<?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-5157144480931993074</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:58:15.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PONTO</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-2566649359254589299</id><published>2011-12-04T17:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T17:23:42.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teu olhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Sem querer me perdi,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fzrqLThvmVI/Ttwcl3E_78I/AAAAAAAAAMo/z6A_rbPfUQY/s1600/casal_olhar2%255B1%255D5R5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fzrqLThvmVI/Ttwcl3E_78I/AAAAAAAAAMo/z6A_rbPfUQY/s320/casal_olhar2%255B1%255D5R5.jpg" width="244" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;me perdi no teu olhar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;que sem pedir licença&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;bagunçou minha casa toda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;me deixou atoa,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;me revelou teu encanto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;e eu me viciei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;me deu uma dose tão forte,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;que me apaixonei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Agora quero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;quero me perder sempre,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;e me encontrar nesse olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;que faz o mundo parar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;só ele me faz sentir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;sozinha no meio da multidão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;pra onde eu for vai seguir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;gravado em meu coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-2566649359254589299?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/2566649359254589299/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=2566649359254589299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2566649359254589299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2566649359254589299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/12/teu-olhar.html' title='Teu olhar'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fzrqLThvmVI/Ttwcl3E_78I/AAAAAAAAAMo/z6A_rbPfUQY/s72-c/casal_olhar2%255B1%255D5R5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8628936833578220784</id><published>2011-11-11T12:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T12:32:42.784-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passou...</title><content type='html'>Na verdade não tenho nada pra te dizer,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;queria apenas te ver,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;te ouvir e sentir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas a verdade é que não vejo,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não sinto o gosto do teu beijo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e quando quase senti,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;o teu medo não quis assim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E foi a noite mais magica que nunca passou por mim...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8628936833578220784?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8628936833578220784/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8628936833578220784&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8628936833578220784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8628936833578220784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/11/passou.html' title='Passou...'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-2326116229137648547</id><published>2011-10-23T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T18:40:18.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deveria ser eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Tudo está confuso em meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;Você não vê mais nada em mim.&lt;br /&gt;E eu tenho tanto medo de&lt;br /&gt;acordar sozinho aqui,&lt;br /&gt;sei que é cedo mas&lt;br /&gt;por favor não me olha assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deveria ser eu,&lt;br /&gt;te fazendo sorrir,&lt;br /&gt;Eu,te colocando pra dormir,&lt;br /&gt;Eu,comprando presentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deveria ser eu, Deveria ser eu.&lt;br /&gt;sentindo seus beijos,&lt;br /&gt;Eu, segurando sua mão.&lt;br /&gt;eu, recebendo perdão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo continua como está,&lt;br /&gt;Outros braços podem te tocar.&lt;br /&gt;E eu tenho tanto medo de&lt;br /&gt;está tudo tão errado aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-2326116229137648547?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/2326116229137648547/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=2326116229137648547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2326116229137648547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2326116229137648547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/10/esta-tudo-baguncado-em-minha-cabeca.html' title='Deveria ser eu'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-5491374502362849423</id><published>2011-09-21T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T06:29:13.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mesmo sentindo saudade....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando despedidas acontecem, eu costumo ficar alegre pela inspiração que elas me trazem.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que seria do abraço apertado sem a partida?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E do beijo sem a despedida?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A vida aqui na terra anda precisando de mais sensibilidade.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O mundo precisa de menos dor,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menos ódio e mais carinho,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mais saudade e mais amor. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As ruas precisam de menos medo,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menos tristeza,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menos bandidos e mais amigos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os amigos precisam de mais tempo juntos,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menos inveja e menos falsidade.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Menos orgulho e mais verdade.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E as pessoas, há essas precisam sentir!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: &amp;quot;Courier New&amp;quot;, Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nós precisamos sentir! Os sentimentos são o que nos forma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-5491374502362849423?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/5491374502362849423/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=5491374502362849423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5491374502362849423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5491374502362849423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/09/quando-despedidas-acontecem-eu-costumo.html' title='Mesmo sentindo saudade....'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-2095630765911541077</id><published>2011-05-26T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T09:57:31.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Manter o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;equilíbrio&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;  Segura-lo com unhas e dentes afim de manter corpo, alma, mente e coração em perfeita &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;harmonia&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Feche seus olhos e tente não pensar em nada. Pode ser um nada preto, ou branco, ou até mesmo colorido, mas tem que ser nada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Não consegue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Paz, é o que existe no interior de todas as expectativas, ela que tanto se busca, que tanto se pede, esta ai dentro de você esperando &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ansiosamente&lt;/span&gt; sua chegada.&lt;br /&gt;  A medida justa de cada grão de areia que forma o ser, nela está o mais celebre encontro da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Encontre você a si mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-2095630765911541077?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/2095630765911541077/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=2095630765911541077&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2095630765911541077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2095630765911541077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/05/manter-o-equilibro.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6309596957532970970</id><published>2011-05-17T22:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T23:05:15.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quase uma historia de amor....