<?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-21473274</id><updated>2011-11-14T16:40:49.333-08:00</updated><category term='Alta Fidelidade'/><title type='text'>Ibi Sunt Monstri</title><subtitle type='html'>(Watch Out)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>80</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4727429341157069402</id><published>2009-09-02T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T09:58:25.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Capítulo 1</title><content type='html'>- Posso?&lt;div&gt;- À vontade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E ela pôs a bandeja com prato e coca-cola na mesa, puxou uma cadeira e ficou almoçando. Ele nem gostava de aglomerações mesmo, e era capaz de criticar toda a sociedade capital-consumista em questão de segundos, mas não vinha ao caso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Largou os coquetéis molotov por alguns instantes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Na verdade, eu tô esperando alguém, mas acho que não chega mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pronto, agora era com ela. Que conversasse, comesse e fosse embora, ou combinasse um gesto solene de boca com um levantamento de sobrancelha, mas ela só comeu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do fundo da cadeira, ele olhou, olhou rápido pra outro canto, achou que tinha virado rápido demais, parecendo tenso, e passou a transbordar autoconfiança. 4 ou 5 segundos mirando um ponto, uma piscada ralentada, e foco em outro objeto. Perfeito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reparou que, terminado o almoço, ela agora despejava coca no copo, cuidando pra banhar as pedras de gelo. Boa estratégia, gelava a bebida mais rápido, mas por outro lado deixava mais diluída, e ele não... ih, ela pegou o olhar fixo no copo. Tinha perdido a contagem dos segundos. O olho piscou desesperadamente 3 ou 4, ou 8 vezes e fugiu pros sapatos de uma senhora na mesa ao lado. Um cisco, que coisa. Enfiou polegar e indicador nos olhos, mas não por muito tempo, ela podia pensar que era remela.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4727429341157069402?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4727429341157069402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4727429341157069402&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4727429341157069402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4727429341157069402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/09/capitulo-1.html' title='Capítulo 1'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-6724406040520952873</id><published>2009-06-25T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T12:48:26.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>É de lascar</title><content type='html'>Outra do meu trabalho:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em reunião com duas representantes de um jornal X, elas me dizem como foi difícil chegar até aqui. "Aqui" é um Centro de Convenções, e aqui vive abarrotado de gente. Foi o que eu disse a elas, acontece com todo mundo. Uma delas ainda brincou: "Pois é, e duas loiras, a gente quase não chega. Era todo mundo dando informação desencontrada".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Certo, as piadas de loira saíram de moda há algum tempo, mas eu sorri mesmo assim (ô, mania). Depois do almoço corrido eu desço ao térreo pra comprar mantimentos (Trident de canela) nas barraquinhas de ambulantes que aparecem do nada, que nem aqueles pássaros que ajudam a limpar rinocerontes. Eles devem receber a agenda de eventos mais precisa que existe em Brasília. Voltando, desci lá e qual foi a minha surpresa ao ver do que se tratava: Enésimo Seminário da Igualdade Racial. E é óbvio que quando se fala em igualdade, poucos brancos se interessam em continuar na mesa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Revisando o comentário da loira, ah, se eu tivesse a agenda dos ambulantes! comentário mais infeliz...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-6724406040520952873?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/6724406040520952873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=6724406040520952873&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6724406040520952873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6724406040520952873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/06/e-de-lascar.html' title='É de lascar'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-8006866332711864868</id><published>2009-05-16T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T11:46:19.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vou, embora...</title><content type='html'>13 é o número mágico de alguém, e esse é o meu tempo de Cruzeiro. Não é time, e aí vai uma breve descrição:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É não saber se você mora em Brasília, numa parte dela, em outra cidade, ou no sovaco da Asa Sul;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É penar pra ditar o endereço: SHCES ("ésse cê é ésse?" não, ésse agá. "ésse agá ésse?);&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É (ainda) poder, num banco frio, madrugar com viola, algo pra beber, muito a dizer e um amigo;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É ver as janelas tremerem quando passa um quase-plaboy com o som a toda, e depois esperar que os donos dos carros estacionados desliguem o alarme pra continuar a vida;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É ter que dar bom-dia ao zelador que encheu meu saco quando, moleque, eu achava um desperdício não poder jogar bola debaixo do bloco;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É não saber, até hoje, dar informações. Se me param à procura de tal quadra, ou eu digo que não moro aqui, ou, em dias mais inspirados, levanto o braço direito e digo: é por ali, bem pertinho;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É morar em frente a uma quadra de basquete e, depois de um tempo, reconhecer os amigos de longe só pelo jeito de quicar a bola;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- É ter uma saída certa pra cada direção que se queira ir;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E vai aumentando...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8006866332711864868?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8006866332711864868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8006866332711864868&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8006866332711864868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8006866332711864868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/05/vou-embora.html' title='Vou, embora...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-2785901219114911029</id><published>2009-05-10T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T15:16:33.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversa de Supermercado</title><content type='html'>Filha: Olha só a Gisele nessa revista. Já é mãe.&lt;div&gt;Mãe: É mesmo. E olha, sem maquiagem ela parece uma mulher &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;normal&lt;/span&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;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;A todas as mães normais do mundo.&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/21473274-2785901219114911029?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2785901219114911029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2785901219114911029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2785901219114911029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2785901219114911029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/05/conversa-de-supermercado.html' title='Conversa de Supermercado'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-5441200562570750848</id><published>2009-04-07T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:49:54.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emiliano Subirá aos Céus</title><content type='html'>Não é um anúncio! nem a prova da minha conversão ao cristianismo. É uma tirinha dos famosos "Malvados" que, por questões de amoralidade ao avesso, não postarei aqui. Quem conhece sabe onde achar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma vez, qual é o ponto? o ponto é: vocês já fizeram algum desejo idiota, alguma ação imbecil, e sentiram como se estivessem no topo do mundo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuidado, porque, de certa forma, estamos todos. O que fazemos com nossa herança, ao carregar o saber dos nossos antepassados? nos tornamos mais inteligentes e sensíveis por não precisarmos guerrear pra sobreviver?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SdwCoEE4GII/AAAAAAAAAHM/mD56wSCNPQo/s1600-h/DSC01109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322131746957301890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SdwCoEE4GII/AAAAAAAAAHM/mD56wSCNPQo/s200/DSC01109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;"Heaven can wait"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-5441200562570750848?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5441200562570750848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5441200562570750848&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5441200562570750848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5441200562570750848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/04/emiliano-subira-aos-ceus.html' title='Emiliano Subirá aos Céus'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SdwCoEE4GII/AAAAAAAAAHM/mD56wSCNPQo/s72-c/DSC01109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-2385528508459978981</id><published>2009-03-27T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T18:36:20.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delegado II</title><content type='html'>Eu sabia que haveria outra oportunidade de escrever sobre o Delegado, mas esta ainda não é a hora de explicar sua origem: hoje é sobre tradução, no aspecto mais profundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em mais uma de suas preleções, o Delegado me falou que, às vezes, se eu for a uma igreja, gostar e me converter, às vezes, poderia salvar quem estivesse ao meu redor. Por exemplo, às vezes, um parente meu que estivesse na iminência de sofrer um acidente, seria poupado por ordem divina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traduzindo, eu concordo com o sumo disso. Neste momento, não quero matar ninguém, portanto ninguém morre. Por ordem minha (eu sendo mais paciente e devoto), hoje vivem todos. Meus amigos de infância, minhas tias-avós corujas, os donos de todas as lojas de doces, as pessoas que apareceram por acidente nas minhas fotos, todos são comigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/Sc0C_yu7urI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W3UtoHZPmMc/s1600-h/DSC02152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317910029968063154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/Sc0C_yu7urI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W3UtoHZPmMc/s200/DSC02152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/Sc0C_yu7urI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W3UtoHZPmMc/s1600-h/DSC02152.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-2385528508459978981?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2385528508459978981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2385528508459978981&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2385528508459978981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2385528508459978981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/03/delegado-ii.html' title='Delegado II'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/Sc0C_yu7urI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W3UtoHZPmMc/s72-c/DSC02152.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-9159863292521222082</id><published>2009-02-27T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T12:16:21.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was a little girl who had a little curl&lt;br /&gt;Right in the middle of her forehead&lt;br /&gt;And when she was good she was very very good&lt;br /&gt;And when she was bad she was horrid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só porque eu andei pensando no tipo de educação que quero passar aos meu filhos. Tirando pela minha, acho que não tem coisa mais estimulante do que poesia. Com estórias em geral eu me lembro de passar muito tempo imaginando um personagem e refletindo sobre suas atitudes. Engraçado como aparecem as idiossincrasias. Eu ainda não tinha muito espelho, mas minhas reações eram de puro fascínio, seja por um tom de voz que dava a algum vilão ou mesmo pela facilidade com que todos os personagens tinham em escolher entre o bem e o mal, se mantendo sempre fiéis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stood on her head in her little trundle bed&lt;br /&gt;And nobody cared worth a flinder.