<?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-8380144524334296610</id><updated>2012-01-23T22:05:07.124Z</updated><category term='portuguese'/><category term='Tu'/><category term='dreaming disappointing'/><category term='singing'/><category term='pensamentos'/><category term='Stupid Thoughts'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='apart'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Vila Real'/><category term='deputados'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='Razão'/><category term='desilusões'/><category term='injustiça'/><category term='farewells'/><category term='felicidade'/><category term='Escrita'/><category term='(un)expected things'/><category term='amor'/><category term='pizza'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='Hopes'/><category term='=)'/><category term='expectations'/><category term='rain'/><category term='Night'/><category term='running'/><category term='World'/><category term='chuva'/><category term='too much'/><category term='Contagiarte'/><category term='ilusões'/><category term='Viagem'/><category term='weird'/><category term='inverno'/><category term='Smoke'/><category term='mentiras'/><category term='love'/><category term='Imaginação'/><title type='text'>(just) Written Words</title><subtitle type='html'>"Estou hoje perplexo, como quem pensou e achou e esqueceu. E vou escrever esta história para provar que sou sublime."

Álvaro de Campos</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-63787206151560073</id><published>2012-01-20T22:02:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-01-23T22:05:07.133Z</updated><title type='text'>Untitled (qualquer coisa)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Andei à tua &lt;b&gt;procura&lt;/b&gt;. Ou na verdade talvez não. Sei que procurava alguma coisa. Talvez fosse a mim mesma. Lá está a insensatez a vir ao de cima, por favor, perdoa-me os meus &lt;b&gt;devaneios&lt;/b&gt;. Melhor ainda, aceita-os simplesmente como parte intrínseca de mim, este ser que mal conheces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Não tens perguntas para mim, sobre mim. Talvez sejas tu o iludido ao convenceres-te que sabes tudo ou talvez seja eu ao achar que poderia haver algo que pudesses querer saber. Se eu mesma soubesse…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Devaneios, sempre a sugar-me o tempo e a alma e a alegria e tudo o que acabam por me dar na sua ilusão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;No entretanto, &lt;b&gt;encontrei-te&lt;/b&gt; efectivamente, assim como que por acaso, no sítio onde te tinha deixado e não te tinha lembrado. Não sei porquê mas nunca me lembrei, não de ti e não sei por que razão. Prefiro não pensar nisso a recordar a forma como me lembrei de alguns, na minha inocência desamparada, que nem inocência era mas sim estupidez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Agora estás aqui mas tão depressa como &lt;b&gt;chegas&lt;/b&gt; te &lt;b&gt;vais&lt;/b&gt; e eu fico com o lugar e sem a pessoa, como um frasco de perfume que, apesar de vazio, ainda permite sentir o aroma e as recordações ao mesmo associado. &lt;b&gt;Metáforas&lt;/b&gt;… Forma hábil e ao mesmo tempo tão estúpida de não dizer as coisas directamente quando se tem medo que as mesmas, ao serem ditas ou postas em papel, se tornem &lt;b&gt;reais&lt;/b&gt; por serem obviamente visíveis e audíveis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;És assim e foi assim que me habituaste, tanto dás como tiras mesmo ao nunca me teres dado nada. &lt;b&gt;Curiosidade&lt;/b&gt;, eterna busca é isso, talvez, que faz com que te procure e fique na dúvida permanente  de se, caso algum dia verdadeiramente te encontre, serás aquilo que queria ou imaginava ou supunha ou temia. E faz com que me pergunte se a &lt;b&gt;busca&lt;/b&gt; em si não será infundada e sem propósito, se saberei realmente o que quero encontrar e se no fim desse caminho estás tu. E se o &lt;b&gt;caminho&lt;/b&gt; que quero percorrer não será demasiado perigoso e se não serei a única disposta a percorrê-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Caminhos… Podem ser paralelos, opostos, apenas um ou findar sem aviso. E a minha indecisão falta de conhecimento e um &lt;b&gt;não-sei-quê mais que falta também&lt;/b&gt; não me deixa ver em qual dos caminhos estou para comigo mesma e onde, ao longo do caminho, tu te inseres. Sei que estás no caminho. E que te vou encontrando de uma maneira ou outra. Entretanto, tenho &lt;b&gt;optado por seguir&lt;/b&gt; e não parar para pensar, com medo que tenhas mudado de sítio. Um destes dias, o caminho vai chegar ao fim e, neste, gostava de te encontrar, no sítio &lt;b&gt;onde te deixei e um dia te lembrei&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-63787206151560073?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/63787206151560073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=63787206151560073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/63787206151560073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/63787206151560073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2012/01/untitled-qualquer-coisa.html' title='Untitled (qualquer coisa)'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6084395684212080608</id><published>2012-01-02T18:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-01-02T19:02:58.380Z</updated><title type='text'>Between Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/284/9/5/together_by_ronaaa-d30j9sr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 533px;" src="http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/284/9/5/together_by_ronaaa-d30j9sr.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is nothing between us&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Nothing to be found but so much to lose&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;There’s nothing to keep us together&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Yet there is also nothing to tear us apart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;So much to be shared&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;All those memories of the past&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Simple visions of strangers whose looks once crossed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;All the moments of the present&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;All the people around who have kept us together&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;All the hopes for a future that won’t see us part&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The ways that brought us together&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;There’s nothing between us&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Yet there is laughter and the tears&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The complicity and the dances&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The coffees and the cigarettes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The advices&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The certainties and doubts&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The things I have and have not felt&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;The words I will and won’t say&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Everything&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;There might come the day when there’s nothing around us&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;But there will always be a million things between us&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6084395684212080608?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6084395684212080608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6084395684212080608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6084395684212080608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6084395684212080608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2012/01/between-us.html' title='Between Us'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5898092229942916414</id><published>2011-06-21T23:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T23:56:07.039+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Who?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/158/5/c/doubt_by_soul_shades-d3ias7v.png" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Who?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;You wonder who to be and how to get there and you struggle everyday to find out who you are. You constantly try to hold on to any kind of prospect of realness and everything that seems real constantly crumbles around you, leaving you with no certainty whatsoever.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When you try to show yourself to people, you don’t really know who to show for you haven’t found yourself, not just yet. At these times, you wonder if showing yourself would change anything; no one seems to be really willing to listen or see.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;You know what you like, the few things you really want and what you can’t do without but to piece it all together to find your definition of self seems like an unavailable option at the moment. Your minds drives itself crazy in the attempt of making sense of it all and it reaches the point in which it all just seems too much.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;You go out, wander about, distract yourself but when, yet again, you find yourself alone, with no distractions, it all comes back to torment you once more.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHO AM I?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The total, essential, or particular being of a person; the individual;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The essential qualities distinguishing one person from another; individuality.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Find what these are and you’ll find yourself. It is not that easy to do so, however. Tracing a plane to get there won’t probably get you anywhere.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Live &lt;u&gt;your&lt;/u&gt; life the way &lt;u&gt;you&lt;/u&gt; think you’re supposed to live it, no one but you will suffer or cherish the results of your actions as much as you will. Living your life &lt;u&gt;through&lt;/u&gt; others will only leave you wondering, living your life &lt;u&gt;for&lt;/u&gt; others will only get you places where you don’t really want to be.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Listen to others, nonetheless. Not to make sense of things as if they always know better, not as if you couldn’t do it on your own but because life is also made of the people around you. And because they’ll always contribute to making you who you are but they are not you; they don’t feel how you feel, they don’t know what you know and they’re not the ones feeling like there’s something (you’re not quite sure what) missing, therefore, they’ll never truly understand it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There’ll always be something missing but as long as you know yourself, who you are, what you want, everything will be alright in the end as you’ll always be able to count on someone you know: you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;In this journey, that you have to make on your own you can always count on some people to listen and try to help and I’m one of them. Not because I know better but because I’ve been there and will keep on wondering about myself for many years probably. Not because I’ll be able to in fact do something palpable but because I’m able to listen. And sometimes, by talking as by writing, we find out things that, due to the fact we never thought of them before, we didn’t think we’d be able to find. As ourselves.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5898092229942916414?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5898092229942916414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5898092229942916414&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5898092229942916414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5898092229942916414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2011/06/who.html' title='Who?'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5552901142845252331</id><published>2011-05-18T21:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T21:33:56.338+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A rare smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.portwallpaper.com/imgwal/waiting-on-the-bench.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1440px; height: 900px;" src="http://www.portwallpaper.com/imgwal/waiting-on-the-bench.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;This is me, peaking behind the curtains&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;In a foolish hope to see you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Holding dear the thought that if you’re there&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;All that taunts me will vanish&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;That you, in all your unknown powers,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Will set me free of everything that I fear to leave behind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;It all comes back to haunt me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;In the midst of my dreams of you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;It comes and presents me the truth&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Even though you’re real you’re just in my imagination&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;And your rare smile fades with your honey-coloured hair in the Spring sun&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Many times I’ve wondered why it is so hard to come back&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;To leave all my make-believe possessions behind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;The friends I can’t be sure to be real&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;The people I look to in awe&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;And those I follow around in an unsuspicious manner&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;In all its vagueness it all seems so much safer&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Happier&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Ideal&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;The dream of a life I’ll never want to turn my back on&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;So I leave you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;With promises of a swift return&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;With wishes that I didn’t have to go &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;You’ll never be aware of the fact that&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;These tears are for you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I hold you dear without a cause&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I see what others don’t and grew fond of you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;For no apparent reason&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;As for no apparent reason I cry&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Hidden behind the curtains&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;For you’re not him&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I shouldn’t be peaking&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I’ll run as fast as I can to as far as I can, run from myself and to myself, to all those little pieces of me that I leave behind everywhere I go, in everyone I meet, in the people I smile to… I’ll run in my incompleteness and maybe one day I’ll find you again, waiting for me with all my pieces.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5552901142845252331?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5552901142845252331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5552901142845252331&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5552901142845252331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5552901142845252331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2011/05/rare-smile.html' title='A rare smile'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5829428940395595767</id><published>2011-01-06T20:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-01-06T20:52:19.082Z</updated><title type='text'>Little Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TSYrAnMOTGI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_uYkKhYPV4Y/s1600/simple_times____by_just_waiting_Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TSYrAnMOTGI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_uYkKhYPV4Y/s320/simple_times____by_just_waiting_Love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178079555701858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;It’s you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;It’s me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And the little things&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Yes, the little things&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And me, falling&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;It’s the fun&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;In the lies, that you tell&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And the alibis, that I weave&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;For you and your sanity&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Getting burnt was always my pleasure&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And you’re just like fire&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I follow you, wherever&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I chase you, around&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And hide whenever you seek me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;You’ll ask, I’ll take too long&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I answer and you don’t care, anymore&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Than you did before&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I’ll act, maybe stupidly&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;You’ll think, I’m foolish&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I’ll tell you the truth&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;When all you wanted was facts&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;All I’ve got are feelings&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;That’s never what you expected&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And never what I wanted to give&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Take me to the end&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Show me realities out of the dreams I’ve created&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Leave the questions you don’t want answers to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Behind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;In the bushes of the unknown&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Where I’ll lay all the weapons&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;And show you that what I want&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Was always so clear&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Ever so obvious&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;To everyone&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;To you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;To me&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;In the little things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;Image: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://just-waiting-love.deviantart.com/art/simple-times-60233530?q=boost:popular%20in:photography%20candlelight%20reading&amp;amp;qo=12"&gt;http://just-waiting-love.deviantart.com/art/simple-times-60233530?q=boost:popular%20in:photography%20candlelight%20reading&amp;amp;qo=12&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5829428940395595767?