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Amei pelo teu cheiro, pelo teu sabor, teu jeito , teu peito....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Mas também amei pelo defeito, pela dor, pelo rancor de amar além do amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;E quem é a dor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Senão companheira primeira do amor e do amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Primeiro, o sofrimento de saber, sentir, estar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;prisioneira do dom sem dó,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;sem causa nem acusador.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Talvez não seja pelo cheiro, mas pelo sabor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Talvez não seja teu jeito, mas pelo medo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;assustador esse desejo de amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt; quanto tento, quanto penso e insisto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;desisto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;mas sobrevivo, agonizando o dom,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;que é teu, foi tu quem me deu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Chega!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/5157144480931993074-6309596957532970970?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6309596957532970970/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6309596957532970970&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6309596957532970970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6309596957532970970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/05/quase-uma-grande-historia-de-amor.html' title='Quase uma historia de amor....'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6048893126031937697</id><published>2011-02-11T04:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T05:29:56.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Opa&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje vim pra falar de amigos, ou de obrigações? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ou de surpresas? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ou dos dia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;u melhor de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De quando somos obrigados a conviver &lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;todos dia&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/span&gt; com aquela &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;patricinha&lt;/span&gt; toda fresca no colégio, ou aquela &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;madame&lt;/span&gt; de nariz empinado no trabalho. Então as coisas ficam engraçadas porque &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;agente&lt;/span&gt; descobre que a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;patricinha&lt;/span&gt; também fala palavrão, e a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;madame&lt;/span&gt; apesar da &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;beca&lt;/span&gt; também anda de &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ônibus&lt;/span&gt;. E quando você acha que todos estão&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt; "&lt;strong&gt;cagando e andando pra você&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/span&gt; aquela perua, com cara de coca-cola no deserto, vem e te oferece um &lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;leite quente&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A vida é cheia de surpresas, mas as pessoas nos surpreendem a cada dia, e quando &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;percebemos&lt;/span&gt; elas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;já&lt;/span&gt; fazem parte das nossas vidas, mesmo &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; a conhecendo,mas nos ajudando a conviver com as obrigações e deveres, dividindo as alegrias, rindo das &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tristezas&lt;/span&gt;, e trocando sorrisos e &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fofocas&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;todos dia&lt;/strong&gt;".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não vamos mais ficar juntos todo o dia, mas continuaremos nos vendo &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;"todos dia!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-6048893126031937697?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6048893126031937697/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6048893126031937697&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6048893126031937697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6048893126031937697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2011/02/todos-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-7450841724793003001</id><published>2010-12-30T15:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T15:52:44.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;da,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; ladra de tudo que temos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;me consome com seu paradigmas e regras.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Já não consigo viver,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apenas luto para não morrer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas o tempo é quem consome o produto,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nossa paz, nossa tristeza e felicidade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;é ele quem nos toma tudo quem mata de saudade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E para ele nada tenho, apenas o meu presente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;passado e futuro ausentes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apenas minhas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lembranças&lt;/span&gt; de quando havia esperança de viver sem tempo e somente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"E por falar em tempo..."&lt;/div&gt;O tempo anda me comendo por trás e sem pedir licença."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-7450841724793003001?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/7450841724793003001/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=7450841724793003001&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7450841724793003001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7450841724793003001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/12/vi-da-ladra-de-tudo-que-temos-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-2643266989955394568</id><published>2010-10-21T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-21T10:15:33.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CRÊR</title><content type='html'>Quando ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando o frio não é mais suportável e a dor aumenta em doses mortais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando a razão se torna inútil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empunha-se então o pedido de socorro,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o primeiro sinal de ajuda se torna o ultimo fô&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lego&lt;/span&gt; da salvação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;sobrenatural&lt;/span&gt; vem atona derrotar nossa questionadora razão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É impossível viver sem FÉ,&lt;br /&gt;ela é quem nos sustenta quando nossas forças não são mais o bastante.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-2643266989955394568?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/2643266989955394568/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=2643266989955394568&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2643266989955394568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2643266989955394568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/10/crer.html' title='CRÊR'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6113361658044607500</id><published>2010-09-02T16:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T16:16:36.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu berço</title><content type='html'>Saudade daquele tempo,&lt;div&gt;quando não sabia nada de nada,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando sempre tinha razão,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;não entendia o que era o vento,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando o sorvete custava uma prata,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quando não havia magoas em meu coração....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-6113361658044607500?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6113361658044607500/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6113361658044607500&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6113361658044607500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6113361658044607500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/09/meu-berco.html' title='Meu berço'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-3491898346191485948</id><published>2010-07-19T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T21:19:35.