&lt;br /&gt;She screamed and she squalled&lt;br /&gt;And she kicked and she bawled&lt;br /&gt;And she drummed her little heels against the winder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother heard the noise&lt;br /&gt;And thought it was the boys&lt;br /&gt;Playing in the empty attic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she rushed upstairs&lt;br /&gt;And caught her unawares&lt;br /&gt;And spanked her most emphatic.&lt;br /&gt;(Emerson)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-9159863292521222082?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/9159863292521222082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=9159863292521222082&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/9159863292521222082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/9159863292521222082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/there-was-little-girl-who-had-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-5892975812203319694</id><published>2009-02-27T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T03:51:36.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais uma</title><content type='html'>"Pesquisadores descobrem peixe psicodélico com pés"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imaginem as bizarrices que esses caras descobririam se usassem outras partes do corpo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-5892975812203319694?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5892975812203319694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5892975812203319694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5892975812203319694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5892975812203319694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/mais-uma.html' title='Mais uma'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4111481074190453008</id><published>2009-02-27T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T03:46:13.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Noticiário Moderno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;"Morre o homem que matou estudante encontrada morta em São Paulo".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E a polícia, não vai estar investigando o caso?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aliás, para casos de mortos encontrados vivos:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SafR28SuZNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/XujiGwZ0kXQ/s1600-h/untitled2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307441427707225298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SafR28SuZNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/XujiGwZ0kXQ/s200/untitled2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;"...and in the night when the wolves cry out listen close and you can hear me shout"&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/21473274-4111481074190453008?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4111481074190453008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4111481074190453008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4111481074190453008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4111481074190453008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/noticiario-moderno.html' title='Noticiário Moderno'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SafR28SuZNI/AAAAAAAAAG8/XujiGwZ0kXQ/s72-c/untitled2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8037616151704712512</id><published>2009-02-23T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T16:01:34.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Baía dos Piratas</title><content type='html'>Responda: quando foi que você comprou seu último CD?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graças a uma quase-infinidade de programas, desde o finado Napster, e a taxas de acesso à informação de maneira democrática jamais vistas - eu sei, ainda há controle, mas quem procura, amigos, sempre acha -, eu posso dizer que o CD mais recente na minha parca coleção é o Heathen Chemistry, quinto do Oasis, lançado em 2002. E tudo por uma mania besta que eu tinha, essa de ter todos os CDs do Oasis e do Metallica, não importando o absurdo que eles lançassem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manias adolescentes e gosto musical à parte, o fato é que hoje eu tenho, sim, ambas as discografias, mas bato no peito e digo que elas não me pesam no bolso, nem na estante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora me perguntem se eu mediria esforços pra ver essas duas bandas, ou quaisquer outras na minha lista de favoritos, tocarem ao vivo (com o perdão do pleonasmo, mas é que depois do incidente Rock in Rio, nunca se sabe) aqui nas redondezas. Prova disso são os trocentos pilas que desembolsarei pra ver o Iron de perto, com direito a Bruce Dickinson ordenando &lt;em&gt;Scream for me Brasilia!&lt;/em&gt; e tudo mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E um bocado de gente vai responder a esse chamado, comprovando que esse negócio de que "a internet está matando a música" (pelo amor de deus, Gene Simmons!) vai se juntar ao rol desses mitos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O rádio vai destruir a indústria fonográfica;&lt;br /&gt;- A TV vai matar o cinema;&lt;br /&gt;- Gravações em cassete vão matar... a música;&lt;br /&gt;- O VHS vai ser o fim de Hollywood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho muito mais conveniente os artistas consagrados passarem a ouvir seus álbuns mais recentes e se perguntarem se eles é que não estão matando seus objetos de trabalho, mas isso é outra estória.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O fato é que o pessoal do The Pirate Bay é a bola da vez. Estão sob julgamento por manterem o maior site &lt;em&gt;tracker&lt;/em&gt; de torrents do mundo. Mas eles têm uma arma infalível contra a multa possivel e absurdamente multimilionária que receberão: bolsos vazios. É óbvio que eles não ganham um centavo com o que ganham, e como o sistema penal não acompanha a evolução da sociedade (viva!) a um ritmo decente, o fato de eles terem hospedado seu site em diversos servidores ao redor do mundo vai garantir a sobrevivência do projeto, ainda que eles sejam presos, torturados, mortos, ou forçados a usar casacos puma e penteados emo pro resto de suas vidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thepiratebay.org - é o endereço, pra quem não sabe. Recomendo a parte especial sobre o julgamento, onde há notícias e um link pra download - eu preciso dizer gratuito? - do livro deles. Por enquanto, só está disponível em sueco, mas querem apostar que essa massa de internautas que trabalha sem parar e sem salário não vai ter produzido traduções em uma semana? fico no aguardo da versão em inglês pra poder fazer a minha parte tupiniquim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"Hail to the thief!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8037616151704712512?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8037616151704712512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8037616151704712512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8037616151704712512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8037616151704712512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/baia-dos-piratas.html' title='A Baía dos Piratas'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-5528592175259317912</id><published>2009-02-19T03:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T03:34:34.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Delegado I</title><content type='html'>O Delegado é vigia aqui no lugar em que trabalho, e é delegado por conta de uma história curiosa, que vale outro post, porque este aqui é pra contar que&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda manhã eu chego quando ainda só há vigias, e antes mesmo de as faxineiras, determinadas, passarem derrubando cadeiras e pertences das mesas dos colegas em nome da limpeza, e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontro Delegado, de óculos, mergulhado em uma bíblia. É o único objeto que frequenta sua mesa de 1x0,5m, e nota-se que ele não precisa de mais nada, exceto do "bom dia" de quem vem estacionar. Mas ontem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu acionava o alarme do meu carro, quando ele "você já leu esta passagem aqui? olhe só..." e vira o livro de ponta-cabeça pra ele, pra que eu possa ler II Reis 20:10, em que deus "fez retroceder em dez graus a sombra declinante no relógio de Acaz". deve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ter sido impressionante, eu, e ele "isso é que é poder!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, Delegado, o problema hoje é ter sem poder, e em vez de 40 minutos, atrasa-se vidas inteiras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SZ1IWtwf-SI/AAAAAAAAAG0/jPF5Pf2HF1k/s1600-h/relogio_sol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304475491189651746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SZ1IWtwf-SI/AAAAAAAAAG0/jPF5Pf2HF1k/s200/relogio_sol.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;"I hope you had the time of your life"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-5528592175259317912?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5528592175259317912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5528592175259317912&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5528592175259317912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5528592175259317912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/delegado-i.html' title='Delegado I'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SZ1IWtwf-SI/AAAAAAAAAG0/jPF5Pf2HF1k/s72-c/relogio_sol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8067820069398969921</id><published>2009-02-07T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T16:55:46.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cente-se</title><content type='html'>Bem-vindos ao centésimo post. É bem especial, só pra avisar que eu não morri, nem matei. E que vou parar de tentar e voltar a escrever. Talvez, em pouco tempo, deitado numa rede. Oremos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;"Palavra do senhor: vamos"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8067820069398969921?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8067820069398969921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8067820069398969921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8067820069398969921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8067820069398969921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2009/02/cente-se.html' title='Cente-se'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-5787891587491266901</id><published>2008-10-21T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T19:03:38.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mini, ainmal</title><content type='html'>Keep me simple&lt;br /&gt;Do things come back to haunt me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wires batteries and leds indicating&lt;br /&gt;What I shouldn't have gone for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet reproducing, recreating&lt;br /&gt;Such beautiful feelings&lt;br /&gt;Such beautiful things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;"In skating over thin ice our safety is in our speed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-5787891587491266901?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5787891587491266901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5787891587491266901&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5787891587491266901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5787891587491266901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/10/mini-ainmal.html' title='Mini, ainmal'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7506350925549318378</id><published>2008-10-06T20:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T20:17:49.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu também</title><content type='html'>A cidade, de quente e rápida,&lt;br /&gt;Quer, mas não consegue,&lt;br /&gt;Chover&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7506350925549318378?