<?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-8952798</id><updated>2011-08-03T00:28:52.671-03:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lucimeire Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8952798.post-1783141608215136143</id><published>2009-11-30T03:29:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T03:30:02.829-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Luz da noite</title><content type='html'>Ainda é noite.&lt;br /&gt;ainda é noite aqui dentro.&lt;br /&gt;a lua que brilha é falsa&lt;br /&gt;artifício de luz forjada&lt;br /&gt;no cenário que desmonta aos meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;e me desnuda.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda é noite e eu ando no escuro.&lt;br /&gt;meus passos lentos e pesados&lt;br /&gt;arrastam meu corpo à esmo&lt;br /&gt;porque não querem tocar o chão&lt;br /&gt;Aqui dentro, onde é escuro&lt;br /&gt;no meu eu inabitado.&lt;br /&gt;onde eu sou o que eu quero ser&lt;br /&gt;e onde não quero ser o que eu sou&lt;br /&gt;vejo sombras projetadas&lt;br /&gt;a me provar&lt;br /&gt;a existência da luz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8952798-1783141608215136143?l=rosapunk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/feeds/1783141608215136143/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8952798&amp;postID=1783141608215136143' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/1783141608215136143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/1783141608215136143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/2009/11/luz-da-noite.html' title='Luz da noite'/><author><name>Marcela Baiocchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02615765147648741291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Lm-YS7iEJrI/SqF5bTdgw_I/AAAAAAAAAwU/LiLXutd6Rm4/S220/Photo+10.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8952798.post-2356416739513327604</id><published>2009-10-19T10:41:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T10:49:07.805-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pragmatismo da vida</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lucimeire Santos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;De tanto fugir de mim, acabei me encontrando. Continuo, entretanto, sumida, esquecida. Disso, daquilo e daqueles. Eterno equilíbrio instável, agora acompanhado de um estranho bem-estar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está certo: por vezes, me considero pragmática e utilitarista. Sobretudo para com as pessoas. Elas me servem em determinada época, dado contexto. Depois, parecem cumprir apenas um papel nostálgico; pano de fundo para as memórias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não pense que isso seja algo meticulosamente planejado, maquiavélico, dissimulado. Mais do que pragmático, seria desumano. E, cá, contrariamente à vontade, ainda existe um tanto bom de humanidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há em mim muito mais Freud do que Maquiavel. Talvez um mecanismo de defesa que projete o pragmatismo nos outros, e a crença mordaz na projeção, que me faz agir similarmente ao comportamento que penso existir nos demais. E, afinal, não somos todos pragmáticos nas relações interpessoais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que o envelhecimento (tenho medo de usar "amadurecimento") nos faz mais utilitários. Menos devaneios, mais concretude, mais ações; fatos. Vida vivida agora – não projetada no futuro. Para mais tarde, virar mero pano de fundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, talvez, a utilidade da vida. Assim, preguiçosamente e sem poesia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8952798-2356416739513327604?l=rosapunk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/feeds/2356416739513327604/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8952798&amp;postID=2356416739513327604' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/2356416739513327604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/2356416739513327604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/2009/10/pragmatismo-da-vida.html' title='Pragmatismo da vida'/><author><name>Lucimeire Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8952798.post-1145163437488348148</id><published>2009-09-03T17:37:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T17:51:19.937-03:00</updated><title type='text'>(Re) volta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lucimeire Santos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltas sempre às voltas&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo durará a (re) volta?&lt;br /&gt;Objetivo, pra quê?&lt;br /&gt;Dicionários reduzidos, enciclopédias fechadas, literaturas perdidas, livros não-devolvidos&lt;br /&gt;Amigos esquecidos&lt;br /&gt;Uma (de) mente cansada.&lt;br /&gt;Umas (se) mentes irrigadas.&lt;br /&gt;Contrariadas, informadas, maltratadas.&lt;br /&gt;(Alg) Umas novas histórias.&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio das palavras que falam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;E a velha irriquieta verborragia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8952798-1145163437488348148?l=rosapunk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/feeds/1145163437488348148/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8952798&amp;postID=1145163437488348148' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/1145163437488348148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/1145163437488348148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/2009/09/voltas-que-fazem-volta.html' title='(Re) volta'/><author><name>Lucimeire Santos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8952798.post-5129237871071584286</id><published>2008-10-30T12:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T12:40:33.743-02:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>é o seguinte:&lt;br /&gt;só posto neste blog quando todas decidirem postar.&lt;br /&gt;beijo me liga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8952798-5129237871071584286?l=rosapunk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/feeds/5129237871071584286/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8952798&amp;postID=5129237871071584286' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/5129237871071584286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8952798/posts/default/5129237871071584286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rosapunk.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_30.html' title='...'/><author><name>Marcela Baiocchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02615765147648741291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Lm-YS7iEJrI/SqF5bTdgw_I/AAAAAAAAAwU/LiLXutd6Rm4/S220/Photo+10.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