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEkX8psEsNI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/DePU8Gtvfzw/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEkX8psEsNI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/DePU8Gtvfzw/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496951150932701394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;LUTO PELA MÚSICA DE QUALIDADE &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'courier new';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&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/5157144480931993074-3491898346191485948?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/3491898346191485948/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=3491898346191485948&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3491898346191485948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3491898346191485948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/07/luto-pela-musica-de-qualidade.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEkX8psEsNI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/DePU8Gtvfzw/s72-c/Untitled-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-5959329433924231160</id><published>2010-07-11T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T10:19:57.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dias de correria e lentidão,&lt;div&gt;muita espera e pouco coração.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Horas de angústia e escuridão,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;muita duvida com certeza &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;envão&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os segundos se estendem por horas cansadas e lentas, os corações gritam! De tão roucos não falam mais, e sobram apenas letras ferindo e cortando com lâminas de saudade roubando toda minha paz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Pois o tempo arrastado é muito,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;e muito é um pouco demais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Esse pouco me mata aos poucos,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;desse pouco eu não quero mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-5959329433924231160?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/5959329433924231160/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=5959329433924231160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5959329433924231160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5959329433924231160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/07/dias-de-correria-e-lentidao-muita.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-2680775860032518798</id><published>2010-05-03T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T09:56:38.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Criação X Evolução</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S98APWUtSFI/AAAAAAAAALg/OxXZzbfJfUA/s1600/evolution_and_creation_invitation-p1616610626111243812diuo_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S98APWUtSFI/AAAAAAAAALg/OxXZzbfJfUA/s320/evolution_and_creation_invitation-p1616610626111243812diuo_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467088736341542994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S98AASJuZhI/AAAAAAAAALY/BzyA7LgSaIs/s1600/evolution_and_creation_invitation-p1616610626111243812diuo_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Até o século XVIII era &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unânime&lt;/span&gt; e incontestável a crença de que tudo que existe foi "Criado" por ato &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;divino&lt;/span&gt;. A partir de então iniciaram-se especulações e oposições a esta teoria, pesquisadores começaram a perceber a influencia do meio sobre as formas de vida, constatando que tudo pode sofrer alterações a depender do meio em que está.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Atualmente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; existem provas de que a "evolução" existiu e continua acontecendo. Não só as tecnologias desenvolvidas, mas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tabém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as transformações genéticas, mutações, etc...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os seres humanos primitivos se comunicação através de gestos e sinais e com muita dificuldade, hoje uma pessoa consegue falar várias línguas, facilitando cada vez mais a comunicação e transmissão de conhecimento e informações.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apesar de tantas evidencias de evolução, existem ainda muitas duvidas e pouca informação sobre o início de tudo, fazendo com que as pessoas mantenham sua crença em criação divina. Diante de tantas dúvidas a sociedade vive em conflito constante e sem previsão de consenso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afinal o que deu origem a terra e a esse mecanismo tão perfeito que é o universo, onde tudo está interligado e em constante transformação e desenvolvimento?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/5157144480931993074-2680775860032518798?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/2680775860032518798/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=2680775860032518798&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2680775860032518798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/2680775860032518798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/05/criacao-x-evolucao.html' title='Criação X Evolução'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S98APWUtSFI/AAAAAAAAALg/OxXZzbfJfUA/s72-c/evolution_and_creation_invitation-p1616610626111243812diuo_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-3462231338440663265</id><published>2010-03-26T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T05:16:25.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ASSIM</title><content type='html'>Ela chegou devagar...&lt;div&gt;e quando as peles se tocaram...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;o corpo respondeu...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a tudo o que sentia em segredo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Se aproximou mais um pouco...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;e quando os lábios se tocaram...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;o desejo respondeu...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;a febre dominou os sentidos...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;um choque entre olhares...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;entre sensações paralelas...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;febre e desejo iguais...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Paixão e amor em duplo sentido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Desejo, carinho e tudo em dobro...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-3462231338440663265?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/3462231338440663265/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=3462231338440663265&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3462231338440663265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3462231338440663265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2010/03/encontro.html' title='ASSIM'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8674229456205393221</id><published>2009-12-23T14:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T04:02:35.259-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S0SsuWdwPEI/AAAAAAAAAKk/bhfULRAn87M/s1600-h/Imagem009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S0SsuWdwPEI/AAAAAAAAAKk/bhfULRAn87M/s320/Imagem009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423649763565255746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&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;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;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;para cada dia uma saudade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;para toda a saudade você...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;pra você todo o amor que existe em mim...&lt;br /&gt;e para este amor a eternidade...&lt;br /&gt;porque nada é completo sem saudade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;nada é completo sem você...&lt;br /&gt;e a eternidade é só mais um dia....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;depois de uma noite vazia...&lt;br /&gt;quando você está longe assim.... &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/5157144480931993074-8674229456205393221?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8674229456205393221/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8674229456205393221&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8674229456205393221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8674229456205393221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/12/lonely.html' title='Lonely'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/S0SsuWdwPEI/AAAAAAAAAKk/bhfULRAn87M/s72-c/Imagem009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8108017803930594917</id><published>2009-10-17T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T09:10:53.