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7506350925549318378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7506350925549318378&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7506350925549318378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7506350925549318378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/10/eu-tambm.html' title='Eu também'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4807445678621306942</id><published>2008-07-08T15:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:54:23.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whisper</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/485a6332f5b8b3ba/4873f01d8568148e/485fefda49db0b56/1efa5486/widget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4807445678621306942?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4807445678621306942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4807445678621306942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4807445678621306942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4807445678621306942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/07/whisper.html' title='A Whisper'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4324110462013593605</id><published>2008-06-30T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T16:47:57.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiota</title><content type='html'>A gente tem direito&lt;br /&gt;Utiliza todo o espaço que nos é dado:&lt;br /&gt;Eu pago meus impostos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se esquece, porém&lt;br /&gt;Das arestas que, outrora&lt;br /&gt;Serviam para encaixar=nos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eis que&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo andando&lt;br /&gt;Cada um na sua linha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Machucamo-nos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hey, man, slow down"&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/21473274-4324110462013593605?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4324110462013593605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4324110462013593605&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4324110462013593605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4324110462013593605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/06/idiota.html' title='Idiota'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1537183143892893787</id><published>2008-06-11T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T07:16:29.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abaixo o close</title><content type='html'>Tire já esse close daí!&lt;br /&gt;E leve junto seu ímpeto desconstrutivo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não precisa mostrar o rio salgado&lt;br /&gt;Bom mesmo é ver um ponto brilhante no rosto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E imaginar o turbilhão de sentimentos, as dúvidas&lt;br /&gt;As lembranças e arrependimentos&lt;br /&gt;Da moça que parte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se é que ela chora.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1537183143892893787?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1537183143892893787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1537183143892893787&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1537183143892893787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1537183143892893787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/06/abaixo-o-close.html' title='Abaixo o close'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-7638257773737285421</id><published>2008-06-11T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T07:08:48.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conselho</title><content type='html'>Fetichizamentalização&lt;br /&gt;Reificacionalizamento&lt;br /&gt;Mercantilizativagamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois, não reclame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7638257773737285421?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7638257773737285421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7638257773737285421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7638257773737285421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7638257773737285421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/06/conselho.html' title='Conselho'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8807039708634687080</id><published>2008-06-04T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T20:27:32.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Personagem</title><content type='html'>Ele limpa vidraças, o Humberto. No início tinha medo de ficar o dia inteiro pendurado na cadeirinha, ficava tonto. Depois foi melhorando. Talvez tenha sacado que o céu dele era o chão de outras pessoas, e passou a limpar indignado, andar por andar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andar por andar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8807039708634687080?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8807039708634687080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8807039708634687080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8807039708634687080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8807039708634687080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/06/personagem.html' title='Personagem'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-3533940982174896776</id><published>2008-05-15T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T21:14:22.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anatomia da Desventura</title><content type='html'>Tenho pulmões de um gigante&lt;br /&gt;E uma voz de papagaio&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-3533940982174896776?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/3533940982174896776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=3533940982174896776&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3533940982174896776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3533940982174896776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/05/anatomia-da-desventura.html' title='Anatomia da Desventura'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-4940122112030971704</id><published>2008-05-12T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T19:15:35.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A conta</title><content type='html'>Só serve metade&lt;br /&gt;mediocridade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma parte de mim é boa&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que ousa&lt;br /&gt;obedecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oitenta e cinco , nove por cento&lt;br /&gt;A favor do fim&lt;br /&gt;Do fim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.elections.org.nz/files/well-crowd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.elections.org.nz/files/well-crowd.jpg" alt="" 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/21473274-4940122112030971704?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4940122112030971704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4940122112030971704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4940122112030971704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4940122112030971704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/05/conta.html' title='A conta'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7462977713449058639</id><published>2008-05-11T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T08:19:04.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nu Mundo - Acalanto</title><content type='html'>Não perdeste nada:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choro como vocabulário&lt;br /&gt;Incontinência&lt;br /&gt;Provas bimestrais&lt;br /&gt;Primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;Carro&lt;br /&gt;Diploma&lt;br /&gt;Emprego&lt;br /&gt;Maridoefilhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com tudo isso, tem gente&lt;br /&gt;Cara-de-pau&lt;br /&gt;Que não vive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7462977713449058639?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7462977713449058639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7462977713449058639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7462977713449058639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7462977713449058639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/05/nu-mundo-acalanto.html' title='Nu Mundo - Acalanto'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-2669150797245540899</id><published>2008-05-05T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T06:11:09.177-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alta Fidelidade'/><title type='text'>1 - Um chiclete no ouvido</title><content type='html'>Assim, sem maiores explicações, meu top 5 de músicas-com-refrão-que-gruda, mas que não rola de cantar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Shivaree - It got all black&lt;br /&gt;2) Jason Mraz - Please don't tell her&lt;br /&gt;3) Keane - Bedshaped&lt;br /&gt;4) Queen - Bicycle race (não é bem o refrão, mas...)&lt;br /&gt;5) Foo Fighters - The deepest blues are black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso dizer que vale a pena ouvir todas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-2669150797245540899?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2669150797245540899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2669150797245540899&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2669150797245540899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2669150797245540899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/05/1-um-chiclete-no-ouvido.html' title='1 - Um chiclete no ouvido'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-9183703946711613426</id><published>2008-04-28T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T09:13:14.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>70 anos de Elegia</title><content type='html'>Trabalho sem alegria para um mundo caduco,&lt;br /&gt;onde as formas e as ações não encerram nenhum exemplo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Pratico laboriosamente os gestos universais,&lt;br /&gt;sinto calor e frio, falta de dinheiro, fome e desejo sexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heróis enchem os parques da cidade em que me arrasto,&lt;br /&gt;e preconizam a virtude, a renúncia, o sangue-frio, a concepção.&lt;br /&gt;À noite, se neblina, abrem guarda-chuvas de bronze&lt;br /&gt;ou se recolhem aos volumes de sinistras bibliotecas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo a noite pelo poder de aniquilamento que encerra&lt;br /&gt;e sei que, dormindo, os problemas me dispensam de morrer.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o terrível despertar prova a existência da Grande Máquina&lt;br /&gt;e me repõe, pequenino, em face de indecifráveis palmeiras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminho entre mortos e com eles converso&lt;br /&gt;sobre coisas do tempo futuro e negócios do espírito.&lt;br /&gt;A literatura estragou minhas melhores horas de amor.&lt;br /&gt;Ao telefone perdi muito, muitíssimo tempo de semear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coração orgulhoso, tenho pressa de confessar minha derrota&lt;br /&gt;e adiar para outro século a felicidade coletiva.&lt;br /&gt;Aceito a chuva, a guerra, o desemprego e a injusta distribuição&lt;br /&gt;porque não posso, sozinho, dinamitar a ilha de Manhattan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SBX04nYE4EI/AAAAAAAAADo/Rh7R45O-HBQ/s1600-h/gessinger_150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SBX04nYE4EI/AAAAAAAAADo/Rh7R45O-HBQ/s200/gessinger_150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194326998721552450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" &gt;Quê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-9183703946711613426?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/9183703946711613426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=9183703946711613426&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/9183703946711613426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/9183703946711613426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/04/70-anos-de-elegia.html' title='70 anos de Elegia'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SBX04nYE4EI/AAAAAAAAADo/Rh7R45O-HBQ/s72-c/gessinger_150.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7760140949451914349</id><published>2008-04-20T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T12:03:31.