having too many scars and bad memories that refuse to fade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making you unhappy would be even worse, so yes, I give up. I'd rather suffer for eternity than be the cause of your suffering. So let's really not talk about it ever again. Not only that, but let's pretend that we never even mentioned it. It's for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, since you don't want to help me kill then - and you are the only one who can -, I will keep on pretending that there are no monsters under my bed. For the sake of us both.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4634333484204843835?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4634333484204843835/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4634333484204843835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4634333484204843835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4634333484204843835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-give-up.html' title='I give up.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1445329404710985162</id><published>2011-05-04T16:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T16:58:36.469-03:00</updated><title type='text'>-</title><content type='html'>O antigo background foi tirado do host há alguns dias e, como eu não tinha a imagem no meu computador (e mesmo se tivesse, ele está quebrado), precisei ir atrás de um layout novo pro blog. Espero que gostem da mudança e que lotem os comentários com opiniões.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem a falta de posts ultimamente.&lt;br /&gt;Sintam-se abraçados toda vez que passam aqui no meu cantinho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1445329404710985162?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1445329404710985162/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1445329404710985162&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1445329404710985162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1445329404710985162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/05/blog-post.html' title='-'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8584466183039332963</id><published>2011-04-18T14:34:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T14:54:25.802-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Às vezes</title><content type='html'>tenho tanto a escrever mas tão pouco a dizer,&lt;br /&gt;que desisto, esqueço, não me atrevo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque é melhor ficar calada&lt;br /&gt;do que só querer aparecer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8584466183039332963?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8584466183039332963/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8584466183039332963&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8584466183039332963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8584466183039332963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/04/as-vezes.html' title='Às vezes'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8028577500032150488</id><published>2011-04-15T20:52:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T16:12:38.950-03:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Sunday classics.</title><content type='html'>I never got to touch you or see you. I remember wanting to hear your voice and hanging up after a call that would only give me a "hello?". I could never reply, even though you loved me too. But I don't remember it anymore, you know? Your voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never got to hug you. I never got to kiss you. Sometimes I think I can still remember your laugh. And how I used to love your smile so much. How you kept trying to hide behind that stupid towel so I wouldn't stare so much. I never got to meet you and I never got to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I don't know if you're alive or not. I don't know a thing about you anymore, only what it used to be. I find myself not being able to tell your last name or how old you are now or why you made me love you but never came to me. Why did you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was I in love with our sorrow, and how you understood me so well? Was it because I found shelter in your words when I had nothing else to hold on to? Were all our plans just silly jokes? Did they sound like the truth, behind our laughter, to you too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could talk to you and realise that you're doing great. Are you still studying, did you find a new job? How does your room look after all that redecorating, and is everything ok? Did you find a new love, do you think of me some days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of you. And how silly I was back then, to believe so many of our shared dreams. Not that they became stupid thoughts, but things changed too much. I changed too much. But I'll always be thankful that I had you back then, that we loved each other back then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you, and I hope you miss me too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8028577500032150488?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8028577500032150488/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8028577500032150488&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8028577500032150488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8028577500032150488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/04/for-sunday-classics.html' title='For the Sunday classics.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8535588439411764729</id><published>2011-03-27T21:06:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T12:14:53.076-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Incompreensível.</title><content type='html'>Porque eu tenho medo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de te perder,&lt;br /&gt;de você encontrar alguém melhor,&lt;br /&gt;de ficar longe de você,&lt;br /&gt;de te ver indo embora,&lt;br /&gt;de não ser pra sempre,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de estar te afastando,&lt;br /&gt;incomodando,&lt;br /&gt;desapaixonando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu tenho medo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que você deixe de me amar,&lt;br /&gt;que outra pessoa se apaixone por você,&lt;br /&gt;que um dia eu não seja mais suficiente,&lt;br /&gt;que você não me queira mais,&lt;br /&gt;que queira outra,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que eu não consiga mudar pra melhor,&lt;br /&gt;te satisfazer,&lt;br /&gt;ser suficiente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adianta?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8535588439411764729?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8535588439411764729/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8535588439411764729&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8535588439411764729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8535588439411764729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/03/incompreensivel.html' title='Incompreensível.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-486244637602132781</id><published>2011-03-11T19:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T19:11:08.240-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirror.</title><content type='html'>Just because you don't see how someone could ever ever ever love you, it doesn't mean that everybody else doesn't too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-486244637602132781?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/486244637602132781/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=486244637602132781&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/486244637602132781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/486244637602132781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/03/mirror.html' title='Mirror.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6714765034454478749</id><published>2011-02-18T15:59:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T16:05:32.088-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pequenos medos.</title><content type='html'>De pequeno, tinha medo de quadrados&lt;br /&gt;pois sabe-se que têm alguns lados&lt;br /&gt;e não gostava nem um pouco de ser acompanhado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cresceu um pouco, o temor virou de sapato&lt;br /&gt;temia por seus pés,&lt;br /&gt;e se ficassem para sempre aprisionados?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muitos anos depois, hoje tem medo de ser amado&lt;br /&gt;por não ter aprendido,&lt;br /&gt;por nunca ter se acostumado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6714765034454478749?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6714765034454478749/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6714765034454478749&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6714765034454478749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6714765034454478749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/02/pequenos-medos.html' title='Pequenos medos.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5170885013232346412</id><published>2011-02-18T14:44:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T15:59:20.402-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sol.</title><content type='html'>Pra que luz quando se tem calor&lt;br /&gt;Pra que luz quando não falta amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curto circuito,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mal contato;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo apagou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas me deixa consertar,&lt;br /&gt;me deixa tentar fazer voltar;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse palco abandonado,&lt;br /&gt;essas partituras rabiscadas,&lt;br /&gt;nosso concerto quebrado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5170885013232346412?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5170885013232346412/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5170885013232346412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5170885013232346412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5170885013232346412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/02/sol.html' title='Sol.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5223111412401587306</id><published>2011-02-16T21:37:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T21:38:15.947-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Licença poética.</title><content type='html'>- Senhor, com licença, por favor. Onde pego minha senha?&lt;br /&gt;- Senha pra quê? Para escrever?&lt;br /&gt;- Não... Pra fazer o que eu bem entender, como você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5223111412401587306?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5223111412401587306/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5223111412401587306&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5223111412401587306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5223111412401587306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/02/licenca-poetica.html' title='Licença poética.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8139096552514637009</id><published>2011-02-01T22:21:00.006-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T22:25:33.452-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Love Will Tear Us Apart"</title><content type='html'>I never believed this and now I am sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love does nothing more than be.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't tear people apart.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't take the blame that people try to put in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People tear themselves apart,&lt;br /&gt;People tear each other apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love just is.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't ruin things.&lt;br /&gt;Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And love has absolutely nothing to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;Much on the contrary, I believe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8139096552514637009?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8139096552514637009/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8139096552514637009&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8139096552514637009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8139096552514637009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/02/love-will-tear-us-apart.html' title='&quot;Love Will Tear Us Apart&quot;'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-312729603929123736</id><published>2011-01-01T01:56:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T12:20:24.765-03:00</updated><title type='text'>First love.</title><content type='html'>It made me think about you, you know, the year ending and so on. It's weird... 2010... it was so amazing... everything that happened. It got me thinking about how before I met you I hadn't truly loved anyone. I thought I had, but falling for you made me realise I was wrong. I never cared this much. No one ever made me care this much.&lt;br /&gt;So then you came along and changed me. I suddenly understood love songs and quit the idea of romantic movies being silly and impossible. You got me wanting to be your girlfriend. And you made my wish come true. There were times I thought I'd lose it, that I would never be enough for you because I truly didn't know how to be someone's girlfriend... someone's anything. Then you moved to somewhere even farther. For me, that was it. I was devastated and so scared of what would happen next. But we managed. We did, didn't we? We always did. That's when I noticed how strong we could be together, how strong is my love for you. So you moved back.&lt;br /&gt;I saw you jump in your bed and damn, I wanted to jump with you so badly. But to be honest, this is how I always feel when we are together. Like jumping on the bed. Like being a kid. I love you, I always will. I hope you never go blind to this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-312729603929123736?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/312729603929123736/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=312729603929123736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/312729603929123736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/312729603929123736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/01/first-love.html' title='First love.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-7433364918879094983</id><published>2011-01-01T01:31:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T01:56:38.723-02:00</updated><title type='text'>15.