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu Sopro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/StnsdF8atiI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jiBwbfEhZLI/s1600-h/OgAAAGtDaWtnCwBI0xerOx_EGk34xSU3tJbc4rCQNIZ1mVocIhnMysM7YBbZi5AFr5pMbREEZ4O0F7UmgHKE0m0_mZkAm1T1UJ7_7Mf210-06M5knv_bSmBVCTI0.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/_9GiXat8XvXs/StnsdF8atiI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jiBwbfEhZLI/s320/OgAAAGtDaWtnCwBI0xerOx_EGk34xSU3tJbc4rCQNIZ1mVocIhnMysM7YBbZi5AFr5pMbREEZ4O0F7UmgHKE0m0_mZkAm1T1UJ7_7Mf210-06M5knv_bSmBVCTI0.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393602013308827170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;O prazer do presente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;conhecer e ter você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;o encanto do toque ausente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;feliz em encontrar o interior &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sem despedidas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;levemente preso ao meu destino&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;o teu encanta desconhecido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;o que conheço é sem saber&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;estou gravada em você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;camuflada em sustenidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;em  grooves e loops&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sentidos e intensos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8108017803930594917?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8108017803930594917/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8108017803930594917&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8108017803930594917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8108017803930594917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/10/meu-sopro.html' title='Meu Sopro'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/StnsdF8atiI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/jiBwbfEhZLI/s72-c/OgAAAGtDaWtnCwBI0xerOx_EGk34xSU3tJbc4rCQNIZ1mVocIhnMysM7YBbZi5AFr5pMbREEZ4O0F7UmgHKE0m0_mZkAm1T1UJ7_7Mf210-06M5knv_bSmBVCTI0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-4566318398322043683</id><published>2009-10-12T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T07:37:02.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>quase irmãos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/StMy4f115II/AAAAAAAAAJw/UWnALvODNfg/s1600-h/OgAAAAaQz4G3W5M3IgpNCtujd1A8YY1R9E53lttYRKxujHCr-dg20jwQ13Do-9siwML5oDcupENM431j7XAdwtb1uXoAm1T1UKK5WklGAWZPPyh5rSRcVBzP0lZC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/StMy4f115II/AAAAAAAAAJw/UWnALvODNfg/s320/OgAAAAaQz4G3W5M3IgpNCtujd1A8YY1R9E53lttYRKxujHCr-dg20jwQ13Do-9siwML5oDcupENM431j7XAdwtb1uXoAm1T1UKK5WklGAWZPPyh5rSRcVBzP0lZC.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391709125094007938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O brilho da risada de Mateus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;o perfume do sorriso de Felipe.&lt;br /&gt;o abraço idiota de lucas,&lt;br /&gt;as piadas baratas de Thiago,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo na bochecha de Riva...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando rimos juntos das maiores besteiras, e um só começa porque outro riu primeiro. Jogar volei o dia inteiro, mas só tem graça se Diego der sua contribuição atlética, é impressionante como ele não consegue controlar os próprios dedos. No final dormimos misturados na sala de Tia Abe, e cada um vai tomando seu rumo durante a madrugada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acordar com os passarinhos na janela,&lt;br /&gt;com a cantoria das arvores agitadas pelo vento,&lt;br /&gt;e ouvir os gritos coloridos de Mateus...&lt;br /&gt;Não saber que dia é hoje,&lt;br /&gt;muito menos a data...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dias de sol alegre,  pouco corrido, muito sentido...&lt;br /&gt;Amor presente...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-4566318398322043683?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/4566318398322043683/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=4566318398322043683&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4566318398322043683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4566318398322043683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/10/dias-de-sol.html' title='quase irmãos'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/StMy4f115II/AAAAAAAAAJw/UWnALvODNfg/s72-c/OgAAAAaQz4G3W5M3IgpNCtujd1A8YY1R9E53lttYRKxujHCr-dg20jwQ13Do-9siwML5oDcupENM431j7XAdwtb1uXoAm1T1UKK5WklGAWZPPyh5rSRcVBzP0lZC.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-5473707674270313273</id><published>2009-10-02T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T18:35:07.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OBS</title><content type='html'>Quando os acontecimentos da vida &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;afetam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; nossa estabilidade emocional, a nossa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tendência&lt;/span&gt; é achar que estamos sujeitos as emoções, que não escolhemos sentir &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tristeza&lt;/span&gt; ou alegria. Pensando sobre esse tipo de situação &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;comecei&lt;/span&gt; a observar a mim mesma e os outros, e eu tenho uma novidade para os "sensíveis" de plantão, nossa mente controla o corpo inteiro e consequentemente o coração, nunca sentimos aquilo que não nos permitimos.  Lógico que ela é influenciada pela visão, audição e todos os sentidos, mas nós escolhemos o que ver, ouvir, sentir. Ser capaz de coordenar e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;direcionar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; esses impulsos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;corretamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; não é um conceito para &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;insensibilidade&lt;/span&gt; e sim mais uma prova da racionalidade humana...&lt;br /&gt;Mas é fato que a maioria esmagadora das pessoas não tem essa capacidade de auto-controle.&lt;br /&gt;Estudos de um dos maiores &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cientistas&lt;/span&gt; de todos os tempos, Albert &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Einstein&lt;/span&gt;, mostram que aqueles que têm "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;QI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" acima da média, são capazes de controlar emoções com maior facilidade. O que não quer dizer que pessoas "normais" não consigam o mesmo, embora com maior dificuldade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-5473707674270313273?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/5473707674270313273/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=5473707674270313273&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5473707674270313273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/5473707674270313273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/10/obs.html' title='OBS'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-7154274247387325197</id><published>2009-09-11T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T06:50:45.792-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ser_________________Perto&lt;br /&gt;Sentir_______________Longe&lt;br /&gt;Estar_______________                           Aqui ou lá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viver_______________                          Feliz&lt;br /&gt;Gritar______________                         Tranquilo&lt;br /&gt;Correr______________                        Cansado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Todos são dois lados&lt;br /&gt;Todos são dois&lt;br /&gt;Todos são&lt;br /&gt;Todo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-7154274247387325197?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/7154274247387325197/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=7154274247387325197&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7154274247387325197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7154274247387325197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/09/ser-perto-sentir-longe-estar-aqui-ou-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-3193427448311445256</id><published>2009-08-01T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T20:49:50.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>J &amp; G</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;E a multidão aplaudiu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;os corações apresentados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Você foi por ela achado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e quem diria desse encontro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sutíl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tão grande amor fora revelado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Romeu e Julieta, ou talvez apenas palhaços...