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5829428940395595767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5829428940395595767&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5829428940395595767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5829428940395595767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2011/01/little-things.html' title='Little Things'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TSYrAnMOTGI/AAAAAAAAAJU/_uYkKhYPV4Y/s72-c/simple_times____by_just_waiting_Love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6275754804037500752</id><published>2011-01-01T18:04:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-01-01T18:17:10.758Z</updated><title type='text'>What's change afterall?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TR9vPL4BusI/AAAAAAAAAJE/rlyee5Xnmws/s320/Change_by_gilad.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557282771874986690" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;“Everything in life is connected somehow. You may have to dig deep to find it but it’s there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Everything is the same even though it’s different. Somehow everything connects back with your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;The faces in certain places may be different, but the situation is the same. Irony is a hidden factor that creeps around us in life, letting its presence felt only after it has left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Picture back to a year ago and the situation you were in. Look at how things are different yet somehow everything is still in some way cognate. Everything connects together to form the balance of life, to maintain structure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Change is and always will be inevitable, but everything is relative, and all the moments and times in your life will come back around again, you just might find yourself on the other side of the coin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Things are always changing, as fast as everything stays the same.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TR9vcMpGIVI/AAAAAAAAAJM/URaB0N2M8Ec/s320/Italy_by_pommen.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557282995419095378" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6275754804037500752?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6275754804037500752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6275754804037500752&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6275754804037500752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6275754804037500752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2011/01/whats-change-afterall.html' title='What&apos;s change afterall?'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TR9vPL4BusI/AAAAAAAAAJE/rlyee5Xnmws/s72-c/Change_by_gilad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5392559210598318999</id><published>2010-12-24T19:13:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-24T19:13:11.199Z</updated><title type='text'>The certainty and the thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TRTwwlJWOzI/AAAAAAAAAIw/DzPJd11ZlrI/s1600-h/Run_away__I__ll_attack_by_LolaCraven%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="Run_away__I__ll_attack_by_LolaCraven" border="0" alt="Run_away__I__ll_attack_by_LolaCraven" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TRTwxVtIj-I/AAAAAAAAAI0/lCIou59sw4o/Run_away__I__ll_attack_by_LolaCraven_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="196" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It is as it ever was, hard but now getting just harder and harder not to face it and embrace it. I feel stupid everytime I deny something I know and others know to be true. It’s the feeling, the moments, the looks, the songs, the smiles, the stupid things, the moments I can’t think of anything else, the hopes that I shouldn’t have, the dreams that I shouldn’t dream, the wills that take power over me and make me and to do something, anything to have you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And I know that the most likely outcome isn’t favorable. I know that I’m probably not what you’re looking for. I wish I didn’t feel like this but just your sheer presence doesn’t make it any easier for me. And there’s nothing either you or I can do to change this. It’s just there and it’ll be there. The feeling, the will. To do something&amp;#160; I morally shouldn’t. To have you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Because you’re just so perfect to my standards without even knowing it, you just say all I could want to hear. It all fits perfectly with all that I wanted. It is so stupidly perfect that it is upsetting in its unreachability. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m running after something I might never have but I’m not running away.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“She’s so hard, I’m so hard”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font face="AR CENA"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Já lá vão dois anos que numa noite de Natal aborrecida criei este blog do alto do meu aborrecimento. Já muito se passou, eu já mudei muito mas a verdade é que no fundo ainda sou a mesma. E tudo o que senti, com mais ou menos melhorias, continua a surgir repetidamente como num círculo, mudando apenas as pessoas que entram no mesmo.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5392559210598318999?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5392559210598318999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5392559210598318999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5392559210598318999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5392559210598318999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/12/certainty-and-thought.html' title='The certainty and the thought'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TRTwxVtIj-I/AAAAAAAAAI0/lCIou59sw4o/s72-c/Run_away__I__ll_attack_by_LolaCraven_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-2688606221057198930</id><published>2010-12-01T15:23:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-01T15:23:11.640Z</updated><title type='text'>Never forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto; padding-top: 0px" border="0" src="http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Streaming%20Sunlight%20-2.jpg" width="529" height="401" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I will never be able to forget every moment spent with you, every word exchanged. In the back of my mind, there will always be the times I spent endless minutes watching you sleep, unaware of my attention, unaware&amp;#160; of everything.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And I surely know I shouldn’t care so much for you like I do, the care that makes me want to make everything easy for you. Above all I admire you, your strength that will always get you where you want to be. You have no idea what an amazing person you are, all your qualities pass you by but I can see them all. As well as your flaws. The truth is that all of these combined are what makes it so hard not to fall in love with you, it’s just so hard not to look at you with such admiration that makes one want to stare in awe. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;If you will ever know all of these things and the scary amount of others that I keep inside and don’t tell? I can’t say. Would I ever have your attention? Would you ever take a close look at what happens just in front of your eyes, take time to read all the subtle signs that are given away, see past the defenses that I have already confessed to have put up? Would you ever be able to differentiate the truth from the half truths that I tell?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But most of all, would you ever want to see?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;If this was always in the back of my mind, why couldn’t I ever tell?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-2688606221057198930?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2688606221057198930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=2688606221057198930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2688606221057198930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2688606221057198930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/12/never-forget.html' title='Never forget'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-1817377913246570180</id><published>2010-07-09T19:46:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T19:58:14.861+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Commotion</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TDdxFXIRqJI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2fcKeSY-58E/s1600/What_Is_Love___by_PARANOIA__7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TDdxFXIRqJI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2fcKeSY-58E/s320/What_Is_Love___by_PARANOIA__7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491982607523621010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surreal.&lt;br /&gt;Completely and utterly suffocating.&lt;br /&gt;Shocking despite any previous knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;Overwhelmingly surprising even if disturbingly foreseen.&lt;br /&gt;Sucking out of me any possible rational reaction.&lt;br /&gt;It scares the shit out of me&lt;br /&gt;                            even though it is one of my current dreams&lt;br /&gt;               and what I needed;&lt;br /&gt;   safety and turmoil&lt;br /&gt;                           thunderstorms&lt;br /&gt;                                                            soft breezes&lt;br /&gt;   A total lack of understanding in a surprisingly calm manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is me when you say &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;And everytime I softly and lovingly say it back to you... even if just in my mind&lt;/span&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/8380144524334296610-1817377913246570180?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1817377913246570180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=1817377913246570180&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1817377913246570180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1817377913246570180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/07/commotion.html' title='Commotion'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TDdxFXIRqJI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2fcKeSY-58E/s72-c/What_Is_Love___by_PARANOIA__7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6090852691780476279</id><published>2010-05-29T21:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T21:52:03.217+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Há noites...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TAF-Wzh1zrI/AAAAAAAAAIY/01ujuSXZqrk/s1600/Memories_of_the_past_by_WiciaQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TAF-Wzh1zrI/AAAAAAAAAIY/01ujuSXZqrk/s320/Memories_of_the_past_by_WiciaQ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476797552113602226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em que aquilo que mais queria era ter-te aqui para te poder dizer o quanto sinto a tua falta após míseras horas. Em que só desejo que este sentimento de que a tua presença nunca é completa desapareça e que a curiosidade morra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Se fosse possível mostrar-te tudo o que passa na minha cabeça e não o tivesse de transformar em palavras talvez compreendesses tudo o que te digo e aquilo que faço e parece não ter sentido)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há noites em que te sinto mais presente do que nunca, em que te escrevo como se contigo falasse, em que por mais que me distraia nunca sais do meu pensamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É nessas noites, todas as noites, que me pergunto de onde veio esta forma estranha, como todas as outras, de amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta é uma dessas noites.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6090852691780476279?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6090852691780476279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6090852691780476279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6090852691780476279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6090852691780476279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/05/ha-noites_29.html' title='Há noites...'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/TAF-Wzh1zrI/AAAAAAAAAIY/01ujuSXZqrk/s72-c/Memories_of_the_past_by_WiciaQ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-815229657068424260</id><published>2010-03-22T00:02:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-03-22T00:28:25.065Z</updated><title type='text'>Eu também consigo ser do mais cheesy possível...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://green-lemonade.deviantart.com/art/Kiss-Me-93663750"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/S6a5B_wHwpI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/G-BXWNLwRe8/s320/Kiss_Me_by_Green_Lemonade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451247842922840722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-me feliz. E sinto-me bem sentindo-me feliz, sem a tão conhecida sensação de "se calhar isto é demais para mim". Talvez pela primeira vez acredite no agora e não no futuro e talvez resida aí a diferença.&lt;br /&gt;Não sinto que tenha mudado, só me importo mais. Comigo, contigo, connosco e com todos. Não porque sinta necessidade mas porque realmente me interesso. Dizes-me que mudaste, que estás mais sensível, mais lamechas e fazes coisas que normalmente te meteriam nojo e eu pergunto-me se alguma vez estiveste apaixonado. Esta tua "surpresa" parece responder que não mas não é com o teu passado que estou preocupada.&lt;br /&gt;Gosto que fales no futuro, a brincar e a sério, enquanto eu me centro no presente. Gosto até quando o presente não é tão agradável porque no seu futuro breve as coisas parecem melhores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love looking into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And when in the morning you hold me tight&lt;br /&gt;Though we keep on having our fights&lt;br /&gt;Which will always keep us going&lt;br /&gt;Being able to feel your scent and saying I love you&lt;br /&gt;Is what really keeps me going&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the tast of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness," - Amy Lowell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The fights start it but it's the sweetness that keeps it going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-815229657068424260?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/815229657068424260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=815229657068424260&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/815229657068424260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/815229657068424260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/03/eu-tambem-consigo-ser-do-mais-cheesy.html' title='Eu também consigo ser do mais cheesy possível...'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/S6a5B_wHwpI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/G-BXWNLwRe8/s72-c/Kiss_Me_by_Green_Lemonade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6258658976299758050</id><published>2010-02-18T16:43:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-02-18T16:43:32.768Z</updated><title type='text'>This might come as a surprise…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/S31uMc_J_RI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2yi0BYxgu0E/s1600-h/PB050018%5B20%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="PB050018" border="0" alt="PB050018" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/S31uM353KgI/AAAAAAAAAIE/PDWK-69Y44M/PB050018_thumb%5B18%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="170" height="244" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Não sei porquê mas sinto uma grande necessidade de quebrar com os textos melancólicos, tipicamente em inglês, em que só sei falar de dúvidas e de pensamentos negativos. Talvez até saiba, julgo que chegou a altura de falar de certezas.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;A primeira certeza parece começar a ser acerca de quem sou. Acho que parei de me tentar encontrar finalmente. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Eu sou no fundo uma boa pessoa mas sim, digo aquilo que realmente penso das outras pessoas e como nem todas as pessoas são boas pessoas e nem todas as pessoas me podem agradar eu digo coisas más acerca de algumas delas. E tenho a certeza que também dizem mal de mim o que, sinceramente, já me afectou muito mais.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Eu tenho a certeza, pensando agora em retrospectiva, que sempre que quero mesmo muito alguma coisa não a tenho, que sempre que encaminho a minha vida num sentido acontece algo tão surreal que nem dá para acreditar e que estas coisas surreais, que parecem cenas tiradas de um filme, que eu normalmente diria que nunca na vida me aconteceriam a mim porque sou eu (uma pessoa que, apesar de se calhar por vezes passar a imagem exactamente contrária, se calhar não podia ser menos convencida) realmente acontecem.