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tem gente que se esforça para esconder a roupa suja, os dentes tortos, a mão sem um dedo, o cabelo crespo, o olhar estrábico, a cor da pele, o nariz assimétrico, as orelhas de abano, a barriga de cerveja, o porte pouco atlético, o amor da vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Felizmente tem gente que não se importa. Não procura abrigo nos defeitos dos outros, por isso enxerga a perfeição nesse nosso jeito caótico de ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SAuTXrPZKzI/AAAAAAAAADg/8EyyJ4WOkIM/s1600-h/Simpsons_Scream_Lo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SAuTXrPZKzI/AAAAAAAAADg/8EyyJ4WOkIM/s200/Simpsons_Scream_Lo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191405030428191538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, se soubessem como caretas ficam&lt;br /&gt;ainda mais feias&lt;br /&gt;atrás de máscaras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"trying to look like you don't try"&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/21473274-7760140949451914349?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7760140949451914349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7760140949451914349&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7760140949451914349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7760140949451914349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/04/tem-gente-que-se-esfora-para-esconder.html' title=''/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/SAuTXrPZKzI/AAAAAAAAADg/8EyyJ4WOkIM/s72-c/Simpsons_Scream_Lo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-3332729359179948538</id><published>2008-04-03T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T19:54:46.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sereu</title><content type='html'>Quando eu nasci já tinha meio mundo&lt;br /&gt;De gente me esperando&lt;br /&gt;De gente esperando&lt;br /&gt;A esperança nascer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu saí, corri, caí e chorei&lt;br /&gt;Até quase nada pra mim&lt;br /&gt;Ter cara de primeira vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora eu, esperando pelo mundo sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Me bate a impressão&lt;br /&gt;De ter errado o caminho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R_WX7JOyFXI/AAAAAAAAADM/O6UOZo-hiWQ/s1600-h/potential_kinetic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R_WX7JOyFXI/AAAAAAAAADM/O6UOZo-hiWQ/s200/potential_kinetic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185217588332991858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" &gt;"It's just the end of the world"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-3332729359179948538?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/3332729359179948538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=3332729359179948538&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3332729359179948538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3332729359179948538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/04/sereu.html' title='Sereu'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R_WX7JOyFXI/AAAAAAAAADM/O6UOZo-hiWQ/s72-c/potential_kinetic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1405758054307026328</id><published>2008-03-18T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T20:30:59.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dois Pontos de Bicicleta</title><content type='html'>"Quando se está rápido demais, todo vento é contra"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Esse vento fui eu que fiz, com essas pernas que o vento há de levar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R-CH3UNm4_I/AAAAAAAAADE/rSkvb2fbADM/s1600-h/Mapa.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179288955864409074" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R-CH3UNm4_I/AAAAAAAAADE/rSkvb2fbADM/s200/Mapa.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Quanto vale a distância de A até B num dia de sol e pouco trânsito?&lt;br /&gt;E de B até A numa noite de céu estrelado?&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/21473274-1405758054307026328?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1405758054307026328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1405758054307026328&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1405758054307026328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1405758054307026328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/03/dois-pontos-de-bicicleta.html' title='Dois Pontos de Bicicleta'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R-CH3UNm4_I/AAAAAAAAADE/rSkvb2fbADM/s72-c/Mapa.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7004925924654754495</id><published>2008-03-14T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T20:21:06.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>84 x 80, pra eles.</title><content type='html'>Eu sempre gosto de dizer que não torço pela vitória em si: se o jogo for bom, a consciência aplaude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9s_ikNm4-I/AAAAAAAAAC8/M3Gan8uf7zg/s1600-h/Ginobili.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9s_ikNm4-I/AAAAAAAAAC8/M3Gan8uf7zg/s200/Ginobili.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177802059661370338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;The moment I step up there, I win&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/21473274-7004925924654754495?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7004925924654754495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7004925924654754495&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7004925924654754495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7004925924654754495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/03/84-x-80-pra-eles.html' title='84 x 80, pra eles.'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9s_ikNm4-I/AAAAAAAAAC8/M3Gan8uf7zg/s72-c/Ginobili.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-566112538217344562</id><published>2008-03-12T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T20:21:51.926-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caramba</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Alberto não faz o que quer. Ele espera a morte chegar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chegar, não: avisar que vem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Então virão dias felizes, em que ele irá aproveitar cada segundo, de alegria e tristeza como uma coisa só, e sua vida não vai parar, não vai acabar, e todos vão se lembrar do cara bacana que ele foi, e...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas Alberto, você &lt;em&gt;está&lt;/em&gt; morrendo, todos nós sabemos disso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cedo ou tarde, meu caro, você vai. Você está para o pó como os minutos para os anos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem choro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9faDkNm48I/AAAAAAAAACs/qf5mWBdf3P8/s1600-h/3d_optical_art_from_mathes.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176846051480888258" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9faDkNm48I/AAAAAAAAACs/qf5mWBdf3P8/s200/3d_optical_art_from_mathes.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"Do we know when we fly?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-566112538217344562?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/566112538217344562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=566112538217344562&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/566112538217344562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/566112538217344562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/03/caramba.html' title='Caramba'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R9faDkNm48I/AAAAAAAAACs/qf5mWBdf3P8/s72-c/3d_optical_art_from_mathes.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4202393967558721979</id><published>2008-03-04T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T17:29:01.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(c)oração</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A cada coração&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que se ponha no lugar dos outros&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pra saber mais de si.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R833Iq7icVI/AAAAAAAAACk/cPU8nRdmZZc/s1600-h/Swirl%2520Mandala.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174063275253592402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R833Iq7icVI/AAAAAAAAACk/cPU8nRdmZZc/s200/Swirl%2520Mandala.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4202393967558721979?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4202393967558721979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4202393967558721979&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4202393967558721979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4202393967558721979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/03/corao.html' title='(c)oração'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R833Iq7icVI/AAAAAAAAACk/cPU8nRdmZZc/s72-c/Swirl%2520Mandala.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-5540457301513651027</id><published>2008-03-03T15:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T17:20:35.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Socialista, eu?</title><content type='html'>"De cada um conforme sua capacidade; a cada um conforme sua necessidade"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É lógico, óbvio, claro que não dá pra aplicar, eu sei, eu sei. Mas por diversas vezes, experiências de trabalho me ligam a esse mote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje foram cadeiras. 950 ca-dei-ras. Precisavam ir de depósitos a um auditório, em questão de horas, e nos eventos do governo as pessoas passam tanto tempo organizando a coisa que esquecem que o público não merece ouvir horas de discursos político-informativos com os pés ou bundas no chão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então foi formada a equipe. Alguns levaram mais tempo para entender o esquema meio "linha de produção", mas depois de meia hora carrinhos vazios e cheios de cadeiras se cruzavam nos corredores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O legal disso tudo foi: os que tinham problemas no ombro só empurravam os carrinhos; os que tinham problemas na coluna coordenavam o &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;timing&lt;/span&gt; e o alinhamento das fileiras; e os que não tinham impedimentos faziam o trabalho braçal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por alguns instantes, a coisa funcionou. Ninguém queria saber do grau de instrução, dos números no contracheque, nem da cor de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R8yNxs9l5BI/AAAAAAAAACc/2OeuxYodZro/s1600-h/DSC01420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173665956964459538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R8yNxs9l5BI/AAAAAAAAACc/2OeuxYodZro/s200/DSC01420.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,204,204)"&gt;"The powerful play goes on. And you may contribute a verse."&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/21473274-5540457301513651027?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5540457301513651027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5540457301513651027&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5540457301513651027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5540457301513651027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/03/socialista-eu.html' title='Socialista, eu?'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R8yNxs9l5BI/AAAAAAAAACc/2OeuxYodZro/s72-c/DSC01420.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8986136091265624234</id><published>2008-02-20T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T11:37:56.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fever</title><content type='html'>"Vivemos em um mundo fundamentalmente injusto."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As pessoas são ambiciosas por natureza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Revoluções só levam outro tipo de elite ao poder."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu tento ser uma pessoa decente e honesta."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu lutei para merecer o dinheiro que ganho."