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quando achavas ser apenas um,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ela te fez dois em um só coração, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;e quando achava-mos serem dois...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ouviram-se novamente os aplausos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O circo se transformou em palco...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Os corações foram entrelaçados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;J &amp;amp; G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/5157144480931993074-3193427448311445256?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/3193427448311445256/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=3193427448311445256&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3193427448311445256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3193427448311445256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/08/j-g.html' title='J &amp; G'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6285790875748697941</id><published>2009-06-28T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T20:50:07.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;É SOBRE O TEMPO...&lt;br /&gt;E TAMBÉM SOBRE DISTÂNCIA...&lt;br /&gt;SOBRE MIM ,&lt;br /&gt;E TODO MUNDO...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOBRE AQUELE ABRAÇO QUE É TÃO APERTADO NA CHEGADA E NA SAÍDA...&lt;br /&gt;QUANDO SENTIMOS A SAUDADE INDO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;EMBORA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; NO ENCONTRO E VOLTANDO NA PARTIDA...&lt;br /&gt;E QUANDO MENOS SE ESPERA, ESTÁ CHEGANDO NOVAMENTE ...&lt;br /&gt;E ELE CONTINUA SUA CORRIDA E NÓS CONTINUAMOS CONTRA ELE, LUTANDO POR MAIS ALGUNS MINUTOS JUNTOS, OU SEPARADOS, FELIZES, TRANQUILOS OU AGITADOS, MAS SEMPRE TENTANDO FAZER COM QUE OS MINUTOS DUREM MAIS ALGUNS SEGUNDOS E AS HORAS MAIS ALGUNS MINUTOS...&lt;br /&gt;E É INTERESSANTE SABERMOS QUE UMA HORA PODE DURAR &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;QUILÓMETROS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; OU APENAS UM &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;COCHILO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, QUE EM UM MESMO INTERVALO DE TEMPO PODEMOS TER INFINITOS ESPAÇOS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAS UMA COISA É CERTA, PRECISAMOS ESTICA-LO AO MÁXIMO E APROVEITAR CADA MILÉSIMO DE SEGUNDO A MAIS QUE NOS É PERMITIDO....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;I'll Be RiGhT BaCk ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Anne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cavalcanti&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/5157144480931993074-6285790875748697941?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6285790875748697941/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6285790875748697941&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6285790875748697941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6285790875748697941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-sobre-o-tempo.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8145471820503253665</id><published>2009-05-19T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T06:36:58.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TOQUE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ShLyXGdjwTI/AAAAAAAAAHs/gOL_qfe-_GE/s1600-h/Imagem011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ShLyXGdjwTI/AAAAAAAAAHs/gOL_qfe-_GE/s200/Imagem011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337594987072962866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O som que toca...&lt;br /&gt;o acorde vibrando...&lt;br /&gt;a vibração acordando...&lt;br /&gt;a harmonia que me acorda...&lt;br /&gt;a sua lembrança...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e tenho passado meus dias assim...&lt;br /&gt;e tudo é saudade da sua musica em mim...&lt;br /&gt;da tua musicalidade tocante...&lt;br /&gt;do teu sorriso soando  carinho...&lt;br /&gt;da tua sensibilidade vibrante...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dias e horas&lt;br /&gt;musicas e notas&lt;br /&gt;você e as notas por horas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;e sinto tanta falto do teu toque...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8145471820503253665?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8145471820503253665/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8145471820503253665&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8145471820503253665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8145471820503253665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/05/toque.html' title='TOQUE'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ShLyXGdjwTI/AAAAAAAAAHs/gOL_qfe-_GE/s72-c/Imagem011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-7249842505046365070</id><published>2009-05-09T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T05:53:24.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>iT 's RaiN</title><content type='html'>É ela sim...&lt;br /&gt;terra molhada a secar o céu...&lt;br /&gt;sem ser, é em mim...&lt;br /&gt;cheiro de vento, som de mel...&lt;br /&gt;gosto das lembranças mais esquecidas...&lt;br /&gt;melodia magica do anel...&lt;br /&gt;gotas secretas, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bandidas&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Atonal&lt;/span&gt; com tons escuros...                               &lt;br /&gt;neblina cor de ouro...                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;riqueza&lt;/span&gt; livre sem muros...                               &lt;br /&gt;será da vida tesouro...                                      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;U&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;V&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;A&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/5157144480931993074-7249842505046365070?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/7249842505046365070/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=7249842505046365070&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7249842505046365070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/7249842505046365070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-s-rain.html' title='iT &apos;s RaiN'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-9035275068609529294</id><published>2009-05-03T09:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T09:35:44.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/Sf3H1p5xwSI/AAAAAAAAAHc/CQl5YnNtUBA/s1600-h/caminhao-design.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/Sf3H1p5xwSI/AAAAAAAAAHc/CQl5YnNtUBA/s400/caminhao-design.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331637258471719202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-9035275068609529294?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/9035275068609529294/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=9035275068609529294&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/9035275068609529294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/9035275068609529294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/Sf3H1p5xwSI/AAAAAAAAAHc/CQl5YnNtUBA/s72-c/caminhao-design.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-4450978223590717091</id><published>2009-04-17T19:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T20:06:26.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E é sempre música...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SelDe7lDe2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/vbyuL4Cp38E/s1600-h/Imagem007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SelDe7lDe2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/vbyuL4Cp38E/s400/Imagem007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325862233010568034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MESHELL NdegeOcello...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SelCk_BfbFI/AAAAAAAAAGc/k5IonkoooiE/s1600-h/Imagem007.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-4450978223590717091?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/4450978223590717091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=4450978223590717091&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4450978223590717091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4450978223590717091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/04/e-e-sempre-musica.html' title='E é sempre música...'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SelDe7lDe2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/vbyuL4Cp38E/s72-c/Imagem007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8484447828827660532</id><published>2009-03-27T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:18:27.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>! sOoO CoLd !</title><content type='html'>Na &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;frieza&lt;/span&gt; do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;a sublimação dos sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;quebra o encanto da flor&lt;br /&gt;e sinto  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;desprezo&lt;/span&gt; pela dor&lt;br /&gt;e solto o meu grito!&lt;br /&gt;até o ultimo ouvido do universo...