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Eu gosto de ver os meus planos alterados às vezes, gosto que pessoas entrem na minha vida apenas por segundos e me deixem memórias que vão durar pelo menos anos.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto que me desafiem, puxem por mim, mesmo quando é em relação a algo que me vai fazer sentir completamente ignorante.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto que simplifiquem a minha vida nos planos em que eu definitivamente a complico.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto que sorriam para mim porque me permite sorrir de volta.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto que me ouçam nas poucas vezes em que realmente tenho algo de importante a dizer e olhem para mim com uma expressão de compreensão no rosto.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto de saber que, apesar de nem sempre ser das pessoas mais afáveis ou acessíveis ou simpáticas, ainda há quem sinta a minha falta.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto de ser simpática e extremamente fofa e lamechas com as pessoas que sei que merecem e não vão gozar comigo por o fazer.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto de olhar para o céu e ver as estrelas, gosto quando olho para o céu e não as consigo ver porque estou bêbeda, gosto quando não as vejo porque estou de olhos fechados mas ainda assim sei que há estrelas.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto de olhar para o céu e ver o sol embora nem sempre suporte o calor ao mesmo associado, gosto quando está sol e a chover ao mesmo tempo, gosto mais do pôr-do-sol do que do nascer do mesmo, gosto quando está o céu enublado e mesmo assim se consegue ver nem que uma réstia de sol.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Gosto de música, cantar, dançar, escrever, rir, falar, conhecer sítios novos, conhecer pessoas novas, aprender coisas novas, fazer coisas que nunca na minha vida imaginei fazer e de tudo o resto que me deixa feliz.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;E mais do que tudo, algo que nunca tinha realmente sentido, gosto de ser eu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6258658976299758050?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6258658976299758050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6258658976299758050&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6258658976299758050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6258658976299758050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/02/this-might-come-as-surprise.html' title='This might come as a surprise…'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/S31uM353KgI/AAAAAAAAAIE/PDWK-69Y44M/s72-c/PB050018_thumb%5B18%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5002093320719588722</id><published>2010-02-15T15:09:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-02-15T15:22:24.828Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://highwaytoheavan.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/flower-field-scene.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 688px; height: 451px;" src="http://highwaytoheavan.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/flower-field-scene.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;Everything is never as it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one moment is never enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how some things turn out to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;We have a strange and wonderful relationship - he's  strange and I'm wonderful.&lt;/span&gt; - Mike Ditka&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.&lt;/span&gt; - Lord Byron&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;To love is to  suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers  from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to  suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy,  then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be  happy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much  happiness. - Woody Allen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5002093320719588722?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5002093320719588722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5002093320719588722&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5002093320719588722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5002093320719588722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2010/02/everything-is-never-as-it-seems.html' title=''/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6747659896680912222</id><published>2009-12-30T17:14:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-30T17:24:52.941Z</updated><title type='text'>Choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hengie.deviantart.com/art/Woods-of-Lacrymosa-42937853"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SzuLtLAP_FI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HgkRRvXmPhI/s320/Woods_of_Lacrymosa_by_hengie.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421080184634735698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never had anyone to take care of me. I never saw that as a problem, it was a way for me to show that I can handle my problems and be strong enough to always move forward without having someone holding me through. Yet, sometimes, being all by yourself gets lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I was taught to be like this, a person who plays it safe for fearing so much the possibility of getting hurt; it's what I've always seen, it was shown to me as the result of giving too much of yourself to someone. So I've grown to be this seemingly cold person, who has trouble showing emotion, who sees crying in public as an humiliation for her and who goes through a lot of internal struggle just to be able to give a meaningful hug to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how I got to be like this but I really wish I weren't this way. The thought of crying itself doesn't torment me, it was never a problem for me to cry and I do it often: when I hear someone sing so beautifully that it strikes something in me to cry, when I see something extremely beautiful or even when something is wrong with someone. I just don't seem to be able to cry for myself, as if it was the ultimate proof of weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always needed to be strong and able to fend for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days I've been trying to grow softer and to be able to trust people. I really wish there were people around me that I could trust with my life. I have people I can trust but none I feel I could totally depend on. It's not something easy to find and it is not something a lot of people would want. And if I ever were to say to someone "I trust you with my life" it would be easy to understand if that someone fled with the fear of such responsibility. Maybe I should act like the grown woman that I am and abandon these ideas just to get back to the time when taking care of myself all by myself was natural and the only choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the truth is that I've always said that I don't need a saviour because I can save myself but, from time to time, it'd be nice to have a choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6747659896680912222?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6747659896680912222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6747659896680912222&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6747659896680912222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6747659896680912222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/12/choice.html' title='Choice'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SzuLtLAP_FI/AAAAAAAAAH0/HgkRRvXmPhI/s72-c/Woods_of_Lacrymosa_by_hengie.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8965213276575806651</id><published>2009-11-29T23:31:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-29T23:31:29.722Z</updated><title type='text'>Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SxMETsIXMKI/AAAAAAAAAHs/bW65zbR8wu0/s1600-h/Waiting____by_louvre89%5B10%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Waiting____by_louvre89" border="0" alt="Waiting____by_louvre89" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SxMEUH6S0mI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qUvwwaRIqSs/Waiting____by_louvre89_thumb%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="221" height="361" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I’ve been waiting&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Patiently, maybe even foolishly&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For any signs of decision&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Any form of commitment&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;While you’ve been hiding&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Avoiding every hopeful glance&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Every affectionate gesture&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Every loving kiss&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I walk the streets&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Counting the stones as the days that have gone by&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’ve been counting on you for every first step&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Counting and recalling every restless night&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Every night spent waiting for us to be together&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Every minute spent, the early morning&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Deciding what to do, wondering if this is the right thing to do&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Getting the nerve to say those words&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The ones that live under my tongue&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;In the back of my mind&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The time has come for someone to step up&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;In a while it will be too late&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And your fear, your uncomfortable memories&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Have been keeping you from acting&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Or have I just dreamt of the glimpse of love you too feel?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Isn’t it real?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Fighting back any tear that might come&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I struggle and I too have been fearing&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I can’t bear the remote idea of losing you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When I don’t have you, you’re not mine&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I care, probably more than I should&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But isn’t it love, to foolishly and blindly care&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Without promises of anything in return?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I don’t want to lose you&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Give me some reassurance&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I need to believe&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Don’t go away&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Why can’t you believe?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Can’t we try?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thought every time I’m falling in love, a date can’t be defined (yes, it is actually almost always like this)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8965213276575806651?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8965213276575806651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8965213276575806651&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8965213276575806651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8965213276575806651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/11/fear.html' title='Fear'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SxMEUH6S0mI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qUvwwaRIqSs/s72-c/Waiting____by_louvre89_thumb%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-9211664336751389292</id><published>2009-11-16T21:53:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:53:42.014Z</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;a href="http://desirablenightmare.deviantart.com/art/55-Waiting-92738695"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px auto 5px; display: block; float: none; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="df8eabe45ef4a6b99c593a37b8780246" border="0" alt="df8eabe45ef4a6b99c593a37b8780246" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SwHJ4y_EZSI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FeSdqvGmphQ/df8eabe45ef4a6b99c593a37b8780246%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="160" height="351" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I’ve been watching days go by with the calmness of someone who has nothing more to do, nothing more that could make the change that’d be necessary.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The weather itself hasn’t been helping; this rain seems to carry sadness and I can’t help but to give in to some brief moments of slight and stupid depression, joining the rain with some tears.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There is only one thing that’s able to make me smile regardless of everything that may be around; you, the only exception. The reason why I’ve grown much softer and nicer lately, the reason why even when I get angry, into an argument or cry I still do it with some sort of a smile on my face. I couldn’t explain all that I feel even if I wanted to, I just know that I’m better now that I feel this way and I’m almost certain that this is the first time that falling in love has made me a better person and not just tad more stupid and mellow.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love you, in this sort of really calm and mature way, probably because I’ve always adored you this is just a combination of it and the typical romantic infatuation at the age of 20. And I believe it is more than clear that I want you. Therefore I’ve been missing you lately. I miss those moments for which I’d wait hours, when there’s no one around. I miss being able to look into your eyes and feeling embarrassed because I feel you can see how fragile and happy I feel. I miss it all. And I wish all of this didn’t scare you and hope that you know that all these feelings do not influence my decisions and I sincerely wish that they’ll never influence yours in a negative way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Meanwhile, I’ll keep on hearing the raindrops and missing you, waiting…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“&lt;em&gt;And up until now I had sworn to myself that I was content with loneliness, because none of it was ever worth the risk, but you, are, the only exception.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I’ve got a tight grip on reality but I can’t let go of what's in front of me here I know your leaving in the morning, when you wake up, leave me with some proof it’s not a dream&lt;/em&gt;”&amp;#160; &lt;strong&gt;The Only Exception (Paramore)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-9211664336751389292?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9211664336751389292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=9211664336751389292&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/9211664336751389292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/9211664336751389292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-miss-you.html' title='I Miss You'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SwHJ4y_EZSI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FeSdqvGmphQ/s72-c/df8eabe45ef4a6b99c593a37b8780246%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3230943910131143769</id><published>2009-11-07T21:32:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-07T21:34:26.207Z</updated><title type='text'>A Moment to Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SvXns52SVEI/AAAAAAAAAHg/N5MpsRywmiw/s1600-h/Dreams_through_glass_by_Zindy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; 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	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-right:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0cm; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;A magic moment I remember:&lt;br /&gt;I raised my eyes and you were there.&lt;br /&gt;A fleeting vision, the quintessence&lt;br /&gt;Of all that's beautiful and rare. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;I pray to mute despair and anguish&lt;br /&gt;To vain pursuits the world esteems,&lt;br /&gt;Long did I near your soothing accents,&lt;br /&gt;Long did your features haunt my dreams. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;Time passed- A rebel storm-blast scattered&lt;br /&gt;The reveries that once were mine&lt;br /&gt;And I forgot your soothing accents,&lt;br /&gt;Your features gracefully divine. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;In dark days of enforced retirement&lt;br /&gt;I gazed upon grey skies above&lt;br /&gt;With no ideals to inspire me,&lt;br /&gt;No one to cry for, live for, love. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then came a moment of renaissance,&lt;br /&gt;I looked up- you again are there,&lt;br /&gt;A fleeting vision, the quintessence&lt;br /&gt;Of all that`s beautiful and rare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alexander Pushkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"   lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-3230943910131143769?