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se alguma(s) dessas coisas já lhe passou (aram) pela cabeça, por favor, assista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R7yaHgdS6iI/AAAAAAAAACU/xxDcBRKwhkQ/s1600-h/fever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169175926077057570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R7yaHgdS6iI/AAAAAAAAACU/xxDcBRKwhkQ/s200/fever.jpg" 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/21473274-8986136091265624234?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8986136091265624234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8986136091265624234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8986136091265624234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8986136091265624234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/02/fever.html' title='The Fever'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R7yaHgdS6iI/AAAAAAAAACU/xxDcBRKwhkQ/s72-c/fever.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7214939735032856469</id><published>2008-02-05T14:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T14:24:09.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Virtuose</title><content type='html'>Enquanto isso, num show do MPB4:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...o problema é que eles não têm muito espaço pra improvisar no vocal"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curiosamente, no entanto, há mérito também em respeitar e se encaixar na ordem das coisas. &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pertencer&lt;/em&gt;, enfim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E Magro, Aquiles, Miltinho e Dalmo Medeiros, como um só: "Eu sei que posso contar com vocês"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7214939735032856469?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7214939735032856469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7214939735032856469&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7214939735032856469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7214939735032856469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/02/virtuose.html' title='Virtuose'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-4838377985296771529</id><published>2008-02-04T04:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T04:57:26.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna play?</title><content type='html'>Você termina o nível básico com a maior facilidade.&lt;br /&gt;Antes de começar o difícil, não dá medo?&lt;br /&gt;"É pra isso que existe o intermediário", vocês me dizem.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o mundo não vem com etiqueta,&lt;br /&gt;E a toda hora pulamos algumas etapas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R6cKgWDo-QI/AAAAAAAAACM/wvvLi2qY28A/s1600-h/Gonsalves_UnfinishedPuzzle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163107048596502786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R6cKgWDo-QI/AAAAAAAAACM/wvvLi2qY28A/s200/Gonsalves_UnfinishedPuzzle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;"o seu exército invadiu o meu país"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4838377985296771529?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4838377985296771529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4838377985296771529&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4838377985296771529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4838377985296771529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2008/02/wanna-play.html' title='Wanna play?'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R6cKgWDo-QI/AAAAAAAAACM/wvvLi2qY28A/s72-c/Gonsalves_UnfinishedPuzzle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-3316337625377093163</id><published>2007-12-27T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T19:34:04.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weather Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Primeiro o nível lingüístico da coisa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu quero dizer que gostei, sim, da tradução do título desse filme: O Sol de Cada Manhã. O nosso "Tempo" português é mais abrangente, e já existe um outro filme com esse nome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois, o drama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"O Sol de cada manhã", além de fazer óbvia referência à meteorologia, é um ícone do prenúncio de um dia. Um dia, o nosso bloco de tempo favorito, que deixamos escapar invariavelmente, aproveitado ou não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um dia eu acordei e tinha 20 anos, e um dia eu vou acordar com 30, e o sol vai ser minha medalha ou meu carrasco, porque, como disse Spritz no filme, a vida não passa de um funil. O horizonte de possibilidades que vemos ao nascer vai se encurtando. Gente três anos mais nova que eu, por exemplo, já ganha milhões para jogar basquete.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isso deve explicar a fase &lt;em&gt;flaneur&lt;/em&gt;, mas é bom que seja passageiro. Não dá pra viver se esquivando. De mim, inclusive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3RtTCeaptI/AAAAAAAAACE/8heXCFNmoSQ/s1600-h/5850_18435410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148860447840708306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3RtTCeaptI/AAAAAAAAACE/8heXCFNmoSQ/s200/5850_18435410.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;"...and all the possibilities I faced and the sorts of people I could be, all of them got reduced every year to fewer and fewer. Until finally they got reduced to one, to who I am. And that's who I am, the weather man."&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/21473274-3316337625377093163?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/3316337625377093163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=3316337625377093163&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3316337625377093163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3316337625377093163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/12/weather-man.html' title='The Weather Man'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3RtTCeaptI/AAAAAAAAACE/8heXCFNmoSQ/s72-c/5850_18435410.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-2255793589998409831</id><published>2007-12-26T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T12:03:25.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O nó da vida mal-passada</title><content type='html'>I am wondering: yesterday seemed &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow seems&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Better&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Tenham um... ano novo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3KzQieappI/AAAAAAAAABo/G7ZQ7lfdSNQ/s1600-h/DSC00001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148374420751558290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3KzQieappI/AAAAAAAAABo/G7ZQ7lfdSNQ/s200/DSC00001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/21473274-2255793589998409831?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2255793589998409831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2255793589998409831&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2255793589998409831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2255793589998409831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/12/o-n-da-vida-mal-passada.html' title='O nó da vida mal-passada'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/R3KzQieappI/AAAAAAAAABo/G7ZQ7lfdSNQ/s72-c/DSC00001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-5809352003706224550</id><published>2007-12-20T04:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T07:10:45.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Agonia by Wikipedia &amp; Oswaldão</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Agonia é o conjunto de fenômenos que anunciam a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Morte" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morte"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;morte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (do grego agonia= luta; entende-se &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Luta" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luta"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;luta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; "contra a morte") &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Por mais que eu me esforçasse&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Tem duração variável e caracteriza-se pela imobilidade e alteração das &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Rosto" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosto"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;feições&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, por estertor ruidoso de que o moribundo parece não ter &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Consciência" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consci%C3%AAncia"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;consciência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, perturbação dos sentidos em geral, lividez, secura da língua, fraqueza do pulso, extinção gradual do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Calor" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calor"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;calor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Animal" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; da periferia para o centro &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;eu não conseguiria&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Respiração" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Respira%C3%A7%C3%A3o"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;respiração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; é difícil e imperceptível, parece à primeira vista ser a última a terminar, sendo talvez por isso que geralmente se emprega expirar como sinônimo de morrer; mas,na realidade, o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Coração" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;eu sei que vou morrer um pouco a cada dia&lt;/span&gt; merece o epíteto que a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Ciência" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ci%C3%AAncia"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ciência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; lhe deu:ultimum moriens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;A agonia pode ser tranqüila, mas quase sempre o moribundo é agitado por &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Convulsão" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convuls%C3%A3o"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;movimentos convulsivos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, mais ou menos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Violência" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viol%C3%AAncia"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;violentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;: o &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Delírio" href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Del%C3%ADrio"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;delírio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; pode ser contínuo e intermitente &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;eu vou pensar que é festa, vou dançar, cantar&lt;/span&gt;. Um período de aparente serenidade precede o termo final. É a melhora da morte, segundo a frase popular.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;...e sem que se perceba, a gente se encontra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-5809352003706224550?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/5809352003706224550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=5809352003706224550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5809352003706224550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/5809352003706224550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/12/agonia-by-wikipedia-oswaldo.html' title='Agonia by Wikipedia &amp; Oswaldão'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-6860383664923659474</id><published>2007-12-05T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T15:16:22.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigam-me os...</title><content type='html'>Sabe esses dias em que a gente inventa de correr? pois esse dia eu inventei, mas essa história, não:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estava quase chegando em casa, pingando de suor, quando uma moça desconhecida:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Tava correndo, caminhando?