&lt;br /&gt;até o ultimo raio de sol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grito seco sem sabor...&lt;br /&gt;quão &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;descartável&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; se tornou...&lt;br /&gt;ser escravo destas emoções...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;inimigas da&lt;/span&gt; auto-libertação...&lt;br /&gt;mas o grito transmite as vibrações.&lt;br /&gt;e afirma a quem escutou,&lt;br /&gt;mando eu neste coração!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8484447828827660532?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8484447828827660532/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8484447828827660532&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8484447828827660532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8484447828827660532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/03/very-cold.html' title='! sOoO CoLd !'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-3953156203713936272</id><published>2009-03-18T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T09:51:38.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ContemPlar...Arte</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;perfect&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl2IPqyNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/B38ApnEBfnw/s1600-h/Imagem002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl2IPqyNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/B38ApnEBfnw/s320/Imagem002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314570647130261714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Pôr do sol...Encanto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl12FYU4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/KrB-72sFnUw/s1600-h/Imagem006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl12FYU4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/KrB-72sFnUw/s320/Imagem006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314570642255270786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;haaa&lt;/span&gt;... a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;JaM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl1SuG_kI/AAAAAAAAAFs/AybJ-l7W6xI/s1600-h/Imagem016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl1SuG_kI/AAAAAAAAAFs/AybJ-l7W6xI/s320/Imagem016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314570632762424898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-3953156203713936272?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/3953156203713936272/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=3953156203713936272&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3953156203713936272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3953156203713936272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/03/cliks-contemplativos.html' title='ContemPlar...Arte'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/ScEl2IPqyNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/B38ApnEBfnw/s72-c/Imagem002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6520742772399782013</id><published>2009-03-15T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T15:27:25.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.PONTO.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: verdana;"&gt;   Ponto de vista                                     &lt;br /&gt;Ponto de encontro&lt;br /&gt;Ponto de equilíbrio&lt;br /&gt;Ponto de ônibus       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de cruz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de luz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de impacto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de orvalho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto frio &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto quente       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de fusão     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ponto de ebulição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ponto de partida     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ponto de referência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ponto G                    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ponto final    .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/5157144480931993074-6520742772399782013?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6520742772399782013/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6520742772399782013&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6520742772399782013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6520742772399782013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='.PONTO.'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-4530696973017036533</id><published>2009-03-08T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T13:04:44.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>?¿ WoMen's DaY ¿?</title><content type='html'>Foi instituído com intuito de homenagear mulheres que, no passado, começaram uma revolução contra a inferioridade feminina na sociedade. Por esse motivo, 130 delas foram mortas num incêndio em uma fábrica norte-americana em 8 de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Março&lt;/span&gt; de 1857.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  No entanto, qual a verdadeira finalidade dessa data? No Brasil, tornou-se o dia de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;parabenizar&lt;/span&gt; as mulheres por serem mulheres,o que é louvável, porém pouco se relaciona com o verdadeiro sentido do "dia internacional da mulher". Afinal esta data não foi criada apenas com pretensões comemorativas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Na maioria dos países, são realizadas conferências, reuniões e debates com o intuito de discutir a posição, o papel e o bem estar da mulher na sociedade contemporânea. Mesmo com toda a evolução, ainda existem muitos locais onde a mulher sofre com desigualdades, salários baixos, violência, jornadas de trabalho excessivas e falta de oportunidades no mercado de trabalho, fazendo com que este se torne também um dia de protesto, discussão e reivindicação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Portanto o conceito de data comemorativa é falho, superficial e esconde a profundidade do verdadeiro motivo pelo qual o dia 8 de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Março&lt;/span&gt; foi declarado "dia internacional da mulher"; que, além das homenagens, comemorações e discussões, é também um marco da reafirmação da mulher como parte integrante da sociedade com direitos e deveres iguais aos de qualquer cidadão, apesar de 24 horas não ser tempo suficiente para tanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;JUST&lt;/span&gt; TO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;REMEMBER&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;THAT&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;WOMEN&lt;/span&gt; ARE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;WOMEN&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EVERY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;DAY&lt;/span&gt;'S!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-4530696973017036533?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/4530696973017036533/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=4530696973017036533&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4530696973017036533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/4530696973017036533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/03/womens-day.html' title='?¿ WoMen&apos;s DaY ¿?'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-3049870018609802049</id><published>2009-02-06T10:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T08:16:39.904-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MUSICA NA ALMA</title><content type='html'>MUSICA! MUSICA! MUSICA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ritmo da vida...&lt;br /&gt;Expressão do coração...&lt;br /&gt;Remédio da alma...&lt;br /&gt;Quebra de rotinas...&lt;br /&gt;Invasão do íntimo...&lt;br /&gt;De dentro pra fora...&lt;br /&gt;De fora pra dentro...&lt;br /&gt;O mais puro sentimento...&lt;br /&gt;As mais fortes emoções...&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas e sorrisos...&lt;br /&gt;Infinitamente, todo dia, qualquer hora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUSICA! MUSICA! MUSICA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3Tfx-n1_-M"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a224d022bbe506f6" 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://v5.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da224d022bbe506f6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331634064%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D740538AC06B9DE0AD7E8356562E1E3038F8E1F0C.1E8961F3A64E6E564BAB4ADA4E529F4B260E33F7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da224d022bbe506f6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DO-cnXiGGF99aPyXmPeqKSnoc_As&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" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da224d022bbe506f6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331634064%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D740538AC06B9DE0AD7E8356562E1E3038F8E1F0C.1E8961F3A64E6E564BAB4ADA4E529F4B260E33F7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da224d022bbe506f6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DO-cnXiGGF99aPyXmPeqKSnoc_As&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/5157144480931993074-3049870018609802049?