</title><content type='html'>Areia para ser pisada, música para ser ouvida, abraços para serem dados, fogos para serem estourados, mãos para serem seguradas, beijos para serem trocados... Casais dançando, gente dançando. A primeira chuva do ano. Luzes coloridas no céu e barulho, muito barulho. "I love you, baby; and if it's quite alright, I need you, baby...". Brisa do mar. O quanto eu queria estar ao seu lado. "Yeeaah, let's twist again, like we did last year!". Andar com os pés na beira do oceano. A vontade de não ter desligado e conversar por horas e horas. Perceber que já não é 2010. "Só quero colo de menina, e pouco a pouco conquistar teu coração...". Vontade de dançar forró com você na areia; te beijar; te abraçar; te amar. "Até quando os dois quiser." Dançar sozinha no vento. Inventar que ano novo é em 2 minutos - por causa do horário de verão - e tentar te ligar pra ter uma virada só nossa, mesmo que por telefone. Chegar em casa e ler o que escrevi mais cedo sobre você. Sorrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, você tava lá comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Você sempre está.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O número de chamadas perdidas."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-7433364918879094983?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/7433364918879094983/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=7433364918879094983&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7433364918879094983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7433364918879094983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2011/01/15.html' title='15.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-812759539449749522</id><published>2010-12-25T01:30:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T01:59:23.396-02:00</updated><title type='text'>2010.</title><content type='html'>Foi um ano estranho. Foi um ano cheio de novidades. Foi um ano cheio de amor, lágrimas, raiva, ódio, alegrias, tristezas, descobertas, amizades... E um ano que eu não esperava que fosse tão bom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mudei de escola. Enfiei na cabeça que ia estudar em vez de fazer amigos. O resultado foi o oposto: fiz amigos ótimos, finalmente me senti a peça certa do pedaço do quebra-cabeça; e ir pra escola virou quase brincadeira, de tão divertidas que se tornaram minhas manhãs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me apaixonei, comecei a namorar pela primeira vez. E outras primeiras vezes seguiram. É, eu estava errada sobre não me aproximar de ninguém. Apesar das partes ruins, daqui uns dias completa-se um ano que estamos juntos e eu nunca vou me arrepender daquele beijo acompanhado de óculos batendo no dia 4 de janeiro ou de ter respondido "sim" naquele 13 de fevereiro. Na verdade, não me arrependo de quase nada. E em 2011 vou levar tudo que foi bom - e não é pouco - e aguardar tudo que o futuro nos reserva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso sem falar de todas as outras coisas, como meus pais terem se divorciado, eu ter passado as férias em Recife (onde meu pai foi trabalhar, durante um tempo), ter começado um projeto musical com um compositor sueco, vestibular, tudo que eu aprendi, tudo que eu vi... Foram muitas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resumindo, 2010 foi um ano diferente. Um ano bom. Espero que 2011 seja melhor, e que eu leve pra dentro dele as pessoas e lembranças de tudo que narrei aqui. Meu grupinho da escola, os poucos amigos bons da internet (alguns stalkers fofinhos também), meu namorado, a família dele... e claro, a minha. Obrigada por terem feito do meu ano o que ele foi, e desejo a todos um ótimo 2011, cheio de tudo aquilo que vocês quiserem que seja.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-812759539449749522?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/812759539449749522/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=812759539449749522&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/812759539449749522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/812759539449749522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/2010.html' title='2010.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5125447683098119833</id><published>2010-12-24T15:41:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T15:43:53.298-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Balanceio.</title><content type='html'>Acorda, trabalha, pula o almoço.&lt;br /&gt;Volta pra casa, trabalha, reclama de tudo um pouco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aí arruma sua casa enquanto bagunça a vida dos outros.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5125447683098119833?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5125447683098119833/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5125447683098119833&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5125447683098119833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5125447683098119833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/balanceio.html' title='Balanceio.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-7542102751937761479</id><published>2010-12-17T15:13:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T15:13:44.457-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Por aí.</title><content type='html'>- Você prefere perdoar ou ter ódio?&lt;br /&gt;- O que for justo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-7542102751937761479?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/7542102751937761479/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=7542102751937761479&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7542102751937761479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7542102751937761479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/por-ai.html' title='Por aí.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3928417304708872632</id><published>2010-12-16T10:09:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T10:38:19.856-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Scythe.</title><content type='html'>And that's the story of how I became a slave to the memories that liked to visit without invitations and to the dreams that came at night to torment me. They pulled me down to the shadows and made me feel like I was living inside a Byron poem as if it was the only way to live. There were broken mirrors everywhere, and each reflecting piece showed something I'd rather forget, something I never wanted to even slightly think about ever again. But they acted like they knew. And they did. As they laughed at my face. As they repeated words that were sadly familiar to my eyes. To my broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;I was challenged to forget them and I promised I would, I had to. Still, they were stronger than me and more in numbers. Still, they knew how to make me doubt everythind I had, how to make me bend to my knees and beg. But even though they break me, they also make me stout. And I shall defeat them. I shall drown them in my tears and asphyxiate each and every one of those little bitches that stole pieces of my life. They will suffocate in their sanctimoniousness and burn. Not in hell, for there exists no such thing, but in their own minds. For there is karma, and bad things await those who bad things have done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3928417304708872632?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3928417304708872632/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3928417304708872632&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3928417304708872632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3928417304708872632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/scythe.html' title='Scythe.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8639488424780654566</id><published>2010-12-14T21:44:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T21:44:55.005-02:00</updated><title type='text'>"You should never give up what you love."</title><content type='html'>- Sou uma apaixonada sem salvação.&lt;br /&gt;- Com o perdão da palavra, tem um  ponto que já ultrapassa idiotice. Tipo o fato de estar apaixonado por  uma guria que mora há mais de 3 mil quilômetros de você.&lt;br /&gt;- Isso não é idiotice.&lt;br /&gt;- O que é, então?&lt;br /&gt;- Você não escolhe esse tipo de coisa.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu poderia ter fugido.&lt;br /&gt;- Você não escolhe.&lt;br /&gt;- Fugir teria mudado alguma coisa? O que você sente? Não.&lt;br /&gt;- Mas talvez eu não estivesse ficando cada vez mais apaixonado por ela.&lt;br /&gt;- Ou a saudade faria ainda mais.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu poderia ter fugido desde o início, assim como o personagem do conto que fiz logo quando a conheci fez.&lt;br /&gt;- Poderia. Mas não fez isso.&lt;br /&gt;- E agora, nem vou fazer.&lt;br /&gt;- Porque não quer ou porque não pode?&lt;br /&gt;- Porque não posso, e nem quero.&lt;br /&gt;- Exato. Eu também não quero. E não posso.&lt;br /&gt;- Dois insensatos.&lt;br /&gt;- Sortes são sortes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu acho que vale a pena tentar. É de amor que estamos falando. Sei lá, posso ser desiludida, e boba, mas é o que eu acredito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8639488424780654566?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8639488424780654566/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8639488424780654566&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8639488424780654566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8639488424780654566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/you-should-never-give-up-what-you-love_14.html' title='&quot;You should never give up what you love.&quot;'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6848180804887232120</id><published>2010-12-14T20:55:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T21:43:57.639-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Sete.</title><content type='html'>É um desafio que recebi da &lt;a href="http://saber-sonhar.blogspot.com/"&gt;Any&lt;/a&gt; e da &lt;a href="http://duetodeum.blogspot.com/"&gt;Yara&lt;/a&gt;. Tenho que responder à 7 perguntas, dar 7 respostas, e repassar a 7 blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 coisas que tenho que fazer antes de morrer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Morar em outro país de novo.&lt;br /&gt;- Aprender a tocar piano e violoncelo.&lt;br /&gt;- Ter minha própria casa.&lt;br /&gt;- Escrever um livro.&lt;br /&gt;- Ter uma kombi da Volkswagen com uma cama/pseudo-quarto atrás e viajar com ela pelo Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;- Trabalhar com algo que eu ame.&lt;br /&gt;- Fazer a diferença na vida da maior quantidade de gente possível.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 coisas que mais digo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Palavrões em geral (em três idiomas diferentes).&lt;br /&gt;- Não.&lt;br /&gt;- Sei lá.&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;br /&gt;- Hey.&lt;br /&gt;- Fazendo?&lt;br /&gt;- Aff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 coisas que eu faço bem:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Resolver problemas de raciocínio ou lógica.&lt;br /&gt;- Explicar coisas de maneira fácil pras pessoas entenderem.&lt;br /&gt;- Leitura e compreensão de texto.&lt;br /&gt;- Trabalhos manuais.&lt;br /&gt;- Escrever.&lt;br /&gt;- Imaginar.&lt;br /&gt;- Aprender rápido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 defeitos meus:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ser possessiva.&lt;br /&gt;- Introversão excessiva.&lt;br /&gt;- Sumir da vida das pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;- Preguiça de manter relações.&lt;br /&gt;- Reclamar demais.&lt;br /&gt;- Chorar demais.&lt;br /&gt;- Ser exigente e perfeccionista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 coisas que amo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Livros.&lt;br /&gt;- Música.&lt;br /&gt;- Fotografar.&lt;br /&gt;- Aprender.&lt;br /&gt;- Imaginação.&lt;br /&gt;- Justiça e liberdade.&lt;br /&gt;- Sorrisos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7 qualidades minhas:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Esperteza.&lt;br /&gt;- Compreensão.&lt;br /&gt;- Fidelidade.&lt;br /&gt;- Luto pelo que acredito.&lt;br /&gt;- Criatividade.&lt;br /&gt;- Bom senso.&lt;br /&gt;- Saber amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preguiça imensa de recomendar os blogs e ir atrás pra avisar. Vou deixar aberto pra quem quiser fazer, não gosto de selecionar alguns e deixar outros de fora da brincadeira.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6848180804887232120?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6848180804887232120/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6848180804887232120&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6848180804887232120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6848180804887232120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/sete.html' title='Sete.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-837908763044753476</id><published>2010-12-14T15:23:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T10:38:23.847-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmare.</title><content type='html'>I'm never going to forget this, will I? I'll always dither and flinch whenever I have a flashback or hear one of those names, won't I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-837908763044753476?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/837908763044753476/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=837908763044753476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/837908763044753476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/837908763044753476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/12/nightmare.html' title='Nightmare.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2512195525983802128</id><published>2010-11-29T13:06:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T13:08:40.181-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Kismet.</title><content type='html'>É quanto eu me deito no seu peito e ouço seu coração bater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabendo que nunca vou ouvir algo tão bonito.&lt;br /&gt;Esperando que essa música seja pra sempre só minha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2512195525983802128?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2512195525983802128/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2512195525983802128&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2512195525983802128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2512195525983802128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/kismet.html' title='Kismet.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6819302221232805707</id><published>2010-11-27T13:42:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T14:04:24.937-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Você.