&lt;br /&gt;- Pois é!&lt;br /&gt;- Ah, isso é bom pra saúde, continue assim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horas depois eu contei o acontecido a alguns amigos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Então, esse mundo tem salvação! uma mulher mó simpática puxou papo, perguntando se eu tinha ido caminhar, e abriu mó sorrisão sincero!&lt;br /&gt;- Peraí, é uma de cabelo preto curto, de óculos e olho verde?&lt;br /&gt;- Rapaz, era sim, por quê?&lt;br /&gt;- Porque ela é uma doida que mora aqui na quadra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Suspeitei desde o princípio"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-6860383664923659474?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/6860383664923659474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=6860383664923659474&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6860383664923659474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6860383664923659474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/12/sigam-me-os.html' title='Sigam-me os...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-7719398693581767075</id><published>2007-11-18T06:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T06:10:33.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feliz dia Internacional do Xadrez</title><content type='html'>Esse ano quase todo mundo fez confusão com o dia do meu aniversário. Não sei o motivo, mas isso nunca tinha acontecido. Se não existirem coincidências, eu vou tomar como só mais um &lt;em&gt;sinal dos tempos &lt;/em&gt;e proceder à velha faxina&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A todos, obrigado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7719398693581767075?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7719398693581767075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7719398693581767075&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7719398693581767075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7719398693581767075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/11/feliz-dia-internacional-do-xadrez.html' title='Feliz dia Internacional do Xadrez'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-172711651385124040</id><published>2007-11-17T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T07:44:42.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dependendo da febre...</title><content type='html'>...so(,) fast(,) I burn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...(en)tão(,) rápido(,) eu queimo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-172711651385124040?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/172711651385124040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=172711651385124040&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/172711651385124040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/172711651385124040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/11/dependendo-da-febre.html' title='Dependendo da febre...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-1320034875112748692</id><published>2007-11-08T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T04:13:36.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando Shakespeare foi ao Ceará</title><content type='html'>"Ô, meu filho, eu não sei nem o que lhe dizer. Tome aqui um bolinho com coca que melhora"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...e todas as lacerações da alma, dúvidas da existência e doenças do ser eram aplacadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RzNpdlTzRsI/AAAAAAAAABY/mkkisDQuXqM/s1600-h/DSC02371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130560357457413826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RzNpdlTzRsI/AAAAAAAAABY/mkkisDQuXqM/s200/DSC02371.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"A nata do lixo, o luxo da aldeia"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1320034875112748692?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1320034875112748692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1320034875112748692&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1320034875112748692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1320034875112748692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/11/quando-shakespeare-foi-ao-cear.html' title='Quando Shakespeare foi ao Ceará'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RzNpdlTzRsI/AAAAAAAAABY/mkkisDQuXqM/s72-c/DSC02371.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1738242041265576597</id><published>2007-10-27T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T11:29:32.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Se não fosse assim, seria diferente</title><content type='html'>A escala musical é limitada, e todo mundo sabe qual será o próximo acorde; o tema abordado nas letras é igualmente restrito; o estilo com que artistas e fãs do gênero se vestem não muda há décadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse caso eu falo do Blues, mas quem pensou em outro ritmo não errou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gente escolhe no que acredita, mas é bom lembrar que o mundo não é tão variado quanto parece. A toda hora a mesma mensagem nos é transmitida de maneiras diferentes, então não mate ou morra por qualquer coisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto de guitarras distorcidas com as quais lamentam-se os blues. Gosto dos &lt;em&gt;breaks&lt;/em&gt;, do final arrastado e da cadência. Mas não faz muita diferença: o que importa é que todos estimulem essa coisa que nos une, do jeito que lhes convém.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1738242041265576597?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1738242041265576597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1738242041265576597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1738242041265576597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1738242041265576597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/se-no-fosse-assim-seria-diferente.html' title='Se não fosse assim, seria diferente'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7325993849715528379</id><published>2007-10-26T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T10:54:51.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gente que pára no sinal</title><content type='html'>A gente não precisa de atenção&lt;br /&gt;Sério&lt;br /&gt;Só precisa pensar que somos capazes de atraí-la&lt;br /&gt;E brincar com as possibilidades.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7325993849715528379?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7325993849715528379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7325993849715528379&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7325993849715528379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7325993849715528379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/gente-que-pra-no-sinal.html' title='Gente que pára no sinal'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7801784934499368232</id><published>2007-10-26T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T10:50:32.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vertigem</title><content type='html'>É difícil levar a vida a sério&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O&lt;br /&gt;lh&lt;br /&gt;ando da&lt;br /&gt;qui de cima.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7801784934499368232?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7801784934499368232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7801784934499368232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7801784934499368232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7801784934499368232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/vertigem.html' title='Vertigem'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-709305831626807157</id><published>2007-10-22T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T20:04:44.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5JGrPMh2NUU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5JGrPMh2NUU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando os pontos se entortam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-709305831626807157?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/709305831626807157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=709305831626807157&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/709305831626807157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/709305831626807157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-if.html' title='What if?'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-3766244116738293261</id><published>2007-10-20T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T09:42:59.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Por decreto</title><content type='html'>Meus dias têm ganho algumas horas&lt;br /&gt;Mas todas se ocupam rapidamente&lt;br /&gt;Em serem ocupadas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-3766244116738293261?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/3766244116738293261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=3766244116738293261&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3766244116738293261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/3766244116738293261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/por-decreto.html' title='Por decreto'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8498116039022264126</id><published>2007-10-19T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T19:07:43.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salto</title><content type='html'>Um céu escuro chovendo por nuvens&lt;br /&gt;Como se a cidade inteira&lt;br /&gt;Quisesse me imitar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8498116039022264126?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8498116039022264126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8498116039022264126&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8498116039022264126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8498116039022264126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/salto.html' title='Salto'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8206674602407859161</id><published>2007-10-07T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T11:51:49.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now playing</title><content type='html'>I might end up somewhere in Mexico&lt;br /&gt;When I find...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwkqGyH-WBI/AAAAAAAAABE/g34XDre2gm8/s1600-h/060928-locusts-mexico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118668747506079762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwkqGyH-WBI/AAAAAAAAABE/g34XDre2gm8/s200/060928-locusts-mexico.jpg" 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/21473274-8206674602407859161?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8206674602407859161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8206674602407859161&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8206674602407859161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8206674602407859161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/now-playing.html' title='Now playing'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwkqGyH-WBI/AAAAAAAAABE/g34XDre2gm8/s72-c/060928-locusts-mexico.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-6713537167715183934</id><published>2007-10-04T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T20:09:11.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...or upside down?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Stop hating time wasting each other&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwWqqyH-WAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cVZrlt1Wj1o/s1600-h/DSC02688.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117684203562883074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwWqqyH-WAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cVZrlt1Wj1o/s200/DSC02688.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-6713537167715183934?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/6713537167715183934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=6713537167715183934&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6713537167715183934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6713537167715183934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/or-upside-down.html' title='...or upside down?'