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a224d022bbe506f6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/3049870018609802049/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=3049870018609802049&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3049870018609802049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/3049870018609802049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/02/musica-na-alma.html' title='MUSICA NA ALMA'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-1936163018973453587</id><published>2009-01-30T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T11:58:24.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'>minha terra</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SYNMrg0htlI/AAAAAAAAACQ/b3013MzQ2iY/s1600-h/2201227645_963fdb2b71.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SYNMrg0htlI/AAAAAAAAACQ/b3013MzQ2iY/s320/2201227645_963fdb2b71.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297161897146168914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O som de minha terra...&lt;br /&gt;tem o groov das alfaias...&lt;br /&gt;a batida das caixas...&lt;br /&gt;o grito afro-brasileiro...&lt;br /&gt;puxando a levada nordestina...&lt;br /&gt;o ressoar do gonguê invade a circulação...&lt;br /&gt;faz acelerar o coração...&lt;br /&gt;o coração acelerado...&lt;br /&gt;bate no baque virado...&lt;br /&gt;baque virado não é samba não...&lt;br /&gt;é maracatu do sertão...&lt;br /&gt;maracatu de Recife e Olinda...&lt;br /&gt;o som de minha terra linda....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-91f1369b622ffbfe" 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://v14.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D91f1369b622ffbfe%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331634064%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D24706CE3613E3DBF973C98DEF6266DC1F805223B.17FDEC3E75BD4E00960B1C96937BDF83F974FC61%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D91f1369b622ffbfe%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DYT29-qoUKuMUJsqnSnBolfUpxsQ&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" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D91f1369b622ffbfe%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331634064%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D24706CE3613E3DBF973C98DEF6266DC1F805223B.17FDEC3E75BD4E00960B1C96937BDF83F974FC61%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D91f1369b622ffbfe%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DYT29-qoUKuMUJsqnSnBolfUpxsQ&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/5157144480931993074-1936163018973453587?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/1936163018973453587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=1936163018973453587&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/1936163018973453587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/1936163018973453587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/01/minha-terra.html' title='minha terra'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SYNMrg0htlI/AAAAAAAAACQ/b3013MzQ2iY/s72-c/2201227645_963fdb2b71.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-6733419901372791513</id><published>2009-01-23T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T11:43:03.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HOMENAGEM</title><content type='html'>Este post é muito especial e importante...&lt;br /&gt;O primeiro que escrevo em homenagem a alguém...&lt;br /&gt;Toda minha vida eu tive uma presença muito forte da família, que é enorme mas muito ligada. Um dos maiores exemplos de dedicação e abdicação da própria vida são meus tios Marcelo e Rute. Eles se doaram totalmente ao ministério de evangelização dos índios na amazônia ficando isolados do convívio familiar durante anos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele um homem forte de personalidade marcante, porém com algumas fraquezas e necessidades que não seriam supridas sem a grande mulher que tem ao seu lado, tia Rute....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SXpUGSGtrkI/AAAAAAAAABA/cdbZsAeCyRk/s1600-h/IMG_2081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SXpUGSGtrkI/AAAAAAAAABA/cdbZsAeCyRk/s320/IMG_2081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294636778843385410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juntos tiveram três filhos maravilhosos, mas que acabaram sofrendo com a ausência dos pais em momentos extremamente importantes de suas vidas, pois seus pais foram escolhidos e enviados por Deus para dedicarem suas vidas com o objetivo de salvar outras... Durante tantos anos eles estiveram cumprindo a determinação do Senhor, mesmo sendo ela tão difícil e dolorida....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em 2008 ano de férias tio Marcelo estava disposto a terminar o ministério e dedicar-se mais a família, passou muito tempo pensando e não conseguiu receber uma confirmação exata da vontade de Deus... Decidiu então que em seu ano de férias iria morar em Paulo Afonso e trazer os filhos Kézia e Anderson com ele, Lídia ficou em Manaus pois estava fazendo faculdade e trabalhando... Ele sempre fez muitas viagens, pois é sempre chamado para pregar em congressos e tudo mais. Em uma dessas viagens, na volta ele começou a sentir fortes dores na coluna,foi a vários médicos até que foi detectado seu problema, ele está com Leucemia Mielóide Aguda, câncer na medula...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UM ENORME CHOQUE PARA TODA A FAMÍLIA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Após uma bateria de exames iniciou-se o tratamento de quimioterapia, um processo lento e muito doloroso, que torna o paciente totalmente vulnerável a qualquer doença o que fez com que ele ficasse isolado durante muito tempo...&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que mais me impressiona é a sua confiança... Confiança no Deus a quem serve... Confiança no apoio de sua família... E principalmente o seu comportamento diante dessa tempestade...Nunca o vi murmurar, as vezes uma vontade de desistir, mas se levanta sempre com os olhos fixados no alvo, o Senhor que está no controle de todas as coisas e sempre reserva o melhor parar os que o temem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SXpXeZ9-JDI/AAAAAAAAABI/WXUjtukjyZM/s1600-h/ATgAAADjYEscc0_njwYgJPBbJyVcMfWH54ex7I_oBXKPKePR32Nv5D--jk4EDaRm7-8pcl08cQEiqRULpY1QF8BVYk9DAJtU9VCb59mLdDgNQBDfDSb0s_PLhEORCQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SXpXeZ9-JDI/AAAAAAAAABI/WXUjtukjyZM/s320/ATgAAADjYEscc0_njwYgJPBbJyVcMfWH54ex7I_oBXKPKePR32Nv5D--jk4EDaRm7-8pcl08cQEiqRULpY1QF8BVYk9DAJtU9VCb59mLdDgNQBDfDSb0s_PLhEORCQ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294640491805942834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero deixar registrada aqui minha admiração por este homem...&lt;br /&gt;e dizer TIO NÓS TE AMAMOS MUITO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps: Josué 1.9 diz :Não te mandei eu ? Sê forte e corajoso; não temas, nem te espantes, porque o Senhor teu Deus, é contigo por onde quer que andares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-6733419901372791513?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/6733419901372791513/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=6733419901372791513&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6733419901372791513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/6733419901372791513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/01/este-post-muito-especial-e-importante.html' title='HOMENAGEM'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/SXpUGSGtrkI/AAAAAAAAABA/cdbZsAeCyRk/s72-c/IMG_2081.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8883349211570756453</id><published>2009-01-08T07:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T17:38:24.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DAS ANTIGAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Toc&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Toc&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Toc&lt;/span&gt;, a batida parecia que era lá dentro da cabeça...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Acoooorda&lt;/span&gt;!!! O grito soou como um estrondoso trovão atingindo o mais profundo descanso de meu juízo...&lt;br /&gt;Porque as mãe fazem essas maldades??&lt;br /&gt;Pois ela me acordou assim...e o que é pior, para arrumar a casa!!Isso deveria ser considerado crime!&lt;br /&gt;Lá vou eu arrumar aquela velha &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bagunça&lt;/span&gt; do meu &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cafofo&lt;/span&gt; que ninguém entra mas mesmo assim minha querida &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;mãezinha&lt;/span&gt; me atormenta todo dia para "arrumá-lo"...&lt;br /&gt;Sabem aquelas pilhas de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;papel&lt;/span&gt; que deixamos no fundo do armário e que a cada dia se multiplicam na velocidade da luz???&lt;br /&gt;Pois é tive que arrumar uma dessas...