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3230943910131143769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3230943910131143769&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3230943910131143769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3230943910131143769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/11/moment-to-remember.html' title='A Moment to Remember'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SvXns52SVEI/AAAAAAAAAHg/N5MpsRywmiw/s72-c/Dreams_through_glass_by_Zindy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-1515188315456277574</id><published>2009-10-16T21:02:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T21:16:25.269+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.androidblues.com/gallery/jealousy8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 592px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.androidblues.com/gallery/jealousy8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll admit to it, as I always do with my faults and less pleasant qualities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am jealous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I am not sorry for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why can't certain things come as easy for me as they do to others?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sick and tired of being oh so perfect but never good enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't keep on having low expectations just because that's the best way of not getting disappointed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything seems to be falling into place except for me and I am trying my best and I don't know how to do better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the end, I am alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Jealousy live upon doubts. It becomes madness or ceases entirely as soon as we pass from doubt to certainty." François de la Rochefoucauld&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Jealousy is a tiger that tears not only its prey but also its own raging heart."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-1515188315456277574?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1515188315456277574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=1515188315456277574&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1515188315456277574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1515188315456277574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/10/confession.html' title='Confession'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5072641514522458457</id><published>2009-10-16T03:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T03:02:52.260+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Emptiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;I don’t know&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;how to feel&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;anything but&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Confusion&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;right now&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;You can never tell what’s real from what’s not&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;You can never know what’s there&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;until you miss it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;You’ll never see&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;if you don’t want to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;You’ll never realise the truth&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;if you don’t really want to know it&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;The first step to knowledge is admitting the existence of something&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;Or the possibility that anything can happen&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;And everything is just a big bunch of haze right now&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;Where did Reason go?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” &lt;/span&gt;Ernest Hemingway&lt;span lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5072641514522458457?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5072641514522458457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5072641514522458457&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5072641514522458457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5072641514522458457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/10/emptiness.html' title='Emptiness'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5417085216586461214</id><published>2009-10-06T21:31:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T21:46:30.197+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não compreendo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SsuskLCADkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/RqtUvw71GYM/s1600-h/21092009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SsuskLCADkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/RqtUvw71GYM/s320/21092009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389591116515380802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coisas que não entendo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;O porquê de as pessoas complicarem tanto tudo (eu até há bem pouco tempo achava-me complicada mas vejo tanto drama à minha volta que assusta)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Anime&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Manga&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Consolas XPTO&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jogos XPTO para as consolas XPTO&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O facto de andar a chover a potes e mesmo de guarda-chuva ficar encharcada. Há uma semana andava a morrer de calor trajada quase todos os santos dias&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Greves de autocarros&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Filas nos postos da STCP&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ter o telemóvel lento com apenas 1300 sms na caixa de entrada&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Falsa moral e falta de escrúpulos&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A "pele de galinha" com que fico quando tenho conversas sobre o mundo "sobrenatural"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O facto de ainda me custar cumprir o limite de faltas às cadeiras da faculdade quando já vou no 3º ano disto&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Como é que algumas pessoas gostam e se importam tanto comigo&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A mania de me gravar a cantar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O facto de agora parecer que não consigo pegar num livro para ler&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A falta de vontade para cozinhar só para mim&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ser Outubro e já haver anúncios, montras, panfletos de Natal&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lutas e discussões devido a "regionalismos"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O meu vício por café&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O meu vício por queijo xD&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O meu vício (vá, mais ou menos) por tabaco&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O meu gosto por alcool&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O resto dos meus vícios e gostos&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Os Serviços de Acção Social da Universidade do Porto&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;O preço dos livros para a faculdade&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mau humor devido à chuva....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;...........................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;E vamos parar por aqui porque a lista seria infinita quase.... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5417085216586461214?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5417085216586461214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5417085216586461214&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5417085216586461214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5417085216586461214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/10/nao-compreendo.html' title='Não compreendo'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SsuskLCADkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/RqtUvw71GYM/s72-c/21092009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5193971328990529540</id><published>2009-10-03T17:33:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T17:46:54.889+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn</title><content type='html'>When a woman tells the truth she is creating the possibility for more truth around her. - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Adrienne Rich&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never apologize for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;showing feeling&lt;/span&gt;. When you do so, you apologize for the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truth&lt;/span&gt;. - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Benjamin Disraeli&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We know the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truth&lt;/span&gt;, not only &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;by the reason&lt;/span&gt;, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;by the heart&lt;/span&gt;. - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blaise Pascal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fear grows in darkness&lt;/span&gt;; if you think there's a bogeyman around, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;turn on the light&lt;/span&gt;. - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dorothy Thompson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Ssd_yObA3yI/AAAAAAAAAHI/7FtiaACw9jc/s1600-h/276578-11-autumn-colors-in-the-forest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Ssd_yObA3yI/AAAAAAAAAHI/7FtiaACw9jc/s320/276578-11-autumn-colors-in-the-forest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388415980013674274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Everything's changing and I'm yet to know how everything will turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I don't really want to know the future of everything that's starting, of all the things that are evolving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can just hope every change will be positive and good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maturing is the word, hope is the thought and happiness is the wanted feeling&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="title"&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/8380144524334296610-5193971328990529540?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5193971328990529540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5193971328990529540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5193971328990529540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5193971328990529540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/10/autumn.html' title='Autumn'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Ssd_yObA3yI/AAAAAAAAAHI/7FtiaACw9jc/s72-c/276578-11-autumn-colors-in-the-forest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-9034659395579101570</id><published>2009-09-19T19:24:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T19:59:02.083+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Certezas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;E quando não temos bem a certeza do que iremos fazer, olhamos para o passado, relembramos os nossos sonhos e mantemos a esperança.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Porque se eu por vezes duvido, há quem tenha toda a certeza.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SrUppVwlM4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/poT4j0oF4bs/s1600-h/05052009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SrUppVwlM4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/poT4j0oF4bs/s320/05052009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383254719783580546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;William Shakespeare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts: but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sr. Francis Bacon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="padding-top: 3px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The key to change... is to let go of fear.&lt;/span&gt; Rosanne Cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="padding-top: 3px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fear of failure must never be a reason not to try something&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Frederick Smith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wisdom is knowing what to do next; Skill is knowing how ot do it, and Virtue is doing it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;David Starr Jordan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One's first step in wisdom is to question everything - and one's last is to come to terms with everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Georg C. Lichtenberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;No question is so difficult to answer as that to which the answer is obvious.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;George Bernard Shaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Men are respectable only as they respect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-9034659395579101570?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9034659395579101570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=9034659395579101570&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/9034659395579101570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/9034659395579101570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/09/certezas.html' title='Certezas'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SrUppVwlM4I/AAAAAAAAAHA/poT4j0oF4bs/s72-c/05052009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8495855952482594700</id><published>2009-09-13T12:39:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T13:23:16.453+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Anger Management vs I don't give a F***</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;(I hereby apologize for the possible amount of curse words that will follow)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:130%;" &gt;Cheers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; to every conniving and self-centered son of a bitch in the world! Your best representative has just showed some work!&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqzjsfvwPzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/bFUzJKlphHI/s1600-h/piss-off.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqzjsfvwPzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/bFUzJKlphHI/s320/piss-off.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380926008376442674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Because after 17 years of knowing someone I am now allegedly in love with that person &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I am not, he's not even my type) &lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I asked his best friend to help me so that he wouldn't get back together with his girlfriend &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;(this bestfriend of his is actually the only one of the people I'll mention that I've actually been in love with, a long time ago - and I didn't even know the couple wasn't together; hope eveything's ok)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;(oh, and I haven't talked to this "bestfriend" in two months as he refused to talk to me).&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least now I know that the "friends" that stopped talking to me had as reason to do so the fact I made up so many "lies" that they got sick of me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The only person I lied to amongst them was my ex-boyfriend when I said I loved him and I'm actually sorry for that).&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And apparently I'm what you'd translate as "a fucking snobbish stuck-up"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this is the only part I won't discuss, opinions are personal - and yes, I know snob and stuck-up are pretty much the same but I really must emphasize).&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But facts are not personal.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could blame me of covering up and being involved in the shit they made.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You could blame me of having been involved with two guys of the group, though at different times, being the most shameful thing the fact that one of them wasn't exactly what you'd call available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is I'm human, I make mistakes and I can't control my heart nor sometimes my libido.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But not of what you've accused me.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, all of you be happy, marry, have children... And just leave me the fuck alone because I'm tired of your shit and all the lies and the fact that you always find someone to blame. I do not need you, I'll miss the ones who I thought were the "bigger people" but I just don't need this.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;And when it concerns guys and me being interested in any of you, I've moved on... A long time ago.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to you, always the mastermind, if you ever read this let me tell you that I now laugh just thinking of the day you told me you wanted to be a better person. Worse than me trying to be a bad girl was you posing as a good guy. I hope you lie your way to happiness as you've been doing all your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;P.S.: Just go have a fucking great life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8495855952482594700?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8495855952482594700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8495855952482594700&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8495855952482594700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8495855952482594700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/09/anger-management-vs-i-dont-give-f.html' title='Anger Management vs I don&apos;t give a F***'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqzjsfvwPzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/bFUzJKlphHI/s72-c/piss-off.