</title><content type='html'>Eu amo seu cabelo, seu cheiro, seu abraço, seu beijo.&lt;br /&gt;O jeito como você me mima quando a gente acorda, como beija meu rosto inteiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo quando a gente dança no meio da rua.&lt;br /&gt;Quando você me levanta e me gira no meio da multidão e eu me sinto tão sua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo nossas noites juntos, nossos cochilos, nossas cócegas, nossos risos.&lt;br /&gt;Nossa intimidade, nossos segredos, nossa vontade de superar tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo todas as pequenas partes do seu corpo que só eu sei.&lt;br /&gt;O buraquinho da sua orelha esquerda, aquela marca de nascença, até seus pés.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo a ansiedade antes de te ver e quando o tempo passa rápido pra isso acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;E por mais ruim que seja esperar, faria isso sempre, por você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6819302221232805707?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6819302221232805707/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6819302221232805707&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6819302221232805707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6819302221232805707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/voce_27.html' title='Você.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3605451566886033207</id><published>2010-11-27T13:34:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T13:41:42.001-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone Else But You</title><content type='html'>Our glasses crashed when we first kissed&lt;br /&gt;When I'm alone, you're the one I miss&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we recorded a video together&lt;br /&gt;people said we are the cutest couple ever&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating Doritos and drinking wine&lt;br /&gt;I have so many memories to remember you by&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always brighten up my day&lt;br /&gt;Even when we discuss physics laws on the train&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3605451566886033207?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3605451566886033207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3605451566886033207&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3605451566886033207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3605451566886033207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/anyone-else-but-you.html' title='Anyone Else But You'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5722890611458198030</id><published>2010-11-26T13:47:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-26T13:50:43.387-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Paz.</title><content type='html'>Hoje, no caminho até o ponto de ônibus, uma borboleta branca me seguiu. Em certo momento, quando eu achei que ela já tinha parado de me rodear e ido embora, ela pousou na minha mão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguns podem achar que foi um sinal de que ia ficar tudo bem, outras que foi mera coincidência ou sorte. Mas naquele momento, meu dia melhorou imensamente e me veio uma sensação muito boa de que as coisas vão mesmo dar certo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5722890611458198030?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5722890611458198030/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5722890611458198030&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5722890611458198030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5722890611458198030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/paz.html' title='Paz.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1175914329715109530</id><published>2010-11-18T19:35:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T19:37:28.431-02:00</updated><title type='text'>This is something I wrote a while back and now I don't really remember what it means.</title><content type='html'>Love is salvation&lt;br /&gt;Love is damnation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is comedy&lt;br /&gt;Love is horror&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is honor&lt;br /&gt;Love is disgrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is everything&lt;br /&gt;or so they say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is nothing&lt;br /&gt;and it's not gonna be ok&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1175914329715109530?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1175914329715109530/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1175914329715109530&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1175914329715109530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1175914329715109530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-is-something-i-wrote-while-back.html' title='This is something I wrote a while back and now I don&apos;t really remember what it means.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2191575778906668201</id><published>2010-11-05T16:41:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T17:03:47.369-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Às vezes eu acho que a Nina era um pássaro.</title><content type='html'>Alguns cachorros - entre os que conheci, pelo menos - têm manias curiosas, engraçadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Greta, a adorável Cocker Spaniel que meus pais compraram antes de me terem (e depois deram pra minha avó quando eu apareci), costumava me levar pra ver a trilha de formigas na parede do quintal. Ela abanava o rabo, excitada, ao guiar alguém paciente o suficiente para observar o que ela via com tanta alegria. Ninguém nunca entendeu porque ela fazia isso ou porque ela gostava tanto de vigiar as formigas de um lado para o outro. Ela faleceu há um par de anos mas isso é algo que eu nunca vou esquecer. O quanto ela era feliz perto daqueles insetos minúsculos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Nina, minha Lhasa Apso, é apaixonada pela janela. Ou pelo céu, na verdade. Desde pequena ela gosta de sentir o vento e passa horas e horas perto da janela aproveitando a brisa. De vez em quando ela pede pra subir, arranhando a parede próxima. Fico um tempão segurando minha bebê atrás da rede que separa lá fora do meu quarto, enquanto faço carinho. O olhar dela ao ver o céu e sentir o vento na cara... juro, é de achar que ela poderia sair voando no mesmo instante. É uma mistura de emoção com certa dor de não poder se lançar ao ar, que não sei... É magnífico. Por isso deixo ela aproveitar isso por longos minutos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não acredito em coisas como reencarnação e afins, mas às vezes, não dá pra deixar de imaginar que sei lá, talvez a Greta houvesse sido uma formiga um dia e a Nina uma ave bem bonita. Ou vai ver não passa(va) de desejo. Acho que tudo que é vivo deveria poder ser o que quisesse. Ah, seria lindo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2191575778906668201?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2191575778906668201/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2191575778906668201&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2191575778906668201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2191575778906668201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/11/as-vezes-eu-acho-que-nina-era-um.html' title='Às vezes eu acho que a Nina era um pássaro.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6169274834118913155</id><published>2010-10-26T15:05:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T15:14:21.245-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Do agora.</title><content type='html'>Queria que você fosse meu futuro e  passado. É, é, eu sei... não dá pra mudar o que já aconteceu ou inventar alguém no meio pra mudar tudo que um dia existiu. Então o jeito de te encaixar é mostrando tudo, contando tudo. Entregar todo o pretérito, quase da mesma forma que o futuro. O primeiro, nos segredos confessados; o segundo, nos sentimentos trocados. E parece que dá certo, porque tudo que passou eu já não lembro ou não me importo... e tudo que está por vir eu fico aqui e (te) aguardo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6169274834118913155?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6169274834118913155/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6169274834118913155&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6169274834118913155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6169274834118913155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/10/do-agora.html' title='Do agora.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-435213054513304356</id><published>2010-10-13T17:11:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T17:18:09.003-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bobeira.</title><content type='html'>Quando digo que te amo mais não é só pra inventar figura de linguagem. Mas se você quiser pensar que é, então saiba que não passa de eufemismo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-435213054513304356?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/435213054513304356/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=435213054513304356&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/435213054513304356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/435213054513304356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/10/bobeira.html' title='Bobeira.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3995999036687648881</id><published>2010-10-06T17:30:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T17:38:05.968-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Só pra dizer que ainda tô viva.</title><content type='html'>Sei que não tenho postado, peço desculpas por isso. Não ando inspirada pra nada, muito menos pra criar. Espero que minha criatividade volte logo, detesto abandonar meu cantinho aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Criei umas páginas aqui no blog (que vocês podem ver logo abaixo do título), que por enquanto estão em construção. Mas já tem um pouquinho de texto no "AUTORA", caso alguém se interesse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Também coloquei mais umas 15 músicas no player. Sempre elogiam minha playlist e tenho certeza que muita gente vem aqui mais pra ouvir do que pra ler, haha. Vou ver se crio uma página com a lista completa, para facilitar. Espero que gostem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Torçam pra eu conseguir escrever algo logo, estou com medo de que isso me enlouqueça em breve e não sei se é todo manicômio que tem internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3995999036687648881?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3995999036687648881/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3995999036687648881&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3995999036687648881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3995999036687648881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-pra-dizer-que-ainda-to-viva.html' title='Só pra dizer que ainda tô viva.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-732042465274852011</id><published>2010-10-04T15:41:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:19:22.633-02:00</updated><title type='text'>This is something I wrote a while back and know exactly what it means.</title><content type='html'>- We're breaking up.&lt;br /&gt;- Why?&lt;br /&gt;- You know why.&lt;br /&gt;- But I've done wrong things before and you forgave me, what's so different this time?&lt;br /&gt;- I finally love myself more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-732042465274852011?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/732042465274852011/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=732042465274852011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/732042465274852011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/732042465274852011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/10/this-is-something-i-wrote-while-back.html' title='This is something I wrote a while back and know exactly what it means.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3378064777394320912</id><published>2010-09-15T18:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T18:18:11.325-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok.</title><content type='html'>- I need you to read a book for me, ok?&lt;br /&gt;- Why?&lt;br /&gt;- I just need you to.&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- So, what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;- I think you are scared. I think you need to stop thinking that I'll run away from you. I think you feel like you're the main character, and you're not. You're not as broken as you feel you are and I'm not going anywhere. But you're starting to make me scared because when people are fragile and frightened like you they do stupid things. I'm right here for you, I'll hold you no matter what. Don't ruin it because you're insecure, ok?&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3378064777394320912?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3378064777394320912/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3378064777394320912&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3378064777394320912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3378064777394320912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/09/ok.html' title='Ok.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2385491370863035938</id><published>2010-09-15T18:02:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T18:04:25.022-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Previsão.</title><content type='html'>Eu sei que,&lt;br /&gt;quando você me deixar,&lt;br /&gt;seus beijos não serão mais os meus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tudo que eu vou conseguir lembrar&lt;br /&gt;é o adeus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2385491370863035938?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2385491370863035938/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2385491370863035938&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2385491370863035938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2385491370863035938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/09/previsao.html' title='Previsão.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3292934802749634484</id><published>2010-09-14T19:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T19:44:57.925-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Falando com ignorantes.</title><content type='html'>- De que maneiras vocês gostam de se expressar?&lt;br /&gt;- Fazendo.&lt;br /&gt;- Fazendo o quê?&lt;br /&gt;- As expressões.&lt;br /&gt;- ...&lt;br /&gt;- Tomando atitudes, pensando e reproduzindo.&lt;br /&gt;- Sim, mas reproduzindo o quê?