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RwWqqyH-WAI/AAAAAAAAAA8/cVZrlt1Wj1o/s72-c/DSC02688.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4765776065385130282</id><published>2007-10-02T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T14:07:31.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marromenice</title><content type='html'>A vida (não) mudou;&lt;br /&gt;E se mudasse?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4765776065385130282?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4765776065385130282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4765776065385130282&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4765776065385130282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4765776065385130282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/marromenice.html' title='Marromenice'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-2884912175786875784</id><published>2007-10-01T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T15:08:36.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"...preste atenção"</title><content type='html'>Um dia chove, eu disse&lt;br /&gt;A chuva é certa&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que caia&lt;br /&gt;À noite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tudo é molhar&lt;br /&gt;E não se lembra mais de antes&lt;br /&gt;Brincando, se perde&lt;br /&gt;Um perdão encharcado&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-2884912175786875784?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2884912175786875784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2884912175786875784&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2884912175786875784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2884912175786875784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/10/preste-ateno.html' title='&quot;...preste atenção&quot;'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7347005446197714291</id><published>2007-09-28T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T08:59:21.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Só mais uma</title><content type='html'>Aproveitem o embalo de copiar e colar e façam o mesmo aqui:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/"&gt;http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como esse foi menos (quase nada) difundido, é preciso procurar informações pela internet. Não assinem nada sem ler, muito menos depois de dar Ctrl+V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou não façam nada, porque racismo não existe, ou porque umas assinaturas não mudam nada, ou por qualquer outro motivo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valeu, Hugo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-7347005446197714291?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7347005446197714291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7347005446197714291&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7347005446197714291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7347005446197714291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/s-mais-uma.html' title='Só mais uma'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8644747616852771972</id><published>2007-09-28T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T08:48:58.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninguém</title><content type='html'>Mataram Monges em Myanmar&lt;br /&gt;Quem, Myanmar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quer tentar fazer alguma coisa, sem precisar sair de casa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://web.amnesty.org/pages/mmr-270907-action-eng"&gt;http://web.amnesty.org/pages/mmr-270907-action-eng&lt;/a&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;Copie, escreva seu nomezinho embaixo e mande. Ou não, pq vc é só mais um.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8644747616852771972?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8644747616852771972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8644747616852771972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8644747616852771972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8644747616852771972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/ningum.html' title='Ninguém'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-4029463636513688609</id><published>2007-09-26T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T16:15:45.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The animal was gone</title><content type='html'>Pulou, e pularia de novo, não estivesse embaixo;&lt;br /&gt;Até perceber que não há chão que o segure&lt;br /&gt;Quando a vontade for de descer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas um dia ele voa&lt;br /&gt;E eu só espero ainda estar aqui&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4029463636513688609?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4029463636513688609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4029463636513688609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4029463636513688609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4029463636513688609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/animal-was-gone.html' title='The animal was gone'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-6660478976437784153</id><published>2007-09-26T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T15:56:38.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pesquisa</title><content type='html'>O que você faz com pesquisas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - Sempre respondo&lt;br /&gt;2 - Respondo às vezes&lt;br /&gt;3 - Nem noto&lt;br /&gt;4 - nunca respondo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-6660478976437784153?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/6660478976437784153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=6660478976437784153&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6660478976437784153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6660478976437784153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/pesquisa.html' title='Pesquisa'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-334740529475540877</id><published>2007-09-19T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T15:37:26.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A scanner darkly</title><content type='html'>Esse negócio de perder tempo pensando no que se é não dá muito certo. Pra mim é mais fácil pensar no que me falta. Dá pra tirar um caminhão de conclusões também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;"If I knew it was harmless, I would have killed it myself"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-334740529475540877?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/334740529475540877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=334740529475540877&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/334740529475540877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/334740529475540877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/scanner-darkly.html' title='A scanner darkly'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-2138276991675582627</id><published>2007-09-10T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T15:47:06.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>À velhinha do balcão da padaria</title><content type='html'>Entre numa aula de guitarra&lt;br /&gt;Você não morreu ainda&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser que nem morra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ligue pras amigas e vá dançar forró&lt;br /&gt;Conte a sua vida pros netinhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apaixone-se de novo&lt;br /&gt;Desapaixone-se, reconheça o erro&lt;br /&gt;E apaixone-se de novo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que a vida atrás do balcão&lt;br /&gt;Seja boa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-2138276991675582627?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/2138276991675582627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=2138276991675582627&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2138276991675582627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/2138276991675582627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/velhinha-do-balco-da-padaria.html' title='À velhinha do balcão da padaria'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-799723431774633532</id><published>2007-09-10T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T15:23:17.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Como as distâncias mudam as palavras"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;"Eu, na verdade, sou um menestrel medieval, assombrado com imagens de televisão e pelo que acontece no meu coração. É por isso que essas coisas não deviam ser pura paixão, eu penso."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Desculpem aí.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RuXDk1Bt19I/AAAAAAAAAA0/1vjo-_-5M3c/s1600-h/Sou+eu.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108704389798680530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RuXDk1Bt19I/AAAAAAAAAA0/1vjo-_-5M3c/s200/Sou+eu.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;"My...bad?"&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/21473274-799723431774633532?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/799723431774633532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=799723431774633532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/799723431774633532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/799723431774633532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/como-as-distncias-mudam-as-palavras.html' title='&quot;Como as distâncias mudam as palavras&quot;'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RuXDk1Bt19I/AAAAAAAAAA0/1vjo-_-5M3c/s72-c/Sou+eu.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1118550566851971782</id><published>2007-09-01T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T08:50:30.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons come along...</title><content type='html'>Às vezes parece que a vida escolhe momentos pra mudar. Se dependesse do nosso estado de espirito ou disposição, eu tava calado, mas áreas diferentes das nossas vidas conspiram. Às vezes. Deus? a lua? a coincidência ridícula que é o nosso cotidiano? eu deixo em aberto - &lt;em&gt;and what they leave behind I don't pretend to know...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai dar saudade de dormir depois do almoço? vai dar saudade de penar pra escolher um programa diferente toda tarde? de passar o dia inteiro num estado semi-letárgico? vai. Essas coisas têm importância, e é bom respeitá-las, pra tirar melhor proveito quando voltarem. E não pense que não voltam. &lt;em&gt;Tudo volta.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...&lt;em&gt;let your heart keep time"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1118550566851971782?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1118550566851971782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1118550566851971782&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1118550566851971782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1118550566851971782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/09/seasons-come-along.html' title='Seasons come along...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-6820503003781176493</id><published>2007-08-25T08:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T08:04:01.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Re flexões</title><content type='html'>Feliz cidade&lt;br /&gt;É terna morada&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-6820503003781176493?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/6820503003781176493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=6820503003781176493&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6820503003781176493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/6820503003781176493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/08/re-flexes.html' title='Re flexões'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-8897291885565076624</id><published>2007-08-25T08:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T08:02:40.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conjugado</title><content type='html'>Nós vamos&lt;br /&gt;Vós ides&lt;br /&gt;Eles, idem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-8897291885565076624?