&lt;br /&gt;Chegando ao final encontrei um caderno velho onde eu "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;moleca&lt;/span&gt;" escrevia besteiras e coisas sem sentido...nele uma bela poesia com uns 5 anos no mínimo...&lt;br /&gt;Quando  li essa obra literária histórica...&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração foi tomado por tão grande emoção....&lt;br /&gt;Que eu entrei em crise!Uma longa e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;revigorante&lt;/span&gt; crise de riso!!!&lt;br /&gt;Como eu sou muito solidária resolvi postá-la proporcionando, aqueles que tem disposição e falta do que fazer para ler minhas sábias palavras, um momento descontraído e altamente cultural...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hehehehehe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ai vai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Porque o bom da vida é tomar coca-cola,&lt;br /&gt;é juntar a galera pra jogar bola,&lt;br /&gt;e quem sabe o que a vida nos reserva?&lt;br /&gt;Temos mais é que aproveitar,&lt;br /&gt;pegar a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;bike&lt;/span&gt; e sair pra passear.&lt;br /&gt;Ser cantor de chuveiro,&lt;br /&gt;jogar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;vídeo&lt;/span&gt; game o dia inteiro.&lt;br /&gt;Comer um caixa inteira de bis,&lt;br /&gt;é isso aí! O importante é ser feliz...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8883349211570756453?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8883349211570756453/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8883349211570756453&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8883349211570756453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8883349211570756453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2009/01/das-antigas.html' title='DAS ANTIGAS'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8943344974591332883</id><published>2008-12-31T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T13:02:57.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ultimo dia do ano...&lt;br /&gt;Indiferente a correria, a euforia e aos paradigmas que envolvem este dia, faço dos últimos momentos de 2008 tempo de reflexão, não retrospectivamente, mas com o espírito tomado pela felicidade de saber que o ano passou e com ele suas tristezas e alegrias, dependendo apenas de mim mesma a construção do próximo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surgem novas oportunidades, novas amizades, quem sabe novo amor...&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo depende de suas escolhas, de sua vontade e empenho em &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;realizá&lt;/span&gt;-las...&lt;br /&gt;O estudo introspectivo daquilo que realmente queremos é o primeiro passo para a decisão. É claro que o meio em que vivemos, as situações criadas e as pessoas que nos rodeiam são parte indispensável deste estudo, mas você é o senhor do seu tempo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, eu tento escrever o que se passa comigo sentada observando a movimentação e agitação das programações para a "festa de fim de ano", e percebo quão fútil e inútil é esse cerimonial hipócrita que as pessoas repetem todos os anos sem a mínima consciência da responsabilidade dessa nova etapa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se todos parassem algumas horas, em uma reflexão pessoal, suas atitudes no ano seguinte seriam diferentes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenha tempo para você, suas escolhas são o alicerce dessa nova construção que se inicia em algumas horas... O que vai mudar no próximo ano é apenas a troca do 8 pelo 9, tudo é continuação...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8943344974591332883?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8943344974591332883/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8943344974591332883&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8943344974591332883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8943344974591332883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2008/12/ultimo-dia-do-ano.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-83074894204788308</id><published>2008-11-29T07:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T12:32:27.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Esperar</title><content type='html'>Quando escuto esta palavra, principalmente quando é dirigida a mim, da uma vontade de se desesperar, de sair correndo e contrariar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anne&lt;/span&gt; você tem que esperar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ação&lt;/span&gt; que implica em ver as horas passarem até que aquilo que é o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;objeto&lt;/span&gt; de sua espera finalmente resolva te conceder o privilegio de sua presença...&lt;br /&gt;Esperar por alguém, em alguém...&lt;br /&gt;esperar pelo resultado...&lt;br /&gt;esperar em pé ou sentado...&lt;br /&gt;o pior é esperar por quem não vem...&lt;br /&gt;esperar a volta de quem nem foi...&lt;br /&gt;ou de quem foi pra sempre...&lt;br /&gt;mas me contrariando digo que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;existem&lt;/span&gt; algumas esperas que não deveriam acabar...&lt;br /&gt;quando se está na companhia de alguém que não se quer deixar...&lt;br /&gt;esperando o &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ônibus&lt;/span&gt; passar, podendo &amp;nbsp;abraçar e &amp;nbsp;beijar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;haaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ai sim é bom esperar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-83074894204788308?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/83074894204788308/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=83074894204788308&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/83074894204788308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/83074894204788308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2008/11/esperar.html' title='Esperar'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-8275115305365550534</id><published>2008-11-28T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T11:23:09.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just likE</title><content type='html'>só quero te lembrar...&lt;br /&gt;que gosto muito de você...&lt;br /&gt;mesmo sem ficar...&lt;br /&gt;mesmo sem poder...&lt;br /&gt;sem beijar sem abraçar...&lt;br /&gt;só de falar e ouvir...&lt;br /&gt;só de pensar e sentir...&lt;br /&gt;sentir saudade que é bom...&lt;br /&gt;sentir carinho que é dom...&lt;br /&gt;até o tempo passar...&lt;br /&gt;até quando durar...&lt;br /&gt;e que dure pra sempre...&lt;br /&gt;enquanto o sempre não acabar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-8275115305365550534?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/8275115305365550534/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=8275115305365550534&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8275115305365550534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/8275115305365550534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2008/11/sem-titulo.html' title='Just likE'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5157144480931993074.post-834111350347135819</id><published>2008-11-28T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T13:00:24.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>influências...</title><content type='html'>influências variadas me fazem escrever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vezes as palavras nos pegam de surpresa e se não as aprisionamos elas fogem sem deixar vestígios... Das inúmeras formas de expressão, que o ser humano criou através de sua mente  extraordinariamente criativa, a escrita tem um espaço privilegiado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu crescendo em um meio altamente cultural, apesar de não &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;efectivar&lt;/span&gt; a teoria naturalista de que somos produto do meio, recebo e tento arduamente exercitar a hereditária &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;culturalidade&lt;/span&gt;, se é que essa palavra existe, herdada de uma família de músicos, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;artistas, poetas, poetizas, escritores, homens, mulheres, crianças....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas e minha individualidade??&lt;br /&gt;Bem, juntando tudo isso e um pouco de mim, vou começar a escrever essas besteiras essenciais que me fazem ser o que sou....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5157144480931993074-834111350347135819?l=annecac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/feeds/834111350347135819/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5157144480931993074&amp;postID=834111350347135819&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/834111350347135819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5157144480931993074/posts/default/834111350347135819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annecac.blogspot.com/2008/11/influncias.html' title='influências...'/><author><name>Anne Cavalcanti</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05705600920255477937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GiXat8XvXs/TEUru34hcOI/AAAAAAAAALw/uqPYRaTMeWc/S220/SDC12081.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