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pintura? Fotografia? Música?&lt;br /&gt;Gritos? Rabiscos? Sorrisos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vácuo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3292934802749634484?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3292934802749634484/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3292934802749634484&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3292934802749634484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3292934802749634484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/09/falando-com-ignorantes.html' title='Falando com ignorantes.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4880671291662584035</id><published>2010-09-13T18:15:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:23:33.412-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuga.</title><content type='html'>- Você realmente acha que vai ser mais feliz com ela?&lt;br /&gt;- Sim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela primeira vez na vida, ela queria ter ouvido um não. Mas ela não chorou. Em vez disso, olhou nos olhos dele e não deixou a dor sair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Então vá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respondeu como se realmente quisesse que ele fosse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele não se mexeu. Começava a duvidar se aquilo era certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu quero que você seja feliz. Vá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela repetiu, firmemente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando ele deu as costas e partiu no sentido contrário, ainda perto o suficiente ela deixou só um pedido:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- E nunca olhe para trás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque era onde ela estaria sempre, amando-o e esperando que ele de fato fosse mais feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ele soube, no momento em que ouvira aquelas últimas palavras, que havia feito a escolha errada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez até fosse ser mais feliz, mas não era certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela havia feito por ele tudo que ninguém jamais faria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Por mais que ele amasse outras mais do que ela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ela o amava mais do que qualquer outra amaria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por mais que ela fosse estar sempre ali, ele não podia mais voltar. Por mais vontade que tivesse de se virar, já havia sido o fim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então desejou que fosse ela quem não olhasse para trás, que percebesse que ele não merecia, e fosse ser mais feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No último segundo, quase olhou para trás, mas não o fez. Cumprir a promessa era o mínimo que ele lhe devia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4880671291662584035?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4880671291662584035/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4880671291662584035&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4880671291662584035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4880671291662584035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/09/simposio-de-adeuses.html' title='Fuga.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2300461276671199945</id><published>2010-08-31T19:13:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T00:02:47.166-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Despair.</title><content type='html'>- No, don't do this! Be mad at me! Say you hate me! Say I had no right to change the rules of our game, please! Say you never want to talk to me again! Don't be nice to me, I don't desearve it!&lt;br /&gt;- What for? There were never rules, there was never a game. I want you to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;- Don't... please. You know I wouldn't be able to do the same for you. Not that I don't want you to be happy, but... I wish you would be happy with... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;. I know we could never be together, but still, somehow we are... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;- But now you've found someone you can really be together with. You shouldn't feel guilty.&lt;br /&gt;- What if you find someone else too?&lt;br /&gt;- Then we'll both be happy. And maybe someday we'll go back to each other.&lt;br /&gt;- What if... what if by then you don't want me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;- Maybe &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; won't want me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I hope that happens. So we can both be free.&lt;br /&gt;- You can't tell, but we have always been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2300461276671199945?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2300461276671199945/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2300461276671199945&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2300461276671199945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2300461276671199945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/despair.html' title='Despair.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1387355814142960852</id><published>2010-08-31T16:03:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T16:16:00.681-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ou algo assim.</title><content type='html'>Porque posso tocar seu peito, mas não seu coração. Posso sentir o ar que sai de você, mas não o motivo que te faz respirar. Posso fazer parte da sua vida, mas não ser o seu mundo. Posso me esquentar em você, mas nunca ser o calor dentro de você. E eu queria ser tudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1387355814142960852?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1387355814142960852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1387355814142960852&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1387355814142960852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1387355814142960852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/ou-algo-assim.html' title='Ou algo assim.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6037490448276013911</id><published>2010-08-23T22:36:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T18:10:54.467-03:00</updated><title type='text'>From the pages of an old notebook.</title><content type='html'>Your mom looked at me like if she knew I would be her future daughter-in-law. The look in her eyes was sure of that. She liked me so much, she almost made up for how much my mom disliked you. She thought you were a bad influence and it wasn't a good habit for any girl to spend everyday going to a boy's house alone. But it was innocent. We would play in bed and accidentally touch and joke about catching each other's germs. We were kids, which is a way of saying that we loved each other without knowing it. And oh, how we did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6037490448276013911?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6037490448276013911/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6037490448276013911&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6037490448276013911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6037490448276013911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/your-mom-looked-at-me-like-if-she-knew.html' title='From the pages of an old notebook.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1374771698398561252</id><published>2010-08-23T22:24:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:38:03.206-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pedras e caminhos.</title><content type='html'>Ela não se importava muito com as coisas que ele fazia porque no fundo tinha a esperança de que doesse mais nele mesmo do que nela. Se ele não conseguisse dormir, sentindo a maior culpa e arrependimento do mundo, se resolvesse parar de errar por ela... bastava. E mesmo que não parasse, se ele sofresse por machucá-la já era prova de que mesmo ele não merecendo, talvez ela pudesse ficar um pouco.&lt;br /&gt;Porque se ele conseguisse olhar nos olhos dela e admitir para si mesmo que não estava sendo honesto e dando tudo o que ela merecia, então o saldo pelo menos ficava um pouco menos negativo.&lt;br /&gt;A balança continuaria caindo para um lado sempre, mas isso era algo que ela não via. Ou se recusava a ver.&lt;br /&gt;E assim, tudo estava bem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1374771698398561252?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1374771698398561252/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1374771698398561252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1374771698398561252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1374771698398561252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/peso-na-consciencia.html' title='Pedras e caminhos.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5009110388317098544</id><published>2010-08-19T20:04:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T20:11:24.726-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ya no regreso, lo siento.</title><content type='html'>Es simple pero complejo y todo al mismo tiempo, escucha:&lt;br /&gt;- ¿Me oyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creo que mi voz anda poco blanda —&lt;br /&gt;me aburro demasiado y por muy poco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que pasa es que ya no sé que hacer&lt;br /&gt;y no tengo ganas de arrepentirme, mucho menos de volver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5009110388317098544?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5009110388317098544/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5009110388317098544&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5009110388317098544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5009110388317098544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/ya-no-regreso-lo-siento.html' title='Ya no regreso, lo siento.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3278169229396625189</id><published>2010-08-19T19:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T19:44:47.789-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Selo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MeGpciE5im8/TGQM1iazQqI/AAAAAAAACm0/l19hUU9TcR4/s1600/selo-oficial-p.s.iloveyou.jpg"&gt;"Este blog me inspira"&lt;/a&gt; da fofa da &lt;a href="http://187tonsdefrio.blogspot.com/"&gt;Gabriela&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. O que te inspira?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que principalmente o quão infinitas são as possibilidades. Posso escrever e inventar qualquer coisa e ninguém pode julgar se ela é real ou não. Pra mim é tudo real, se não aqui, em algum outro lugar. E também, que eu sempre tento escrever o que tá dentro de mim, e é bom poder externar algumas coisas. Gosto de diálogos e de conexões emocionais entre as coisas, as pessoas. Sei lá, existe tanto pra ser escrito, queria ter mais inspiração!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Oferecer a 5 blogs fontes de sua inspiração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://amareelos.blogspot.com/"&gt;amar e elos&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://vamoscarnavalizar.blogspot.com/"&gt;Infinito Particular&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://reservismo.blogspot.com/"&gt;Reservismo&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://elfpie.blogspot.com/"&gt;elfpie&lt;/a&gt;, e tô vendendo uma quinta vaga (que minha memória é ruim e faz um tempinho que não passeio por aí pra conhecer novos cantos).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Comentar sobre o blog da autora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que eu acho mais mágico no blog da minha quase xará é que pô, ela cursa Matemática. Não tô gozando com vocês, é super verdade. Se tem uma coisa que eu gosto muito é de contraste, é de ver as coisas provando que não são o que deveriam/poderiam ser e vice-versa. Quero dizer, quem adivinharia que uma (futura) matemática poderia escrever palavras tão bonitas? E escreve, viu. Além do mais, não só tem talento para palavras e números como também é uma graça de pessoa. E isso eu faço questão de contar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3278169229396625189?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3278169229396625189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3278169229396625189&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3278169229396625189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3278169229396625189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/selo.html' title='Selo.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3746346403692593575</id><published>2010-08-18T21:11:00.012-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T19:16:29.522-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinzas.</title><content type='html'>- Você não podia falar sobre sua história com a garota pela qual foi apaixonada? O que você sentiu, o que pensava de seus próprios sentimentos. É que estou numa situação parecida e gosto muito dos seus conselhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Não era exatamente apaixonada, mas eu gostava bastante dela. Queria ficar do lado dela, ter algo a mais... e ela não queria. Então meio que partiu meu coração um pouco, foi uma pequena decepção. &lt;span&gt;Sempre dói quando a gente consegue um pedaço mas não o todo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.formspring.me/hydrogenbomb/q/979301607"&gt;(aqui.)&lt;/a&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/6870632460857528814-3746346403692593575?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3746346403692593575/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3746346403692593575&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3746346403692593575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3746346403692593575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/cinzas.html' title='Cinzas.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2345326223533722204</id><published>2010-08-17T22:55:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T23:04:56.949-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Como abrir uma porta, usar um saca-rolhas, tirar as roupas e encher uma cama.</title><content type='html'>Saudade do seu calor,&lt;br /&gt;- você em cima de mim&lt;br /&gt;eu em cima de você -&lt;br /&gt;de todo nosso amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vamos voltar logo pra debaixo do cobertor,&lt;br /&gt;que tá frio e eu não resisto, por favor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2345326223533722204?