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3546132086659761573</id><published>2009-09-07T15:20:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T15:36:26.764+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Smile</title><content type='html'>Porque &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;palavras são só palavras&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqUXhCekmWI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C3kqz09UUU/s1600-h/smile_by_Vika142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqUXhCekmWI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C3kqz09UUU/s320/smile_by_Vika142.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378731186332146018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt; algumas coisas não podem ser escritas porque &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;nem tudo foi feito para ser escrito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqUaFb_zzWI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Cy3LNtAfnVI/s1600-h/DSC00070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqUaFb_zzWI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Cy3LNtAfnVI/s320/DSC00070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378734010680986978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/8380144524334296610-3546132086659761573?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3546132086659761573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3546132086659761573&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3546132086659761573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3546132086659761573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/09/smile.html' title='Smile'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqUXhCekmWI/AAAAAAAAAGY/0C3kqz09UUU/s72-c/smile_by_Vika142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8393673378306170217</id><published>2009-08-29T18:53:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T19:08:16.048+01:00</updated><title type='text'>First twenty years (lack of inspiration)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Splub6DrQNI/AAAAAAAAAFE/1QbkAWLmD5U/s1600-h/29072009_004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Splub6DrQNI/AAAAAAAAAFE/1QbkAWLmD5U/s320/29072009_004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375449055963594962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s complicated when having so many things going on around you, you’re convinced you’re not able to write. It’s frustrating when you try to get inspired and nothing seems useful, you feel like you’re losing your only escape to the world where everything exactly like you want, nothing to make you upset if you don’t want it, just for kicks. No, I’m not running, I’ve quit the whole runaway thing, I’ve never been a runner and I’m sick of bullshit and people who are not worth my time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not particularly upset, I’m not referring to anyone specifically but I’m just laying down all the things that have bothered me for years, all the stupidity, all the people who think they’re just so much better than me when actually they’re just jealous because I’ve actually manage to survive their critics without becoming one of them. I’ve never wanted to be the popular one, I just wished they fucking left me alone. Yes, I managed to have friends that weren’t like me, they were respected and they got me protected that’s for sure but I didn’t have to kiss any ass to be around them. No, I didn’t drink or smoke just to look cool or fit in; I did it because I felt like doing it. I might have made mistakes but that’s part of the process and if then you were the ones who laughed at me now I’m sitting up here looking at you but not laughing because you’re just not worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been played around, used to people’s advantage. Maybe I still am, I believe in the goodness of people even if I keep on getting disappointed. Though I always manage to get to know people who respect and love me for who I am. I curse, I still smoke and drink, I’m mean, I can hurt people deeply with just one sentence, I’m harsh, I’m cold, I’m a bitch and yes sometimes I’m heartless, that’s what I got as a result of years of “abuse” and I like it even if most of the times it’s just a sort of shield. I’m lovable, I’m sweet, I’m caring, I’m protective, I’m attentive, I genuinely care about people and I love to live; and nobody can’t take that away from me and from the people who get to see that part of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won’t ever give up. Yes, I keep on being stubborn. And yes, I’ve planned on giving up on many things so far but I didn’t, I’m not a quitter, I couldn’t be even if I wanted. I’m not trying to play victim or show people that I’m much better than them, I’m just telling what’s been like ‘till now, showing what made me who I am. There’s much more to come but the first twenty years are almost over. I am happy: with who I am, the friends I have, the experiences I live, the places I’ve been to, the efforts I make and even the mistakes I make... I don’t know what or who I am but I am me and I’m not changing for anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this started with lack of inspiration and a song. (High Road – Fort Minor ft John Legend)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8393673378306170217?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8393673378306170217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8393673378306170217&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8393673378306170217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8393673378306170217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-twenty-years-lack-of-inspiration.html' title='First twenty years (lack of inspiration)'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/Splub6DrQNI/AAAAAAAAAFE/1QbkAWLmD5U/s72-c/29072009_004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8542416641519756956</id><published>2009-08-24T21:44:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T21:53:28.457+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To a Knight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SpL9rkfchPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/hX-jQlzJOQk/s1600-h/lonely+walker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SpL9rkfchPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/hX-jQlzJOQk/s320/lonely+walker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373636230378194162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’ve got the poison I’ve got the remedy&lt;br /&gt;Or so I’ve hear someone say&lt;br /&gt;And if the poison is my negativity&lt;br /&gt;Then your refreshing ideas&lt;br /&gt;Might just be the remedy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You come with your warrior tales&lt;br /&gt;Your ideals of a knight&lt;br /&gt;I’m standing by the reason&lt;br /&gt;And my notions of what’s real&lt;br /&gt;Which you keep on defying&lt;br /&gt;Of which I won’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there’s a lot you could teach me&lt;br /&gt;But am I willing to learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not blind and I can see&lt;br /&gt;You’re not ordinary&lt;br /&gt;And I’m tired of all that’s so common&lt;br /&gt;So usual that it’s dreadful&lt;br /&gt;A novelty, so refreshing that it scares me&lt;br /&gt;Though I won’t run&lt;br /&gt;I’m on a search for discovery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that you keep some innocence&lt;br /&gt;That’ll betray you one day&lt;br /&gt;Innocence that makes you believe&lt;br /&gt;What makes you so trusting&lt;br /&gt;Without reasons to do so?&lt;br /&gt;Have you considered that what comes from me&lt;br /&gt;Is nothing more than deceit and lies&lt;br /&gt;Illusions of a spoiled mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I, as everyone,&lt;br /&gt;Might just be the poisoned apple&lt;br /&gt;That’ll destroy your hopes and contaminate your being?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you trust?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you believe?&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel?&lt;br /&gt;What’s the secret that makes you so complex&lt;br /&gt;And, yet, seemingly so pure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me more tales of wars&lt;br /&gt;Scenes from your knight’s world&lt;br /&gt;For they make me feel like once before&lt;br /&gt;When I dreamt of days of chivalry&lt;br /&gt;As a runaway princess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we’re not so different&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8542416641519756956?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8542416641519756956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8542416641519756956&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8542416641519756956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8542416641519756956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/to-knight.html' title='To a Knight'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SpL9rkfchPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/hX-jQlzJOQk/s72-c/lonely+walker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-895518385579752674</id><published>2009-08-11T20:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T20:32:31.544+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Things are not always as they seem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wordsculptures.com/images/illusion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 369px;" src="http://www.wordsculptures.com/images/illusion.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should be an easy theme to talk about. For starters I have this great example, the time I have on my hands currently. It could be seen as something useful, a chance to be productive or even to simple hang out with friends but it actually is giving me the most painful headaches I’ve ever experience. Don’t ask me why but this free time is making me feel quite bad because I don’t have anyone to spend it with.&lt;br /&gt;I mean I have friends but they are quite far right now. You might wonder if I don’t have any friends who live near enough to be with me on a somewhat daily basis, I know I wonder about this myself, and the truth is, no, I don’t have those friends, not anymore. And why? Because they saw things through their perspective, didn’t bother to ask for mine and now I turned out to be this mean and heartless bitch (which is not entirely truth) with whom they do not wish to be. Little they know about each other and the things some of them are capable of doing to one another but I won’t be the one to say it, they’ll see things clearly once they taste and feel the poison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changing subjects but sticking with the false appearances theme I now state that I shouldn’t be asked any questions about something I see if it’s not close to me, I’ve recently discovered that my eye sight is really bad and could get me into trouble. Explanation: even though technically my myopia isn’t that bad (only 0.75), when combined with my fertile imagination it imagines faces that aren’t actually real, well, they exist but not in that particular individual. Case in point, &lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/56/Rob_coombes.jpg"&gt;Rob J. Coombes&lt;/a&gt;, member of Supergrass, a great band that I had the chance to watch play live at Paredes de Coura Festival. No offense to the gentleman but he is not the prettiest of men, as a matter of fact I find him kinda... Well, let’s just be honest, he’s kinda ugly. The thing is, I only found out he is ugly after research on Google as I was convinced he was this sexy, not gorgeous but definitely attractive guy throughout the whole gig, I even confessed this to some friends as I couldn’t get my eyes off the guy. You can only imagine my embarrassment and disappointment when I found out he was ugly but I’ve now realized what made me see him as someone he is not. He’s got attitude and that always gets me. He walked on stage smoking his cigarette, he played while doing it, you could see he was having a great time and the hair didn’t hurt either. This and the fact that it was night time thus dark and that I was picturing him with the face of I guy I know who’s just really sweet and fitted the profile when it comes to the hair and smoking makes it all perfectly explained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the grand finale I’ve reserved the greatest and most complicated of example, feelings. Have I ever mentioned how I hate feelings sometimes? I mean, I absolutely love to feel but those bastards that emotions are always end up getting the best of me. There are those times in which you are not feeling anything noble and someone comes along, completely misunderstands what you’re going after, gets to thinks you feel something you don’t and you get stuck with a relationship that’s based on a misunderstanding. It’s completely obvious how badly that’s bound to end. Then there are some people how are completely incapable of understanding something you make perfectly clear. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It feels like you asked for a chocolate ice-cream and you end up getting a strawberry one, which you’re allergic to. Sometimes the guys who you ask the ice-cream to just seem to be completely stupid or incapable of simply “reading” or observing.&lt;/span&gt; This rarely happens amongst women as we as complex individuals are capable of getting the picture just by looking at it for 5 seconds. Nevertheless, my favourites are those feelings you never give away, the ones that make you turn your face because you feel you’re about to cry or that make you not say a word because you’re afraid you won’t choose the right one or even those that make it impossible for you to look into someone’s eyes because you’re convinced that one look will give you away. Everyone has felt like this at least once and if not they will someday. Why are these my favourites? I guess that because they are secret, they are the ones that mean the most to the person who feels them, they are also the ones that can be the most misunderstood: it’s easy to mistake the anger that comes from repressed jealousy with utter hate for someone. Also, as someone who has become unaccustomed to expressing feelings, I guess these are the ones I’m stuck with most of the time. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the message is: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;when it comes to pretty much everything in your life, even if you think you’re seeing things clearly, the best it’s to always take a second or perhaps even a third look.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: I just found out that Rob Coombes wasn’t the guy I was looking at, it was &lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3246/2773794875_8d88a983ca.jpg?v=0"&gt;Charly Coombes&lt;/a&gt; and as a matter of fact he is pretty acceptable, cute and sexy. I am my happy self again! =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-895518385579752674?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/895518385579752674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=895518385579752674&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/895518385579752674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/895518385579752674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/things-are-not-always-as-they-seem.html' title='Things are not always as they seem'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8521038017651323617</id><published>2009-08-03T19:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T19:30:58.543+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Say Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SncszNm6H5I/AAAAAAAAAE0/dPhDk-SjQTk/s1600-h/30072009_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SncszNm6H5I/AAAAAAAAAE0/dPhDk-SjQTk/s400/30072009_001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365806739373039506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;Don’t ever leave unannounced&lt;br /&gt;As if you were never here&lt;br /&gt;And all we lived was just&lt;br /&gt;An illusion that comes to me&lt;br /&gt;In my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don’t wanna stay&lt;br /&gt;I won’t be the one&lt;br /&gt;That’ll stand in your way&lt;br /&gt;But I could give you reasons&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I’ve got countless reasons&lt;br /&gt;Reasons for you to not turn away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually&lt;br /&gt;Probably almost certainly&lt;br /&gt;We’ll all go away&lt;br /&gt;One of these days&lt;br /&gt;When the sun stops shining&lt;br /&gt;When the tide turns&lt;br /&gt;When we’re not the same&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause we stopped being ourselves&lt;br /&gt;Please, don’t change&lt;br /&gt;I can’t promise to stay the same&lt;br /&gt;We still have tonight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8521038017651323617?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8521038017651323617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8521038017651323617&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8521038017651323617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8521038017651323617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/08/say-goodbye.html' title='Say Goodbye'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SncszNm6H5I/AAAAAAAAAE0/dPhDk-SjQTk/s72-c/30072009_001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3385885956722039770</id><published>2009-07-12T17:35:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:04:13.230+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SloXTyb3PMI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Sx4ZbFHM8ho/s1600-h/Fairytale_by_WildRainOfIceAndFire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SloXTyb3PMI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Sx4ZbFHM8ho/s320/Fairytale_by_WildRainOfIceAndFire.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357620335434218690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head is filled with questions&lt;br /&gt;That day and night, again and again&lt;br /&gt;Trouble my sleep and cloud my vision&lt;br /&gt;With memories that though being bittersweet&lt;br /&gt;Are the seed and soil to the doubts&lt;br /&gt;That will always be unsolved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bread they feed me&lt;br /&gt;Is made of desperation and regret&lt;br /&gt;The conquests they’ve failed to have&lt;br /&gt;The failures I refuse to bear&lt;br /&gt;For they are not my own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the fountain of hopes and wishes&lt;br /&gt;The carrier of nightmares and torments&lt;br /&gt;The balance of all that you are but&lt;br /&gt;Still I’m not perfect and I too have to fight&lt;br /&gt;For our path is written in reality&lt;br /&gt;And being the balance&lt;br /&gt;I’m also the dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;image: Fairytale_by_WildRainOfIceAndFire @Deviantart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-3385885956722039770?