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2345326223533722204/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2345326223533722204&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2345326223533722204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2345326223533722204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/como-abrir-uma-porta-e-usar-um-saca.html' title='Como abrir uma porta, usar um saca-rolhas, tirar as roupas e encher uma cama.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-9107962024438535946</id><published>2010-08-11T14:06:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T14:13:20.927-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vagalume.</title><content type='html'>Amor é quando você é míope e está subindo a rua sem óculos. Vê, ao longe, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aquela&lt;/span&gt; pessoa vindo na sua direção e pensa "ele veio até aqui só pra me ver chegando da escola!". Seu coração começa a bater mais rápido, o maior sorriso do mundo aparece e a decepção quase te faz tropeçar quando você percebe que era apenas alguém parecido.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-9107962024438535946?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/9107962024438535946/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=9107962024438535946&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9107962024438535946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9107962024438535946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/vagalume.html' title='Vagalume.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8208901217582221615</id><published>2010-08-09T18:48:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T17:57:50.401-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Este é pelo jeito</title><content type='html'>que você me faz querer ficar em câmera lenta&lt;br /&gt;que você me arremeda e me zoa&lt;br /&gt;que eu te esfrio e você me esquenta&lt;br /&gt;que esse amor me deixa totalmente boba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nossa&lt;/span&gt; cama fica com o seu cheiro&lt;br /&gt;que meu quarto fica vazio sem você&lt;br /&gt;que sinto falta dos nossos abraços e beijos&lt;br /&gt;que eu te amo apesar de qualquer erro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8208901217582221615?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8208901217582221615/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8208901217582221615&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8208901217582221615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8208901217582221615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/este-e-pelo-jeito.html' title='Este é pelo jeito'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3468957187523327108</id><published>2010-08-08T19:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T19:59:16.049-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry.</title><content type='html'>I know you hate it but trust me, there's no one who hates it more than I do. And I've been living like this for years now. I'm sorry you have to see things like this, but not as I'm sorry that they must happen. It's not my fault, and as time goes by I get more and more convinced that it never really is.&lt;br /&gt;But this time I just needed you to hold me. I needed that so badly. I wish I didn't kept saying "I'm sorry" all the time, I wish you had held me close and told me you love me. I wish I could've cried in your arms instead of having to see you go away again - and feeling that you didn't want to be there, but somewhere else. I wish I didn't have to wish all this because nothing would've happened to make me wish it all. But it did.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that I invited you over.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that things are never perfect.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that you had to see me crying and hurting.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry it wasn't like I wanted it to be.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry that I'm this mess,&lt;br /&gt;and that everything that surrounds me is too.&lt;br /&gt;You're the only beautiful thing I have and screwing that up hurts me more than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared, I'm insecure, I'm broken and totally fucked up, but when I'm with you it's like it doesn't matter, I feel like I'm just love. Like I was breathing it, living it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;being&lt;/span&gt; it.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to hold you so much.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted you to be there for me, even when I was crying and you couldn't take it anymore. I know you had to leave, but it felt like you also &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wanted &lt;/span&gt;to leave.&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop crying about it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired and I'm sick and I'm stuck here.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to be anything else.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to write bad feeling with pretty words.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I did.&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I wish so many things that will never be real.&lt;br /&gt;If I could have just one wish, I would, like Jenny, ask with all my strenght: "please make me a bird, so I can fly far far away from here".&lt;br /&gt;Then I'd be free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3468957187523327108?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3468957187523327108/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3468957187523327108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3468957187523327108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3468957187523327108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/sorry.html' title='Sorry.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8558585867635938963</id><published>2010-08-07T01:21:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:44:32.508-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O amor faz criar raízes.</title><content type='html'>O que eu quero dizer com isso é que o amor prende.&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém tem motivo pra ficar quando não se ama,&lt;br /&gt;então pode ir embora quando bem pretende.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não que aprisione apenas a lugares, não, não...&lt;br /&gt;Nômades apaixonados só vão embora se o amor for junto,&lt;br /&gt;e quem fica só fica onde o amor enraíza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor faz ficar, mesmo que só na memória ou num lugar.&lt;br /&gt;Cria presos ao objeto de sentimento,&lt;br /&gt;faz desejar perto... contraria tudo que faria alguém mais esperto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como já disse Camões, é estar preso por vontade;&lt;br /&gt;é contrariar todos os sentidos e significados, é perigar e arriscar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por isso não se deve brincar, e muito menos rifar, corações.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8558585867635938963?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8558585867635938963/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8558585867635938963&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8558585867635938963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8558585867635938963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-amor-faz-criar-raizes.html' title='O amor faz criar raízes.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-1859554260610694448</id><published>2010-08-06T00:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T00:03:05.193-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A dor da traição, da desilusão e outros ãos.</title><content type='html'>Era como um mendigo,&lt;br /&gt;buscando algo que curasse todas aquelas dores;&lt;br /&gt;Nas noites só, de andarilho,&lt;br /&gt;implorando por palavras doces e alguns amores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como se pudessem esquentar esse inverno,&lt;br /&gt;quem sabe levar o passado embora,&lt;br /&gt;fazer &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;os outros&lt;/span&gt; levarem amor a sério;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, sem demora,&lt;br /&gt;trazer quem se ama pra bem perto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-1859554260610694448?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/1859554260610694448/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=1859554260610694448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1859554260610694448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/1859554260610694448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/dor-da-traicao-da-desilusao-e-outros.html' title='A dor da traição, da desilusão e outros ãos.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2204633021110752070</id><published>2010-08-05T22:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T22:44:30.677-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Equações de setingentésimo grau.</title><content type='html'>Não há quem entenda,&lt;br /&gt;e não há fórmula que resolva.&lt;br /&gt;Não há o que explique,&lt;br /&gt;menos ainda alguém querendo que eu fique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- São rimas bobas,&lt;br /&gt;assim como todos os meus motivos;&lt;br /&gt;Mas são válidos e verdadeiros,&lt;br /&gt;assim como tudo que eu sinto. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso,&lt;br /&gt;e tendo já dito mais e tudo isso,&lt;br /&gt;acho que por enquanto eu fico.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2204633021110752070?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2204633021110752070/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2204633021110752070&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2204633021110752070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2204633021110752070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/08/equacoes-de-setingentesimo-grau_05.html' title='Equações de setingentésimo grau.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-633121663084569513</id><published>2010-07-30T17:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T17:37:04.697-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear L. and R.,</title><content type='html'>I've been spending lots of time trying to start this. I didn't know how to tell both of you that I was leaving, so I just did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin with, Love, we've spent too much time together the past few years and it never really worked out. And you, Rage, deep inside you always knew the clock was ticking for us and someday we would be parted. Besides, the three of us could never live together. Our situation left me in a position where I had to pick one, when I couldn't. I wanted to have you both, but it wasn't possible. Our relationships happened in different times, not only for me but for all of us. I was so young when Love and I met, and way to immature and needy when I fell for Rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to be who I was anymore, so I left in hopes of finding Happiness. I'd never met It before, but everybody always told me It was nice and warm. After a while, I gave up searching. I think that's why Happiness ended up finding me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing this because I no longer feel guilty for leaving you and because I wanted to finally say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know you're always with me, Love, for I'm in love now; and you, Rage, for desire sometimes makes us desperate. I hope that whatever it is you both need, that it ends up finding you, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadness&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-633121663084569513?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/633121663084569513/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=633121663084569513&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/633121663084569513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/633121663084569513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/dear-l-and-r.html' title='Dear L. and R.,'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-9222691269549938511</id><published>2010-07-26T18:00:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:47:50.173-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Inefabilidade.</title><content type='html'>Alma dizia se apaixonar só pra não perder o costume. Não queria desaprender o amor, então tentava sentir aquilo sempre, trazendo ou não calor. Simplesmente porque gostava daquele sentimento, independente de ser correspondido ou reconhecido.&lt;br /&gt;De segunda-feira, amava um desconhecido no trem.&lt;br /&gt;De vez em quando, às quartas, encantava-se pela paixão entre um casal de velhinhos que sentava sempre no mesmo banco perto de um jardim pelo qual ela passava.&lt;br /&gt;Nos sábados, apaixonava-se por personagens das grandes telas, que dividia com as mocinhas de tais filmes.&lt;br /&gt;Alma passava sempre despercebida, amando. Sentia-se amada só por amar. Acreditava que o fato do mundo lhe dar tantos amores era a forma que tinha de mandar amor de volta.&lt;br /&gt;E assim, era feliz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-9222691269549938511?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/9222691269549938511/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=9222691269549938511&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9222691269549938511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9222691269549938511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/inefabilidade.html' title='Inefabilidade.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-725975357355584320</id><published>2010-07-20T13:13:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T18:00:20.070-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Luzes, turbinas e probabilidades desconhecidas.</title><content type='html'>Eu sempre fui meio indiferente a viajar de avião. Pegava tantos vôos que pra mim era algo meio banal. Mas desta vez, foi diferente. Não a ida, mas a volta.&lt;br /&gt;Entrei feliz no avião, porque estava finalmente voltando pra minha cidade - que apesar da violência, da poluição, do barulho, eu adoro imensamente. Sentei na janela, alguns assentos atrás da asa (o que é bom, porque me dá aflição sentar perto das turbinas, sempre imagino a coisa toda explodindo). É tão lindo ver a cidade ficando cada vez menor... especialmente quando dá pra ver o mar também, naquele azul esverdeado tão claro que a cor se mistura com a da areia. Mesmo com as nuvens atrapalhando um pouco, de certa forma completavam o quadro todo.&lt;br /&gt;Não gosto de dormir no avião, gosto de ficar vendo tudo pela janela, me sentindo imensa no mundo, e quando não tem nada pra ver, fico lendo ou cantarolando. Tirei várias fotos pela janela, por mais idiota que isso seja. Sorria o tempo todo. Vi o arco-íris, quando estávamos quase decolando. Há anos que não via aquelas cores bonitas agrupadas no meio das nuvens. Foi lindo.&lt;br /&gt;Depois precisei trocar de vôo, para pegar a conexão. Estava em Salvador, pela primeira vez - mesmo não contando de verdade, porque não saí do aeroporto. Mandei uma mensagem pra uma amiga minha de lá, gastando meus últimos créditos e ficando apenas com quatro centavos - dei risada quando recebi a mensagem da operadora avisando.&lt;br /&gt;No aeroporto, meu irmão encontrou um amigo dele que ia pegar o mesmo vôo que a gente. Meu irmão passou a viagem inteira brincando que isso ia acontecer, e a gente não botou muita fé porque mesmo as duas famílias viajando no mesmo dia e passando pelo mesmo aeroporto, são tantos vôos que é difícil isso acontecer. Mas aconteceu. Adoro essas coincidências da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de um tempo, finalmente entrei no avião que ia me trazer pra São Paulo. Assento 5E. Quem viaja bastante de avião sabe que lá por esse número a turbina fica bem do ladinho. Foi aí que deu problema. Um senhor, de nome Osvaldo, tinha o mesmo assento marcado na passagem, erro do sistema da empresa aérea. Deixei ele sentar, porque a aeromoça disse que me colocaria lá pra trás, onde estavam meu pai e meus irmãos. Fiquei esperando um tempão, do lado da cabine do piloto, até que todo mundo do avião se acomodou. Vôo lotado. Lotadíssimo, se for pensar que tinha mais gente do que cabia. Eu, no caso. Ou o senhor Osvaldo. Fizeram uma família sair, que estava lá por causa de algum bônus ou algo assim... não entendi, mas faziam parecer como se eles tivessem menos direito de estar naquele avião. No final acabou sobrando lugar e eu pude até escolher. Peguei uma janela, não lembro se no número 19 ou 20. Diferente do avião anterior, fiquei do outro lado do corredor. O assento do meio ficou livre, então eu pude colocar minha mochila ali, compartilhando com o homem do lado, que colocou o jornal dele no meio também.&lt;br /&gt;Não tem muita graça ficar olhando pela janela à noite, então peguei o livro que estou lendo esses dias e li por horas. Só parei quando o avião foi descendo e começou a dar pra ver as luzes das cidades. É tão bonito. Sobrevoamos Campinas, e provavelmente várias das cidades ao redor. É tanta, mas tanta luz! E toda vez que o avião descia um pouco, o frio na barriga me fazia quase rir, como um brinquedo de parque de diversões - quem me conhece sabe que eu morro de rir nos brinquedos que dão vento na barriga, haha. Tentei tirar fotos, mas é horrível fotografar luz em movimento, fica tudo parecendo rabisco luminoso.&lt;br /&gt;O avião finalmente aterrissou. Era pra ter chegado às 19h20, mas atrasou e era 20h30 quando descemos dele. O homem sentado perto de mim deixou um livro no lugar que havia entre a gente. Peguei o livro e fui devolver pra ele, dizendo "hey, você esqueceu seu livro!", ao que ele respondeu "foi de propósito". Eu sorri e fiquei com o livro. Não é o tipo de coisa que eu gosto de ler, mas é um livro, mesmo assim. E fiquei considerando as chances de um homem perder um livro de propósito ao lado de uma fanática por livros. Não entendi os motivos dele, se ele fazia isso por generosidade e simpatia ou por ter detestado o livro. Mesmo assim, fiquei feliz pelo presente, e pela possibilidade, pequena e remota, ter acontecido comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Até pegar as malas e encontrar minha mãe esperando na saída... bom, chegamos bem tarde em casa. A Nina fez a maior festa, pulando e chorando e pedindo colo. Meu quarto, minha cama, minhas coisas. Adoro viajar, mas é bom voltar pra casa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-725975357355584320?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/725975357355584320/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=725975357355584320&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/725975357355584320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/725975357355584320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/luzes-voadoras-e-probabilidades.html' title='Luzes, turbinas e probabilidades desconhecidas.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8870877991873632177</id><published>2010-07-13T23:25:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T23:47:16.269-03:00</updated><title type='text'>By the seaside.</title><content type='html'>Thing is, I've been to the most beautiful places this last couple of days and still all I could think about - all I can think about - is how much I wanted you to be here with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8870877991873632177?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8870877991873632177/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8870877991873632177&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8870877991873632177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8870877991873632177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/by-seaside.html' title='By the seaside.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2848872698585147028</id><published>2010-07-12T23:06:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T23:12:01.526-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Alguns amores fazem barulho, outros nunca quebram o silêncio.</title><content type='html'>Nem todo amor deve ser usado para preencher vazios,&lt;br /&gt;alguns só servem para multiplicá-los e aprofundá-los.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas de todo jeito, é sempre algo bonito de se ter&lt;br /&gt;e de lamentar ao se perder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2848872698585147028?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2848872698585147028/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2848872698585147028&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2848872698585147028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2848872698585147028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/alguns-amores-fazem-barulho-outros.html' title='Alguns amores fazem barulho, outros nunca quebram o silêncio.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4569035198895398725</id><published>2010-07-08T19:43:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:50:17.908-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Cegueira noturna.</title><content type='html'>Não é o ciúmes, a traição,&lt;br /&gt;a perda de confiança ou o amor perdido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá bom, é tudo isso,&lt;br /&gt;mas tem coisa além.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dor, o nojo de ter se dado a quem não merecia,&lt;br /&gt;dos toques, beijos e segredos (com)partidos,&lt;br /&gt;as lembranças dos tempos em que não se sabia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essas coisas não voltam,&lt;br /&gt;o que você deu de si mesma não volta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que sobra é a dor,&lt;br /&gt;- e o amor que também não vai embora&lt;br /&gt;mas se mistura -&lt;br /&gt;raiva,&lt;br /&gt;ódio,&lt;br /&gt;arrependimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sensação de que você foi burra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4569035198895398725?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4569035198895398725/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4569035198895398725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4569035198895398725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4569035198895398725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/cegueira-noturna.html' title='Cegueira noturna.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2084762848580089142</id><published>2010-07-03T13:38:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T13:49:59.386-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbowed ceiling.</title><content type='html'>She humiliated herself for him in front of everyone. Now she couldn't take it. Even though she had won, even though she got what she wanted. Truth was that her pride was bigger than her love. She couldn't let other see her like she was now, after what they'd seem. She had to get away, even if it meant losing what she finally had. Love. Who needs it if it makes you completely nuts, when it changes who you are? Being herself was more important. It was the only thing she would have if everything else crumbled to her feet.&lt;br /&gt;Entreating for what you desire is never worth it, no matter how much you want it. Things that really belong to you shouldn't be begged for. And when someone really loves you, there's no need to implore. That someone shouldn't even allow it.&lt;br /&gt;She would be ok. Eventually she would get back to being who she was. Not a lovesick nutter, but the complete opposite - ignorant of love and everything that surrounds it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2084762848580089142?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2084762848580089142/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2084762848580089142&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2084762848580089142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2084762848580089142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/rainbowed-ceiling.html' title='Rainbowed ceiling.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8703972442963378772</id><published>2010-07-01T22:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T22:10:12.986-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Museu de amores modernos.</title><content type='html'>Ah, a necessidade de tocar...&lt;br /&gt;de mover a mão um centímetro&lt;br /&gt;- discreta e imperceptivelmente -&lt;br /&gt;na direção da do outro,&lt;br /&gt;só por encostar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é engraçado,&lt;br /&gt;não é meio bonito?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estamos sempre tentando encaixar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8703972442963378772?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8703972442963378772/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8703972442963378772&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8703972442963378772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8703972442963378772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/07/museu-de-amores-modernos.html' title='Museu de amores modernos.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5219719010634768824</id><published>2010-06-25T00:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T00:40:18.781-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bar circense.</title><content type='html'>Era meio difícil acreditar no que ele dizia. Será que todos os bêbados falavam verdades demais quando bebiam, ou também havia os que inventavam loucuras?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5219719010634768824?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5219719010634768824/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5219719010634768824&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5219719010634768824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5219719010634768824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/bar-circense.html' title='Bar circense.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8392215596444261446</id><published>2010-06-24T18:20:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T19:30:45.984-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Círculos na neve.</title><content type='html'>Talvez fossem as saudades que seus lábios sentiam dos dele, ou quem sabe aquele medo de perdê-lo, que fazia com que ela o beijasse como se fosse a última vez. Jamais imaginou que a intensidade dos beijos que trocara com o garoto antes pudesse ser superada. Isso criava nela uma vontade mal-acostumada de quero-mais. Sabia que as chances de ter os pedaços de seu coração partidos - em partes ainda menores - eram grandes, mas não se importava. Não queria pensar nisso. Queria acreditar que quiçá, se conseguisse evitar aquela idéia em sua cabeça, aquilo não acontecesse. Era uma idéia bonita, sorridente. Então agarrou-se nela com todas as suas forças.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejava, mais que tudo, pausar aquele momento. Ou gravá-lo, como se fizesse parte de um filme, para que assim pudesse dar replay naquele instante sempre que quisesse. Guardar a beleza daquelas trocas (de olhares, medos, suspiros, sentimentos) pra sempre, pro seu mundo. Sentia os lábios, a língua, as mãos dele, e tentava disfaçar os batimentos de seu coração - ora fortes, altos, ora lentos, fracos -, uma irregularidade tão destoante do que estava sentindo: algo tão certo quanto o fato de que uma hora aquilo tudo acabaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então deu-lhe um último beijo, mais intenso e apaixonado que todos os outros que trocaram antes. O desespero, o temor, a paixão... Sentimentos tão fortes misturados. Ela se sentiu explodir, como se já não estivesse em seu corpo. Chegava a ser melhor que a sensação de estar voando: por um breve segundo, o tempo parou. Seu desejo tornava-se realidade, e assim, acabava. Afastou-se, embora não quisesse, e deu um beijo nas mãos dele, na testa... e um último encontro de lábios, totalmente calados. Nenhum dos dois disse, mas sabiam. Adeus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8392215596444261446?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8392215596444261446/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8392215596444261446&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8392215596444261446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8392215596444261446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/circulos-na-neve.html' title='Círculos na neve.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6001988320892782401</id><published>2010-06-24T18:03:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T18:19:49.494-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Verão, parte II.</title><content type='html'>Tentava enganar-se, fingia não enxergar. Era mais fácil assim, não admitir seus sentimentos nem dentro de si. O que estava acontecendo com ele? Sentimentos... Uma palavra cujo significado e contexto sempre foram abominados e ignorados por ele e que, agora, parecia tê-lo consumido.&lt;br /&gt;Mentia para si mesmo procurando uma resposta quando já a tinha; amarrava um pano sobre seus olhos para não ver. Não podia deixar que aquilo, fosse o que fosse, aumentasse. Ele tinha que esquecer, parar de alimentar esperanças. Esperanças! Para onde havia ido a auto-confiança, o ar de superioridade e a frigidez sempre constantes nele? Não conseguia explicar mais nada, preso naquela montanha-russa da qual não conseguia descer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6001988320892782401?