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3385885956722039770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3385885956722039770&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3385885956722039770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3385885956722039770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/07/midnight-thoughts.html' title='Midnight Thoughts'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SloXTyb3PMI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Sx4ZbFHM8ho/s72-c/Fairytale_by_WildRainOfIceAndFire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-4259966363977037972</id><published>2009-07-10T22:35:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T22:58:08.904+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tryin' to keep a smile on my face</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e3709f75f4556a62" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De3709f75f4556a62%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330054509%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5104679AF2F8463717FE682A8FF4BCFF90FA0E72.36E7637CA74B3C2A63B7DF93226938A553B9CC6A%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De3709f75f4556a62%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DdPVqglQHwZ_I-nTBRFZD8VPVsLI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-4259966363977037972?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e3709f75f4556a62&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4259966363977037972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=4259966363977037972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4259966363977037972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4259966363977037972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/07/tryin-to-keep-smile-on-my-face.html' title='Tryin&apos; to keep a smile on my face'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8618543836257400366</id><published>2009-06-14T15:04:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T15:10:05.213+01:00</updated><title type='text'>When I'm tired - 11/12/2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SjUEjP7c4dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/o4tRRwXUTQ8/s1600-h/___run_away_with_me____by_jadedice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SjUEjP7c4dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/o4tRRwXUTQ8/s320/___run_away_with_me____by_jadedice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347185136190153170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got up and started running&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for the end of the world&lt;br /&gt;Then I fell on my face and felt like crying&lt;br /&gt;I guess the world was just too big for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I felt I should go smaller&lt;br /&gt;Know my city and see what followed&lt;br /&gt;I got lost in the dark allies of the town&lt;br /&gt;And was scared of all that was around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth was I was tired of it all. That’s why I felt like running. I was running from myself as I’m used to do; I’ve done it all my life. But eventually I get tired of running away, I tell myself I have to face the reality, as it is said “get up and smell the coffee”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, so many useless things that I do! Like trying to smile when I’m sad; people can always see through my smiles, even the most cynical and convincing ones.&lt;br /&gt;I’m so fed up with trying to come up with guidelines to my own life. I can’t set goals if I know I’ll never meet them, a control freak that when it comes to herself gives up on the easiest stuff, like doing what I don’t like. In my search for the deepest things in life I’m losing my mind along the way. I’m confused and confusing and it obviously shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of getting attached to people that will leave like others did and hurt me on the way. I’m tired of trying to live peacefully and have people talking shit and worrying me. I’m tired of not being sure of who I am and of never feeling content with what I’m given. I’m tired of knowing I’m such a dependent creature when I feel I should be on my own. I’m tired of messing things up for others just because I can’t hold my tongue. I’m tired of longing for big cities or cornfields and always being stuck in the same place. I’m tired of feeling that my life won’t go anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of hurting me by doing things I know I’ll always do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of missing, thinking, waking, running, laughing, crying, smiling, frowning, bitching, whining, loving, hating, worrying, leaving, arriving, living... But I don’t want to die because I love life too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m tired of writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11/12/2008&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8618543836257400366?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8618543836257400366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8618543836257400366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8618543836257400366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8618543836257400366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-im-tired-11122008.html' title='When I&apos;m tired - 11/12/2008'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SjUEjP7c4dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/o4tRRwXUTQ8/s72-c/___run_away_with_me____by_jadedice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8678047719912632821</id><published>2009-05-30T22:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T22:10:49.216+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SiGgtL60j8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/IYqmkfcEszc/s1600-h/19012009_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SiGgtL60j8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/IYqmkfcEszc/s320/19012009_001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341727331192180674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m always trying not to think&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause that can’t make me get&lt;br /&gt;Everything that you do&lt;br /&gt;(Which) Isn’t done out of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;common sense&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at times I wish I was not&lt;br /&gt;The one who serves as a mirror&lt;br /&gt;I’m &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;not the same person&lt;/span&gt; as you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hate you for knowing me better&lt;br /&gt;Than at times I know myself but still&lt;br /&gt;You just can’t seem to see&lt;br /&gt;What’s right in front of you&lt;br /&gt;Hate you for making me feel like this&lt;br /&gt;Lost at see, lost for words&lt;br /&gt;I’ve said them over and over again&lt;br /&gt;But you won’t listen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;don’t love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That time is long gone&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t want to be with you&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t help to think of what it could be&lt;br /&gt;If you simply, for just one day, didn’t &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;think everything through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let your f******  life just happen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m the one who’s obsessive and I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;can’t stop wondering&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;You have to give everything a chance at least just once...&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll take the wheel even if it means to step against my own rules just to know what it would feel like... Sooner or later... (“&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Guess you better go and get your armour&lt;/span&gt;”)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8678047719912632821?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8678047719912632821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8678047719912632821&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8678047719912632821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8678047719912632821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/obsession.html' title='Obsession'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SiGgtL60j8I/AAAAAAAAAD4/IYqmkfcEszc/s72-c/19012009_001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-1522748285671137047</id><published>2009-05-17T18:58:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:01:03.320+01:00</updated><title type='text'>CAT POEM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/ShBQxiprukI/AAAAAAAAADw/xct6OEAcSLs/s1600-h/Cat_Facts_by_CarleighTea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/ShBQxiprukI/AAAAAAAAADw/xct6OEAcSLs/s320/Cat_Facts_by_CarleighTea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336854370479487554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They will not go quietly,&lt;br /&gt;the cats who've shared our lives.&lt;br /&gt;In subtle ways they let us know&lt;br /&gt;their spirit still survives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old habits still make us think&lt;br /&gt;we hear a meow at the door.&lt;br /&gt;Or step back when we drop&lt;br /&gt;a tasty morsel on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our feet still go around the place&lt;br /&gt;the food dish used to be,&lt;br /&gt;And, sometimes, coming home at night,&lt;br /&gt;we miss them terribly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And although time may bring new friends&lt;br /&gt;and a new food dish to fill,&lt;br /&gt;That one place in our hearts&lt;br /&gt;belongs to them. . . and always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                  by Linda Barnes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-1522748285671137047?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1522748285671137047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=1522748285671137047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1522748285671137047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/1522748285671137047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/05/cat-poem.html' title='CAT POEM'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/ShBQxiprukI/AAAAAAAAADw/xct6OEAcSLs/s72-c/Cat_Facts_by_CarleighTea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-530948718595509630</id><published>2009-04-13T18:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:11:15.167+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sono</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SeNyHVv4U-I/AAAAAAAAADo/barPxjK6-ks/s1600-h/12042009_002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SeNyHVv4U-I/AAAAAAAAADo/barPxjK6-ks/s320/12042009_002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324224654904677346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na esperança de fugir do mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Durmo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela noite fora e mesmo&lt;br /&gt;De dia quando, de olhos bem abertos,&lt;br /&gt;Me indigno perante as atrocidades&lt;br /&gt;Que presencio e entro&lt;br /&gt;No estado de apatia que faz alguns&lt;br /&gt;(Enganados) Pensar que não há nada em mim&lt;br /&gt;Para além daquilo que mostro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos os dias me julgam&lt;br /&gt;E me condenam por crimes&lt;br /&gt;Que nada mais são do que as atitudes banais&lt;br /&gt;De qualquer ser humano&lt;br /&gt;Cada palavra uma estaca que&lt;br /&gt;Irá, mais tarde, apunhalar-me (pelas costas)&lt;br /&gt;Cada palavra mera formação de letras&lt;br /&gt;Que na boca de outra pessoa toma novas&lt;br /&gt;Formas e se vira contra mim,&lt;br /&gt;Sua inocente criadora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo se torna questionável&lt;br /&gt;E também eu questiono&lt;br /&gt;A veracidade da nossa própria existência&lt;br /&gt;Que neste momento me parece um pesadelo&lt;br /&gt;Que teima em não terminar&lt;br /&gt;(Adormeci e não consigo acordar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que é feito das provas eternas que demos&lt;br /&gt;Demonstrando o nosso valor?&lt;br /&gt;Tudo foi esquecido, todo o bem menosprezado&lt;br /&gt;Em detrimento das pequenas falhas&lt;br /&gt;(Falhas comuns, erros humanos)&lt;br /&gt;Que é feito dos nossos sonhos&lt;br /&gt;E das esperanças que pela força (da nossa vontade)&lt;br /&gt;Tornamos um dia realidade?&lt;br /&gt;Numa fuga perpétua viramos as costas&lt;br /&gt;Aos nossos feitos imensuráveis&lt;br /&gt;(Medidos por recordes ou simplesmente julgados e quantificados)&lt;br /&gt;Às nossas eternas esperanças&lt;br /&gt;(Alvo de chacota por todos os que, frios e cruéis,&lt;br /&gt;Nunca conseguiram sonhar ou, talvez, tentar compreender)&lt;br /&gt;A tudo o que um dia pudemos ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dormimos o sono dos fracos enquanto&lt;br /&gt;Os, então, justos apenas nos dão mais motivos para dormir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que é feito da esperança?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-530948718595509630?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/530948718595509630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=530948718595509630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/530948718595509630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/530948718595509630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/sono.html' title='Sono'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SeNyHVv4U-I/AAAAAAAAADo/barPxjK6-ks/s72-c/12042009_002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-7714286259362366575</id><published>2009-04-06T18:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T18:15:20.926+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mentiras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injustiça'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deputados'/><title type='text'>Alguém....</title><content type='html'>Que me explique porque é que os deputados só têm de justificar as suas faltas ao quinto dia de ausência e a sua palavra é suficiente para a justificação e eu e mais milhares de estudantes habilitamo-nos todos os dias a chumbar por faltas se ultrapassar-mos as 7 na faculdade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda se ao menos a nossa palavra bastasse aprendiamos com os nossos deputados e mentiamos com todos os dentes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se alguém me conseguir explicar fico muito agradecida porque para mim não faz sentido.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-7714286259362366575?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7714286259362366575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=7714286259362366575&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/7714286259362366575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/7714286259362366575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/alguem.html' title='Alguém....'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-4366936335287336076</id><published>2009-02-19T20:57:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:01:11.184Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Imaginação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Escrita'/><title type='text'>Viajante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZ3Ie9x5K-I/AAAAAAAAADg/srfEyI2703c/s1600-h/PA230003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZ3Ie9x5K-I/AAAAAAAAADg/srfEyI2703c/s320/PA230003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304616370417773538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que fazes tu viajante&lt;br /&gt;Quando te perdes nos teus pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;E não sabes o que escrever?&lt;br /&gt;Quando a viagem pelos mundos &lt;br /&gt;Da tua imaginação chega ao fim &lt;br /&gt;E não sabes mais o que és?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como és tu capaz de esconder as tuas mágoas, viajante?&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que tente seguir o teu exemplo&lt;br /&gt;Há muito que deixei de ser como tu, capaz&lt;br /&gt;De sorrir pelas adversidades para&lt;br /&gt;Mais tarde, na solidão do meu quarto&lt;br /&gt;Tentar reencontrar-me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulo-te, distante viajante&lt;br /&gt;E queria ser como tu, viajante próximo&lt;br /&gt;Tomado por inocente&lt;br /&gt;Quando os teus olhos são janelas para o mundo lá fora&lt;br /&gt;E os dos outros são portas fechadas&lt;br /&gt;Em casas com telhados de vidro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando voltas, viajante,&lt;br /&gt;Do teu mundo de palavras?&lt;br /&gt;Dessas terras distantes nas páginas&lt;br /&gt;De livros que nunca serão escritos&lt;br /&gt;Porque a vida não existe para ser escrita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou será que nunca partiste?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-4366936335287336076?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4366936335287336076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=4366936335287336076&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4366936335287336076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4366936335287336076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/02/viajante.html' title='Viajante'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZ3Ie9x5K-I/AAAAAAAAADg/srfEyI2703c/s72-c/PA230003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6548280567111774835</id><published>2009-02-09T21:30:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-09T21:30:57.487Z</updated><title type='text'>Planos</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZCgj7FQhLI/AAAAAAAAADQ/oRPNmBMW8RI/s1600-h/DSC_2925%5B7%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="DSC_2925" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="166" alt="DSC_2925" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZCgkIqrx5I/AAAAAAAAADU/DjDWi2COVj8/DSC_2925_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Quero poder dizer que tenho uma vida preenchida mas o vazio de não fazer algo com um sentido maior impede-me de o fazer. Assim como o vazio que pareço ter dentro de mim faz-me pensar que embora haja dias em que tenho a certeza que amo, no dia a seguir não vou saber sequer se gosto.