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6001988320892782401/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6001988320892782401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6001988320892782401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6001988320892782401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/verao-parte-ii.html' title='Verão, parte II.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2469243631229836791</id><published>2010-06-24T17:29:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T18:08:46.484-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Verão, parte I.</title><content type='html'>As palavras dele ainda ecoavam em sua mente. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Como se nunca tivesse acontecido...&lt;/span&gt; Passara noites e dias tentando entender o que acontecera, tentando obrigar-se a obedecer aquelas palavras. Mas por algum motivo, não conseguia. Pior ainda: alimentava, sem sequer saber por que, uma certa esperança dentro de si. Uma certa alegria boba e ingênua por ao menos ter tido a chance de ter aqueles momentos, por mais breves que houvessem sido. Sabia o quão tola era aquela atitude, até porque, não falara com ele desde aquele dia. Talvez ela o estivesse evitando, talvez ele a estivesse evitando. Temia que isso nunca acabasse. Tentava pensar em como lidaria com a perda de seu melhor amigo, ignorando completamente que ele deixara de ser isso no exato momento em que a fez sentir a primeira corrente de calor que passou por todo seu corpo antes do primeiro beijo que trocaram naquela tarde ensolarada no meio da rua.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2469243631229836791?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2469243631229836791/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2469243631229836791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2469243631229836791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2469243631229836791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/verao.html' title='Verão, parte I.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5010566682514309082</id><published>2010-06-23T16:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T19:52:36.547-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Jogo de perguntas.</title><content type='html'>- Se pudesse estar em qualquer outro lugar, onde estaria?&lt;br /&gt;- Bem aqui, mas com alguém que escolhesse estar bem aqui também.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5010566682514309082?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5010566682514309082/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5010566682514309082&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5010566682514309082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5010566682514309082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/conversa-que-tive-uma-vez.html' title='Jogo de perguntas.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-7419381625167237389</id><published>2010-06-22T21:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T22:23:37.854-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quinteto violinista.</title><content type='html'>A cada toque, cada beijo, aumentava a sensação de estar nas nuvens. Era como se estivesse subindo andares em um elevador invisível, como se a gravidade já não existisse. Se pudesse, faria com que aquele momento jamais acabasse ou que, caso isso acontecesse, que fosse para algo melhor começar. Mas parecia impossível. Haveria algo melhor que aquilo? Algo melhor do que aquilo que ela agora sentia?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-7419381625167237389?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/7419381625167237389/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=7419381625167237389&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7419381625167237389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7419381625167237389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/quinteto-violinista.html' title='Quinteto violinista.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-7270433178865910223</id><published>2010-06-20T22:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T22:26:04.145-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I'm afraid to let other people even barely touch me, because the only one I want feeling my skin and making me safe is you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-7270433178865910223?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/7270433178865910223/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=7270433178865910223&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7270433178865910223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/7270433178865910223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/sometimes-im-afraid-to-let-other-people.html' title=''/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5457788945058457828</id><published>2010-06-18T21:03:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T21:07:06.877-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Décimos de sentimento.</title><content type='html'>Vou virar palavra&lt;br /&gt;e me esconder&lt;br /&gt;entre parênteses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serei errada e ignorada&lt;br /&gt;mas feliz,&lt;br /&gt;na maioria das vezes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5457788945058457828?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5457788945058457828/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5457788945058457828&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5457788945058457828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5457788945058457828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/decimos-de-sentimento.html' title='Décimos de sentimento.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6692251214678459415</id><published>2010-06-16T20:03:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T22:33:48.959-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Lápide comemorativa.</title><content type='html'>Era, como qualquer outro, um jardim. Neste, os bancos, cujas tintas haviam fugido deixando-os desgastados, eram vazios. As flores, todas cinzas. A única cor naquela tristeza, além do verde apagado dos arbustos mal-cuidados, vinha de uma toalha de mesa vermelha no meio da grama alta, sobre a qual dois amantes namoravam através de uma cesta de piquenique. Contrariando qualquer romantismo, não afetavam a natureza ao redor. O contrário também era verdadeiro: o casal sorria. Nenhuma alma viva ousava aproximação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como qualquer outro, era um jardim. Perdera toda sua vida há algum tempo, ou bastante... já não lembrava. Tornara-se vazio, adormecera. O único som era o do vento, que teimava em derrubar folhas secas e arrastá-las para acabar com o tédio. De vez em quando, gargalhadas com sabor de vinho ecoavam pelas árvores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O par olhava para o pequeno lago no qual haviam se afogado anos antes. Agora o assombravam, bebendo e festejando a morte por toda a eternidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6692251214678459415?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6692251214678459415/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6692251214678459415&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6692251214678459415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6692251214678459415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/lapide-comemorativa.html' title='Lápide comemorativa.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4613893771558025947</id><published>2010-06-15T18:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T18:57:57.099-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Juntos, num lugar imaginado.</title><content type='html'>- Seu coração é um quarto escuro e eu não tô conseguindo acender a luz. Começo a achar que não tem interruptor nenhum. Isso quando a porta não está trancada.&lt;br /&gt;- Eu tô tentando.&lt;br /&gt;- Tente mais. Tente como eu estou tentando. Do que você tem tanto medo?&lt;br /&gt;- Não sei. É que ninguém nunca se importou tanto. Não sei como reagir ou como corresponder tudo isso.&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deram-se as mãos&lt;br /&gt;um abraço silencioso de olhares&lt;br /&gt;e foram embora.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4613893771558025947?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4613893771558025947/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4613893771558025947&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4613893771558025947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4613893771558025947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/juntos-num-lugar-imaginado.html' title='Juntos, num lugar imaginado.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-9201791567050046915</id><published>2010-06-12T01:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T01:03:58.744-03:00</updated><title type='text'>01011001 01101111 01110101.</title><content type='html'>I love you.&lt;br /&gt;I'm the happiest person alive&lt;br /&gt;just because you're mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silly, but true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-9201791567050046915?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/9201791567050046915/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=9201791567050046915&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9201791567050046915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/9201791567050046915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/01011001-01101111-01110101.html' title='01011001 01101111 01110101.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-166480634372055248</id><published>2010-06-08T19:18:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T19:21:07.170-03:00</updated><title type='text'>"Esse é para você lembrar."</title><content type='html'>Que nosso amor muda mas amadurece,&lt;br /&gt;que nosso amor muda mas continua,&lt;br /&gt;que nosso amor muda mas cresce,&lt;br /&gt;que nosso amor ainda é mais lindo que a lua.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-166480634372055248?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/166480634372055248/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=166480634372055248&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/166480634372055248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/166480634372055248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/esse-e-para-voce-lembrar.html' title='&quot;Esse é para você lembrar.&quot;'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-2619289677570220916</id><published>2010-06-06T20:15:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T20:18:19.517-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Geography.</title><content type='html'>As a child I used to think that if I read all the books in the world and knew every single thing in it, I would own it and be able to change anything I wanted. I thought that if I ever managed to fully understand everything inside it, that maybe I would be able to fix things and make it all beautiful and complete.&lt;br /&gt;I know this ain't possible, now that I'm older. There's no way of reading all the books in Earth or having such a huge knowledge, with no breaches. No one owns the world, it owns itself. It allows us to be here, to exist, to be. But that doesn't really matter. What does is that you don't need that kind of control to change something, to fix what has to be fixed. If you try, and that's the very least the world asks of you, to understand and to be a better person, then that's enough. You have to open your eyes and see the world not as you want to see it, but as it is. As it could be. As it could be if you helped, if you tried.&lt;br /&gt;I want to understand the world. Not everything inside it, no. How it works, how people make it work, how everything lives together here. Or die, that too. It's all so beautiful already, there's nothing to really complete. Just observe and admire. For we are all part of it. We will always be. And all we have to do is try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-2619289677570220916?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/2619289677570220916/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=2619289677570220916&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2619289677570220916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/2619289677570220916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/geography.html' title='Geography.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5178610165272025780</id><published>2010-06-04T22:18:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T22:24:06.720-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Rufous-bellied Thrush.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I saved a bird,&lt;br /&gt;it was so scared, the poor little thing.&lt;br /&gt;Afraid to fly,&lt;br /&gt;thoughts of broken wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I held him&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but think:&lt;br /&gt;that small fragile creature&lt;br /&gt;was just like me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5178610165272025780?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5178610165272025780/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5178610165272025780&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5178610165272025780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5178610165272025780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/rufous-bellied-thrush.html' title='Rufous-bellied Thrush.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5588123995670641590</id><published>2010-06-01T17:46:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T17:49:39.458-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fogo.</title><content type='html'>"Segundo o Michaelis,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fo.go&lt;br /&gt;(ô), s. m. 1. Toda combustão acompanhada de desenvolvimento de luz, calor e, geralmente, de chamas. 2. Labareda. 3. Fogueira, lume. 4. Incêndio. 5. Fogão, lareira. 6. Residência de uma família. 7. Ardor, energia, vivacidade. 8. Excitação. 