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Quero parecer feliz, ter um sorriso constante na cara mas não sorrio para fotos nem para quem por mim passa, tenho na cara o ar constante de quem está extremamente chateada com alguma coisa, mesmo quando não tenho nada no pensamento.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tenho saudades de tanta gente, vontade de ver tanta gente mas essa vontade é suplantada pela inércia que me parece reger e portanto, por vezes, limito-me a esperar que as pessoas não me esqueçam e que um dia não venha a ser demasiado tarde.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tento ser paciente mas passo dias a conter berros que não solto e a tentar não atirar algo num acesso destrutivo sempre que o dia parece estar a correr o pior possível.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Penso que tenho de ser querida, não por necessidade mas porque quero, mas a mais ínfima coisa faz com que os meus planos não se concretizem e seja má e cruel sem qualquer motivo aparente.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Queria dizer-te que sei como muitas vezes te sentes e compreendo como pensas e que tenho pena de não poder ter tempo para conhecer-te ainda melhor mas não o farei porque talvez seja dizer demais.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A ti, pediria desculpa pelas coisas importunas que digo ou se te faço sentir mal pelo que alguma vez disseste, se não o sabes confesso-te que não é por mal por de ti também gosto muito.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A vocês diria que sinto a vossa falta, falta dos actos de civismo e das melodias entoadas, e das conversas sem pudor, e de ser a criança mas sei que ainda terei algum tempo na vossa companhia.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A ti, que não sei que palavras escolher mas que um dia terei as minhas certezas absolutas e que finalmente saberei o que dizer.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Por estes dias sinto necessidade de escrever mas, como não tenho inspiração, escrevo sobre os meus defeitos que me são mais fáceis de apontar que as qualidades.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;E faço planos para um futuro próximo em que terei aquilo de que sinto falta – a minha vida normal apenas com algumas modificações. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6548280567111774835?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6548280567111774835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6548280567111774835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6548280567111774835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6548280567111774835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/02/planos.html' title='Planos'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SZCgkIqrx5I/AAAAAAAAADU/DjDWi2COVj8/s72-c/DSC_2925_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-247170541335612689</id><published>2009-01-21T17:32:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-21T18:11:01.513Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Elgar - Something Inside</title><content type='html'>Do filme August Rush...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A música é linda...&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5e3ddd948ae3b3c1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5e3ddd948ae3b3c1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330054510%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5228FF56D403801AEE166DC3A6852D97B3B8F20C.6BC216BF632E13DAB6C77762B3D5A7FC835E3A80%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5e3ddd948ae3b3c1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6eavp2pLDQPedNgEuJNHv2kLYwE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" 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href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/247170541335612689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=247170541335612689&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/247170541335612689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/247170541335612689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/elgar-something-inside.html' title='Elgar - Something Inside'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3191819741395825074</id><published>2009-01-20T00:16:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-20T00:21:55.082Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='portuguese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreaming disappointing'/><title type='text'>(Just to keep it fresh) E se...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SXUZAxJ_3JI/AAAAAAAAACE/Ean82t6vThE/s1600-h/url.htm"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SXUZAxJ_3JI/AAAAAAAAACE/Ean82t6vThE/s320/url.htm" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293164438029851794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se eu sonhar e não acreditar?&lt;br /&gt;Porque todas as minhas crenças,&lt;br /&gt;Essas ilusões frágeis como as nuvens,&lt;br /&gt;Se desfazem no momento em que acredito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se gritar sem emitir um único som?&lt;br /&gt;Porque todas as tentativas de pedir ajuda&lt;br /&gt;São inúteis, são inaudíveis,&lt;br /&gt;E a ajuda de que tanto necessito nunca chega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se eu desistir?&lt;br /&gt;De tudo, de mim, da vida,&lt;br /&gt;Porque nada parece valer a pena o sacrifício&lt;br /&gt;De lutar para melhorar&lt;br /&gt;De lutar para sobreviver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se nada for real?&lt;br /&gt;Porque sonhos se desfazem como castelos de areia&lt;br /&gt;Porque esperanças se mostram inúteis&lt;br /&gt;Porque desejos se revelam insuficientes&lt;br /&gt;O real impõe-se à fantasia que habita dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque promessas nada garantem&lt;br /&gt;Embora eu prometa e não quebre essas então verdades&lt;br /&gt;São verdades escondidas que ninguém vislumbra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu quero mas não luto por desejos&lt;br /&gt;Que nada mais são que desejos&lt;br /&gt;Mas que valem tão mais que as certezas&lt;br /&gt;Que procuro para determinar a minha vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero sonhar e não pensar&lt;br /&gt;Sentir e não tentar perceber&lt;br /&gt;Ser em harmonia e aceitar o mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In a depressive moment of my life, and there were a lot in the past, written in a Psychology class back in...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2006/10/24&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-3191819741395825074?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3191819741395825074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3191819741395825074&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3191819741395825074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3191819741395825074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-to-keep-it-fresh-e-se.html' title='(Just to keep it fresh) E se...'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SXUZAxJ_3JI/AAAAAAAAACE/Ean82t6vThE/s72-c/url.htm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-2528403555953214267</id><published>2009-01-14T13:56:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-14T14:08:31.135Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='expectations'/><title type='text'>Não se pode</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SW3xxN71vkI/AAAAAAAAAB8/VhBCjyD9bCI/s1600-h/PB170075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SW3xxN71vkI/AAAAAAAAAB8/VhBCjyD9bCI/s320/PB170075.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291150965086731842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode gostar de Tokio Hotel que é-se emo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode ver diariamente Perez Hilton que é-se coscuvilheira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode querer um telemóvel caro que é-se fútil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode usar calças largas sem estar a adoptar um estilo ou usar maquilhagem sem ser numa tentativa de parecer mais feminina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode usar um vestido apenas para satisfação própria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode ser honesta sem ser rude ou fria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode arrotar sem ser badalhoca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode beber sem ser bêbeda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode sair à noite sem ser vadia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se pode ser alegre apesar de ser depressiva, é-se logo considerada doida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não posso dizer palavras se não tenho a certeza que as sinto e não quero ser definida por meras palavras ou pelas classificações de quem nada sabe sobre mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E sim, não podia ter começado melhor..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-2528403555953214267?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2528403555953214267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=2528403555953214267&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2528403555953214267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2528403555953214267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-se-pode.html' title='Não se pode'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SW3xxN71vkI/AAAAAAAAAB8/VhBCjyD9bCI/s72-c/PB170075.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-4621994524786979346</id><published>2009-01-05T17:19:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:19:51.702Z</updated><category 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priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Cambria Math"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:0; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Said forever by your side&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Said would never say goodbye&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;See the lies and false promises&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It’s lonely, I need you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And you’re not here tonight&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Got tired of waiting&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;For the time you never have&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Remember the days I believed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And when I saw things were failing&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Farewells unspoken&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Made my heart get broken&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But now I’m open to something new&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;That doesn’t include you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Childhood dreams have fled&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Now all I got is the present&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;No hope was left&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Couldn’t put my mind to rest&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;With all the questions I never got to ask&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;But no answers would change a thing&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It’s too late to apologize&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And you don’t know that’s what you need to do&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Trying to adjust to living without you&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Not because I want but ‘cause I have to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;All images will remain&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;All memories of joy will stay&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;For I won’t try to run away&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Don’t think it’s easy, don’t misjudge&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;When you realize I’ve walked away&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I don’t know if you’ll see&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;It never mattered anyway&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;27-08-07&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-4621994524786979346?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4621994524786979346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=4621994524786979346&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4621994524786979346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/4621994524786979346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/farewells-unspoken.html' title='Farewells Unspoken'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-6967478051290384454</id><published>2009-01-03T03:59:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-03T15:57:55.280Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hopes'/><title type='text'>What you didn't see coming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV7kz18Om7I/AAAAAAAAABo/gJBrI8Ww_QA/s1600-h/PB160007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV7kz18Om7I/AAAAAAAAABo/gJBrI8Ww_QA/s320/PB160007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286914591883697074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You came along unnoticed or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. Can’t remember the first words, maybe they are not the best thing to remember or I don’t give enough value to the first things. I do remember the first time my hearing betrayed me and got me thinking about things I didn’t realize would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream of running away and you came along with the camera. If the camera could see through my skin, if it was that easy to see what I'm feeling, what I think, maybe you could explain it to me. I’m not quite sure of what to say, didn’t go through the trouble of thinking things through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I up for what’s at stake? And do you realize the risks I’m taking? I got tired of dealing with feelings and now I have to deal with yours and mine and I don’t gamble with emotions. I wonder if you see, if you can just tell that am as surprised as I’m scared. Will you be up for the challenge?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, just maybe, it could be right… And I’ll hold on to that thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you understand?&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I understand”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-6967478051290384454?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6967478051290384454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=6967478051290384454&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6967478051290384454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/6967478051290384454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-you-didnt-see-coming.html' title='What you didn&apos;t see coming'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV7kz18Om7I/AAAAAAAAABo/gJBrI8Ww_QA/s72-c/PB160007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3729907206361753443</id><published>2009-01-01T22:28:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-02T00:13:00.207Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(un)expected things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hopes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV1E4lXtR2I/AAAAAAAAABg/C6f9m_QRkKQ/s1600-h/01012009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV1E4lXtR2I/AAAAAAAAABg/C6f9m_QRkKQ/s320/01012009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286457276497741666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fireworks in the sky and the night’s just getting started. Viva la vida and a smile on my face; if I’m not happy now I don’t know what it is to be happy. After a bath of champagne I try to find my way around the people, I’ll wave goodbye to some of you but you’ll be on my mind and it was a pleasure being with you. But something tells me I have to go… Something else awaits me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive late as I always do, right on time but some things have already happened. I wonder why I came (I know I’ll always ask myself that question) and I guess I just knew I had to be sure of the things I want to and, just today, someone told me to try everything at least once. So I guess this is my leap of faith into the unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some empty streets and a crowded car, turning left and right would be so hard if we knew where to go or how to get there. I just keep thinking, I wish I could drive somewhere far away, where the rain isn’t likely to pour down on me or where these festivities are not so messy. I should have started the year somewhere where a dozen people wouldn’t step on my feet or fight me as if I were the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m not alone, I can feel you next to me. I tell myself I’m not wrong, there’s no such thing as being wrong right now, and I try to leave all those tiny little rules and norms behind. My mind keeps running and I think of all I’ve been told: by you, by me and by all the others and I can’t believe how some were so right. I’d be better off fearing the dark than fearing myself but everyone has to deal with the way they are. And the morning light is coming fast….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to see some old clichés come true and now I think of it I really feel like smiling… Life really isn’t how you see in the movies and I don’t mind because I really can’t see what’s coming next in my way and I’m happy with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made no New Year resolutions because I don’t want to know what’s coming next. I saw some hopes crashing down but I’ll give my best smile and carry on; crushed hopes won’t change how I feel. I saw some unexpected things happen but I don’t think I’m careless, I just want to live my life the best I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I know I can walk the world on my own but I don’t feel like I have to. I’m happy where I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-3729907206361753443?