9. Disparos de arma de fogo; fuzilaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não que o dicionário esteja errado, mas eu discordo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, vou dizer um grande "dane-se!" para a Química, a Física e provavelmente à Biologia também. Mas sabe, acho que se a gente acreditar em todas as explicações que as ciências dão, a vida perde a graça. E todas as suas infinitas metáforas se vão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra mim fogo é sentimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes acontece de você estar tão tão cheio de um ou mais sentimentos que parece que você vai explodir. Ou te dá vontade de fazer isso. Não é? Acho que ele viaja até onde ele possa sair, e deixa de ser fogo invisível para se metamorfosear em chamas dançantes e quentes - que podem até machucar quem chegar muito perto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já viu como o fogo baila? Outrossim a raiva, a alegria, o sofrer, a emoção, o ciúmes, o amor... Dançam tanto que às vezes ficamos tontos, dançam tanto que às vezes ficamos eufóricos. Pode ser uma dança bonita, coordenada. E o oposto bagunçado e complicado também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existe tanto!, mas tanto! sentimento dentro das coisas vivas, que ele extravasa e vira calor. Acho que é a forma que ele tem de se mostrar pra gente. Não que ele precise, mas ele sabe que às vezes tentamos esquecê-lo ou ignorá-lo. No fundo, nunca dá. Mas ficar escondidinho não o satisfaz... precisa se gabar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu fogo, você fogo, nós fogo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Combustão de sentimento(s). 3. Fogueira de emoções. 4. Incêndio de paixão. 5. Só se o fogão for o coração, pra gerar emoção. 6. E o amor não é (ou deveria ser) o lar de uma família? 7. Ardor, energia, vivacidade... não podem ser todos efeitos e sintomas dos sentimentos? 8. Idem? 9. É, eu acho que o coração pode muito bem ser uma arma, e nos outros disparar suas balas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...) Agora você tem mais de uma versão: a "oficial" e uma que não passa de mera - mas pensada (com cabeça e principalmente coração) e muito sincera - opinião. Mas não sei, vai que o fogo, e tudo mais nessa história, não passa de uma ilusão?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. Já sentiu fogo dentro de você? Já sentiu fogo entre você e alguém? Não é lindo?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5588123995670641590?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5588123995670641590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5588123995670641590&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5588123995670641590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5588123995670641590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/06/fogo.html' title='Fogo.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-857351129983490202</id><published>2010-05-31T16:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T16:56:39.961-03:00</updated><title type='text'>No envelope.</title><content type='html'>"Não sei que tipo de resposta você queria, mas sinceridade nunca é em vão. Quando a gente não consegue falar, a gente joga os pensamentos pra mão.&lt;br /&gt;Eu preferiria que você lesse sozinha e que as palavras fossem só suas, mas exatamente por serem agora suas que você pode compartilhá-las com quem quiser, se assim quiser."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É tão difícil de acreditar que eu escrevi isso um dia.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei porque, mas é.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-857351129983490202?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/857351129983490202/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=857351129983490202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/857351129983490202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/857351129983490202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/no-envelope.html' title='No envelope.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6726630023260996833</id><published>2010-05-29T21:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T22:00:19.374-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Anotações.</title><content type='html'>Não é questão de inteligência,&lt;br /&gt;ou de sensatez,&lt;br /&gt;ou qualquer outra coisa do tipo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É ter alma,&lt;br /&gt;se jogar nas profundezas,&lt;br /&gt;brincar de sentimentos,&lt;br /&gt;se encontrar na imensidão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6726630023260996833?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6726630023260996833/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6726630023260996833&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6726630023260996833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6726630023260996833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/anotacoes.html' title='Anotações.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-5349874077252705801</id><published>2010-05-28T18:18:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T18:35:01.648-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, love.</title><content type='html'>So what if love is this little thing always playing tricks on us?&lt;br /&gt;You don't choose who you love, who you'll love when you're already loving someone else or why you will choose falling out of love with someone.&lt;br /&gt;It gets tricky because when it comes to love, you're not caught up only in your own confusion, but in other people's too.&lt;br /&gt;So this mess grows to something huge until it makes you unable to solve anything.&lt;br /&gt;Wait, solve? Is love a problem?&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe, for some people.&lt;br /&gt;For others, it's the answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-5349874077252705801?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/5349874077252705801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=5349874077252705801&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5349874077252705801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/5349874077252705801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/oh-love.html' title='Oh, love.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-8139803811451987005</id><published>2010-05-26T19:59:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T20:00:55.945-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lua cheia.</title><content type='html'>É sempre &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;um dos dois&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;ou você deixa sua marca no mundo,&lt;br /&gt;ou ele deixa (em) você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-8139803811451987005?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/8139803811451987005/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=8139803811451987005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8139803811451987005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/8139803811451987005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/lua-cheia.html' title='Lua cheia.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-175484828130115154</id><published>2010-05-25T17:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T17:35:53.576-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Se seu amor fosse um lugar.</title><content type='html'>Eu seria freqüentadora assídua e iria querer sempre mais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-175484828130115154?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/175484828130115154/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=175484828130115154&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/175484828130115154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/175484828130115154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/se-seu-amor-fosse-um-lugar_25.html' title='Se seu amor fosse um lugar.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4911606171857040773</id><published>2010-05-24T15:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T15:52:10.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pradarias.</title><content type='html'>Ela gritou o máximo que podia&lt;br /&gt;Mas ninguém veio&lt;br /&gt;ninguém vinha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém viria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Talvez, só talvez,&lt;br /&gt;ninguém conseguisse ouvir&lt;br /&gt;de tão profundo,&lt;br /&gt;de tão dentro dela!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4911606171857040773?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4911606171857040773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4911606171857040773&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4911606171857040773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4911606171857040773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/pradarias.html' title='Pradarias.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4324580253927599384</id><published>2010-05-24T15:44:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T15:45:48.186-03:00</updated><title type='text'>For a little bit.</title><content type='html'>Would you be happier without me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4324580253927599384?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4324580253927599384/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4324580253927599384&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4324580253927599384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4324580253927599384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/for-little-bit.html' title='For a little bit.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3992812004302740716</id><published>2010-05-22T22:18:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T22:40:20.337-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Flashes.</title><content type='html'>Eu sei em que você quer que eu acredite. Mais uma mentira.&lt;br /&gt;Mas esta não é uma daquelas coisas que você pode controlar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que você me amava também, porque eu sentia.&lt;br /&gt;Você não quer que eu saiba, mas eu sei. Que azar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3992812004302740716?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3992812004302740716/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3992812004302740716&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3992812004302740716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3992812004302740716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/flashes_22.html' title='Flashes.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6654895178040730809</id><published>2010-05-18T18:24:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T18:43:14.390-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Toma mi mano.</title><content type='html'>Y si todo termina ahora,&lt;br /&gt;esta a quien has querido,&lt;br /&gt;de algun modo,&lt;br /&gt;está aqui contigo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6654895178040730809?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6654895178040730809/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6654895178040730809&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6654895178040730809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6654895178040730809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/toma-mi-mano.html' title='Toma mi mano.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-4355402896778506084</id><published>2010-05-12T22:07:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T22:26:18.404-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Azul e tempero.</title><content type='html'>Não precisa se preocupar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como eu dei meu coração pra você,&lt;br /&gt;não sobrou mais nada&lt;br /&gt;pra dar pra qualquer outro alguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(E eu nem iria querer.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É só você.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-4355402896778506084?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/4355402896778506084/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=4355402896778506084&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4355402896778506084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/4355402896778506084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/azul-e-tempero.html' title='Azul e tempero.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-6860129237089944468</id><published>2010-05-12T19:39:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T19:45:43.392-03:00</updated><title type='text'>More.</title><content type='html'>- We're having another fight. And I'm the only one speaking. You always do that! That stupid letting-me-be-the only-one-blowing-words-to-the-wind thing. You need to tell me how you feel, I can't always guess!&lt;br /&gt;- I'm trying to, but there are things I can't say.&lt;br /&gt;- Why not?&lt;br /&gt;- I don't know, I just don't want to talk about them!&lt;br /&gt;- Ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Well?&lt;br /&gt;- This is going nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;- Then tell me what the fuck do you want?!&lt;br /&gt;- I want you to never regret choosing me over other things you wanted! Shit, is that too hard to understand? I want that, in the future, if we're not together anymore and it's been years and years since we've been together, that you look back and say to yourself &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"damn, I never loved anyone more than I loved her"&lt;/span&gt;. I want you to feel that way &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt;. I want you to tell me that you feel that way now. That you never loved anyone as much as you love me. Because I never got even close to feeling for somebody else what I feel for you. And right now it honestly feels like I never will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-6860129237089944468?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/6860129237089944468/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=6860129237089944468&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6860129237089944468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/6860129237089944468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/more.html' title='More.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6870632460857528814.post-3704351630996568200</id><published>2010-05-11T22:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T22:25:27.431-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Galardão.</title><content type='html'>Ai, como eu queria você aqui, amor.&lt;br /&gt;Pra te abraçar e apertar e beijar,&lt;br /&gt;roubar um pouco do teu calor,&lt;br /&gt;meu prêmio por te esperar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6870632460857528814-3704351630996568200?l=stayfortea.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/feeds/3704351630996568200/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6870632460857528814&amp;postID=3704351630996568200&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3704351630996568200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6870632460857528814/posts/default/3704351630996568200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stayfortea.blogspot.com/2010/05/galardao.html' title='Galardão.'/><author><name>Gabi</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JvFVyliI07c/SpBXBL2exLI/AAAAAAAAANI/AnydkpqhPgc/S220/DSC00623b+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