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3729907206361753443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3729907206361753443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3729907206361753443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3729907206361753443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SV1E4lXtR2I/AAAAAAAAABg/C6f9m_QRkKQ/s72-c/01012009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-3520064770002608572</id><published>2008-12-30T14:35:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-12-30T15:25:37.628Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(un)expected things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too much'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>This is why children should not drink</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVo7x8qpTJI/AAAAAAAAABY/pDhN70VUQ2c/s1600-h/PB160053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVo7x8qpTJI/AAAAAAAAABY/pDhN70VUQ2c/s320/PB160053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285602841957321874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How good it is to be out of this world reformulating songs that are at the same time so familiar but yet so strange?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I guess you can say that I'm high, too much absinthe for one's mind. There's nothing good for me to say. Unless I say that I'm happy, out of this world.&lt;br /&gt;I dream of better times... Fuck it, when I'm drunk all is good.&lt;br /&gt;Try it once, then do it all over again and tell me what you think of it, ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.: Even though I can write in less sober states maybe the statements I try to convey are not the most correct ones. The truth is, once you let go and get just a tinny bit taste of freedom you notice it is too irresistible not to go all the way.&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how some people are at all times, even the most fuzzy ones, utterly reasonable. So when someone thinks that what you're doing is all due to alcohol you can laugh at that person's face and say "I've never lost touch of Reason".&lt;br /&gt;Then, the most amazing things can happen at any given moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-3520064770002608572?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3520064770002608572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=3520064770002608572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3520064770002608572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/3520064770002608572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-why-children-should-not-drink.html' title='This is why children should not drink'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVo7x8qpTJI/AAAAAAAAABY/pDhN70VUQ2c/s72-c/PB160053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8760616643816408327</id><published>2008-12-29T14:35:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-29T14:41:49.807Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Razão'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desilusões'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ilusões'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicidade'/><title type='text'>Tentativa (February 14th 2008)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVjhmFnJwWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/l7SZUMYkgHU/s1600-h/black_cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVjhmFnJwWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/l7SZUMYkgHU/s320/black_cat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285222207176950114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vieste inesperadamente&lt;br /&gt;Despercebidamente te mostraste perante&lt;br /&gt;O meu olhar distraído, para todas as coisas ausente&lt;br /&gt;Impuseste-te como a brisa &lt;br /&gt;Que corre teimar em dias de Verão&lt;br /&gt;E fizeste com que a atenção que a nada disponho&lt;br /&gt;Se centrasse em ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A novidade materializada que como&lt;br /&gt;Um raio de luz iluminou o vazio a que chamo&lt;br /&gt;O meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;A minha alma despertou após uma eternidade de&lt;br /&gt;Descanso perante as inquietudes mortais&lt;br /&gt;O meu coração abriu-se, revelando-se ao mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As maravilhas do efémero sentimento que&lt;br /&gt;Me inundou como um mar bravio&lt;br /&gt;Me dilacerou as entranhas&lt;br /&gt;E se entranhou no meu ser que&lt;br /&gt;(Imperfeito) não soube proteger o que de mais valioso possuía&lt;br /&gt;A inocência&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maldito esse sentimento que um dia me&lt;br /&gt;Obrigaste a reconhecer&lt;br /&gt;Mal-fadada a falta de razão que tomou conta de mim&lt;br /&gt;E não me deixou perceber que o que achei ser real e eterno&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais era que ilusão temporária&lt;br /&gt;Desfeita pelo vento do infortúnio que tomou conta da minha vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejei nunca ter acordado&lt;br /&gt;Ter permanecido no sono aparente que me resguardava &lt;br /&gt;Da dor que se apoderou de mim quando simples palavras&lt;br /&gt;Por ti descuidadamente proferidas&lt;br /&gt;Como uma faca apunhalaram o meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Mataram a nova vida por mim descoberta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Destruídos os sonhos ficou a realidade&lt;br /&gt;Esta não aparenta nada que não seja&lt;br /&gt;Não profere promessas que se vão com os tempos&lt;br /&gt;Mostra o que é, dando o que tem&lt;br /&gt;Uma hipótese de através da Razão&lt;br /&gt;Atingirmos a idealizada Felicidade&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8760616643816408327?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8760616643816408327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8760616643816408327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8760616643816408327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8760616643816408327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/tentativa-february-14th-2008.html' title='Tentativa (February 14th 2008)'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVjhmFnJwWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/l7SZUMYkgHU/s72-c/black_cat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-151859395678378257</id><published>2008-12-27T05:37:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-27T05:46:18.389Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smoke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Contagiarte'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='World'/><title type='text'>Sounds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVXBHddyimI/AAAAAAAAABI/vvbsAIud9_w/s1600-h/spices.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 231px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVXBHddyimI/AAAAAAAAABI/vvbsAIud9_w/s320/spices.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284342071701965410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a sense of smell and flashes of vivid colours rushing towards me... (I can almost taste the cinnamon..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can almost feel the sandy wind and careless heat touching my skin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it the tiny drops in the mist around in the green fields facing me with roads yet to be travelled?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can smell the ocean breeze from where I come from, where white flakes of snow rarely come to my sight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, more than ever, I'm a citizen of the world.&lt;br /&gt;All through music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-151859395678378257?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/151859395678378257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=151859395678378257&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/151859395678378257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/151859395678378257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/sounds.html' title='Sounds'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVXBHddyimI/AAAAAAAAABI/vvbsAIud9_w/s72-c/spices.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-5688962008639777476</id><published>2008-12-25T20:55:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-25T21:08:09.931Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pensamentos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chuva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inverno'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='felicidade'/><title type='text'>Felicidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVP1pokn6iI/AAAAAAAAABA/lnjfHEhl9dg/s1600-h/20061228_IMG_0128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVP1pokn6iI/AAAAAAAAABA/lnjfHEhl9dg/s320/20061228_IMG_0128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283836883450194466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É em dias de Inverno, nos quais a chuva bate incessantemente contra a janela do nosso tão estimado quarto, que nós desejamos ser felizes. &lt;br /&gt;Sim, porque no resto do ano temos o sol para nos enganar, para nos fazer pensar que o calor nos faz ‘transpirar felicidade’. Eu passeio-me pelos anos sem saber como é ser feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque não gosto do sol, calor a mais, felicidade a mais, faz-me uma certa confusão. E não gosto da chuva, que estraga a imagem que preparei de mim mesma para o mundo nesse dia; que me faz lembrar noites de choro e de tristeza a mim já tão familiares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que é feito dos dias amenos em que me deitava na relva a olhar para o céu e a imaginar cenas de tempos antigos no formato das nuvens? Que é feito dos dias em que a paz de alma reinava e eu podia pensar que era tão fácil ser feliz só de ouvir pássaros a chilrear ou ver um nascer do sol depois de uma noite de chuva?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suponho que nada na vida seja fácil, eu cresci e tornei-me complicada, e só a inocência faz tomar algo por fácil. Longe vai o tempo da inocência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É neste dia de suposto Inverno em que paro e pergunto: Porque pensar na felicidade se sei que até sou feliz?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-5688962008639777476?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5688962008639777476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=5688962008639777476&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5688962008639777476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/5688962008639777476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/felicidade.html' title='Felicidade'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVP1pokn6iI/AAAAAAAAABA/lnjfHEhl9dg/s72-c/20061228_IMG_0128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-2651015509917179361</id><published>2008-12-24T21:58:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-24T22:07:54.825Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pizza'/><title type='text'>A diary (OMG) of a special (or not) evening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVKyrHgxziI/AAAAAAAAAAc/nYrffBRmoU0/s1600-h/PC220052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVKyrHgxziI/AAAAAAAAAAc/nYrffBRmoU0/s320/PC220052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283481766679662114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it seems like it's Christmas Eve. Such a special and different day... Or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only tell it's Christmas by the lights sparkling on my Christmas tree and the fact that my mother and I are actually sitting for dinner together at the living room table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I went for a run, something I hadn't done in what... 6 years at least. I thought it would give a special touch to the evening, combined with the pizza I had for dinner. My advice to all that are completely lazy and smoke: running is HARD but you get through it once you can find a way to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is Christmas. Now I'll wait for Santa as I eat all his cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. How frustrating can it be to walk around downtown these days? Enough to make me lose my mind and write this sort of diary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-2651015509917179361?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2651015509917179361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=2651015509917179361&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2651015509917179361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2651015509917179361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/diary-omg-of-special-or-not-evening.html' title='A diary (OMG) of a special (or not) evening'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVKyrHgxziI/AAAAAAAAAAc/nYrffBRmoU0/s72-c/PC220052.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-8528242670159700047</id><published>2008-12-23T22:09:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-23T22:21:10.339Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stupid Thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vila Real'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='=)'/><title type='text'>Absurd thoughts of an unocccupied mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVFkKA7H-VI/AAAAAAAAAAU/u9IxoDPTNEw/s1600-h/P9110030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVFkKA7H-VI/AAAAAAAAAAU/u9IxoDPTNEw/s320/P9110030.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283113961091758418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foggy paths lead my way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just can't get why the hell I'm standing here alone while I see all people around me singing along all the songs while holding someone in their arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've messed my chances up and now I'm meant to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I got lost along the way and now I can't find my way back. Will I ever find my way back into someone's arms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Right now I understand that I'm being completely ridiculous and I start interrupting the people I've talked about. Because, after all, there's always a way to have fun while depressing xD)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-8528242670159700047?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8528242670159700047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=8528242670159700047&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8528242670159700047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/8528242670159700047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/absurd-thoughts-of-unocccupied-mind.html' title='Absurd thoughts of an unocccupied mind'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SVFkKA7H-VI/AAAAAAAAAAU/u9IxoDPTNEw/s72-c/P9110030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8380144524334296610.post-2695693193589194326</id><published>2008-12-21T22:31:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-21T22:45:26.695Z</updated><title type='text'>All Around Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SU7GzFeQO-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/B779cSJd63I/s1600-h/P8220058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; 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	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Have you ever taken a minute to notice all that surrounds us? All the lights, all the sounds, all the little details that compose what revolves around us? All the people? All the leaves filling up the tree branches, all the clouds with silver linings in the sky, rivers reflecting the all the colors of the rainbow, a fish swimming upstream….. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I feel the raindrops falling on my face and suddenly I realize I’m part of something that’s bigger, much bigger than myself. It might be because a glimpse of all the happiness I could feel has struck me suddenly in a way I never thought it could. And all of a sudden I feel like living. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I mean, truly living, not what I’m used to do everyday. I’m determined to notice all the colors a sky can turn into, all the emotions your face can express, all the meanings of the tears running down my face, see what love is all about, love myself and all I see.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I wish I’d seen it all before, I wish had gone up that mountain and tried to touch the clouds, I wish I’d ran through that unknown path down the hill and fallen into that pit just to know how that felt like. Getting hurt would have only made me stronger.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I wish I’d sung all the songs that were in my heart, to you and to all that didn’t want to hear me. I wish I’d danced in the rain and felt like I was free but I wasn’t free enough to let myself do that. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I wish I’d gone away when things were getting too dark, when fear clouded my mind. I wish I’d found you at the end of the road telling me where to go next and that you’d gone with me so I wouldn’t have to walk alone anymore.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I wish I would have dreamt all the wonderful things I was missing so that I would wake up to see them come true.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;The truth is, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I’m still dreaming&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8380144524334296610-2695693193589194326?l=justwrittenwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2695693193589194326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8380144524334296610&amp;postID=2695693193589194326&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2695693193589194326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8380144524334296610/posts/default/2695693193589194326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justwrittenwords.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-around-us.html' title='All Around Us'/><author><name>Poison Ivy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06379136756376104424</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='12' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SqABrzs-qiI/AAAAAAAAAFs/ke2w9Ptl8DI/S220/03092009_030-002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_n4LHaXXkTN4/SU7GzFeQO-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/B779cSJd63I/s72-c/P8220058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