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/8897291885565076624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=8897291885565076624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8897291885565076624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/8897291885565076624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/08/conjugado.html' title='Conjugado'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-7083471783240835540</id><published>2007-07-08T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T19:16:28.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu Avô</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Seu Milton, beirando os 80 anos de idade, acordou a vida inteira às 4h da manhã para cuidar da plantação e do gado. Os filhos, criados com o sacrifício e a severidade tão característicos nos lares nordestinos daquela época, puderam todos cursar faculdade na capital.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O tempo foi tirando a disposição do vaqueiro, como ele mesmo se denomina com orgulho, mas fez justiça em esperar que os filhos pudessem retribuir os cuidados dispensados pelo agora velho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uma vez por semana, minha mãe, por telefone, dá a boa notícia de que os netos (eu e minha irmã) passaram no vestibular. E ele se alegra. "Oh, que beleza! os netos do vaqueiro subindo na vida!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje, porém, a coisa foi um pouco diferente: ele não lembrou do neto mais velho, coincidentemente, este que vos escreve. Perguntou se As filhAs da minha mãe haviam passado no vestibular. A alegria foi a mesma ao saber da resposta, mas quase deu pra ver o homem se desfazendo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou esquecemos, ou somos esquecidos, ou as duas coisas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RpGaRA4ML2I/AAAAAAAAAAs/j9kVciVC5DM/s1600-h/turma101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085015071362133858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RpGaRA4ML2I/AAAAAAAAAAs/j9kVciVC5DM/s200/turma101.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;"Remember, remember"&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/21473274-7083471783240835540?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/7083471783240835540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=7083471783240835540&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7083471783240835540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/7083471783240835540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/07/meu-av.html' title='Meu Avô'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RpGaRA4ML2I/AAAAAAAAAAs/j9kVciVC5DM/s72-c/turma101.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1497375611582693774</id><published>2007-06-17T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T13:10:39.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Notícia curta e inventada:</title><content type='html'>Para facilitar a vida do internauta, agora os endereços dos sites conterão extensões para mostrar a que organização o domínio está filiado, na ordem do menor para o maior.&lt;br /&gt;Alguns exemplos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazenda Esperança, no interior da Bahia: esperança.bahia.acmneto.acm.com.google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rádio comunitária Imperatriz: independentimperatriz.maranhaodosul.familiasarney.com.google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Site oficial do governo: EUAmobrasil.gov.com.google&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E quem tiver dúvida sobre o endereço de algum site sabe muito bem onde procurar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1497375611582693774?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1497375611582693774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1497375611582693774&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1497375611582693774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1497375611582693774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/06/notcia-curta-e-inventada.html' title='Notícia curta e inventada:'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-829306169637852631</id><published>2007-05-08T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T16:30:51.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The girl was stoned...with stones.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aí vai uma notícia multi-facetada:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uma garota de 17 anos foi apedrejada até a morte no Iraque."&lt;br /&gt;Não entendeu? olhemos mais de perto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se a mídia não me engana - e os mais espirituosos diriam que esta seria a primeira vez -, uma garota pertencente ao grupo Yezidi foi espancada e morta por oito ou nove homens (alguns, seus próprios parentes) por volta de 7 de abril em meio a uma multidão na vila de Barzhan, no norte do Iraque. A notícia foi espalhada por meio de vídeos gravados em celulares de testemunhas, posteriormente carregados no YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É claro que eu não precisava assistir a um vídeo desses, mas precisava, entende? e não foi difícil achar, pelas palavras-chave "girl", "islam" e "stoned" (esse último, me apresentando também vários vídeos de adolescentes drogadas em festas de adolescentes, graças à polissemia do termo inglês). Qual não foi minha surpresa ao encontrar, em vez das imagens em si, um vídeo-protesto feito por um de seus &lt;em&gt;uploaders&lt;/em&gt; contra a censura dos vídeos originais. O autor também cita o link de seu site particular, onde disponibilizou o material censurado em &lt;em&gt;Quick Time&lt;/em&gt;, um formato alternativo. (Tópico 1 = censura. Há limites?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não precisava ir tão longe pra ver vídeos tão chocantes. Mas precisava, entende? Alguém aí já viu um apedrejamento? mulheres são condenadas a tal pena com uma certa freqüência (Tópico 2 = cultura. Dá pra falar em machismo?), sempre que, pela cultura local, se configura um "crime contra a honra". No caso da garota Du'a Khalil Aswad, considerou-se que ela traiu e envergonhou sua família ao ter dormido fora de casa por uma noite e ter se envolvido em um romance com um rapaz sunita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoalmente, eu preferi ver cenas borradas pela velocidade com que a câmera-celular se movia. Qualquer coisa mais nítida e eu não sei se teria estômago para escrever isso. O pior é que não adianta tentar apagar uma imagem tão forte. Eu tenho certeza de que quem quer que tenha tido contato com esse vídeo se sentiu presente, testemunha, enjoado e enojado. Correção: qualquer ocidental que tenha visto tal material. Passadas as vertigens, temos de nos lembrar que nem todas as culturas do mundo se pautam pelos ideais humanitários do oeste. Os espirituosos diriam que, capitalistas como somos, não mataríamos um cliente em potencial. Mas não é bem por aí, pois temos pena de morte por aqui também (além da pena de uma vida miserável a que muitos são condenados diariamente). A diferença é que "não dói". (tópico 3 = Cultura. Dá pra comparar?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de a notícia ter corrido o mundo pelo YouTube, os noticiários de todo o mundo resolveram falar também (tópico 4 = pessoas de carne e osso fazendo mídia. Dá pra ser mais rápido e democrático?), o que acabou aumentando o interesse geral pelo assunto. Apesar de os vídeos não mais serem exibidos pelo site, ainda é possível comentar e ler os comentários feitos por internautas. Não é novidade que noventa e cinco por cento deles propagam idéias de vingança e ódio à cultura islâmica, o que, em uma análise mais cética, acaba por dar mais energia à discussão pró/contra a Guerra, já que o fato aconteceu precisamente em solo iraquiano. "I hate muslims, I really do", "They should be the ones being stoned", só pra dar exemplos. (tópico 5 = que cultura é essencialmente boa? e má?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O último, mas não mais importante ponto que eu queria abordar é a intenção de quem considera um evento social digno de ser registrado. Crítica ou Apologia? Não importa muito, eu sei, afinal a coisa foi gravada e agora está nas mãos da História. No entanto, é bastante curioso saber que a sociedade do espetáculo já atingiu proporções globais (com o perdão do trocadilho). Cria-se uma rede mundial onisciente, que presta atenção tanto a apedrejamentos no Leste quanto a festas adolescentes no Oeste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é isso, e é muito mais que isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-829306169637852631?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/829306169637852631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=829306169637852631&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/829306169637852631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/829306169637852631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/05/girl-was-stonedwith-stones.html' title='The girl was stoned...with stones.'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-4267739783605110978</id><published>2007-05-07T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T19:55:45.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vivendo e...</title><content type='html'>Situação-gatilho:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu e dois amigos, uma quadra de basquete, uns arremessos enquanto não chegava um quarto elemento pra formarmos duas duplas e começarmos a pelada. Tinha conversa também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.: Quer dizer que você também entrou na onda da pedofilia?&lt;br /&gt;2.: Eu, por quê?&lt;br /&gt;1.: Ouvi dizer que andou pegando uma menininha de 16!&lt;br /&gt;E.: *arremessando*&lt;br /&gt;2.: Ah, rapaz, é diferente. Peguei uma mulher de 16 anos. O povo lá do interior é assim. Ela já fugiu com homem casado, ficou entocada lá com ele durante um tempão, e já fez mais sexo na vida do que nós três juntos! Já viveu foi muito, tá por fora...&lt;br /&gt;1.: Ah, só...&lt;br /&gt;E.: *arremessando*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá bom, a pergunta inevitável é: como assim, viveu? Quem foi que viveu mais, Kant ou uma prostituta da 315? Me parece que, não fosse o primeiro tão religioso, um encontro entre os dois resultaria na mais culta noite de sexo selvagem já registrada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não é isso o melhor que pode sair de um encontro? ao levarmos esbarrões mundo afora, carregamos as outras pessoas conosco, tornando-as vivas só então.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse sentido, viveu mais quem foi lembrado por mais gente? Digam a Zanir, o mendigo de estimação da minha cidadezinha - Icó-CE - que ele, ex-estudante de medicina, fluente em cinco línguas, uma das mentes mais promissoras até ter sido abandonado pela noiva no altar e "perdido a cabeça"...enfim, digam, digam que ele não viveu porque a cidadezinha não pára de crescer e é provável que sua história se desvie dos ouvidos da próxima geração!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sensação que fica, agora, é a de que os Grandes, eles sim, viveram... mas e quanto à pulsão sexual não-realizada de Fernando Pessoa e tantos outros? Perguntemos nas ruas quanto de suas vidas o tal Povo está disposto a rifar para poder ganhar um lugar ao sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez eles não tenham vivido, mas vivem hoje em dia. E aí, alguém se habilita? ninguém...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusão-degrau: o que mata mesmo é a rotina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Trilha: "Hey Man (Now you're really living) - Eels"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-4267739783605110978?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/4267739783605110978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=4267739783605110978&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4267739783605110978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/4267739783605110978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/05/vivendo-e.html' title='Vivendo e...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-1102882204063600478</id><published>2007-04-08T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T15:51:09.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambrosia Parsley</title><content type='html'>"""Estava em um bar e a vi entrando. Ela é do tipo de mulher que faz qualquer um voltar a cabeça pra ver mais uma vez. Dirigiu-me um sorriso, uma vez que o bar estava quase vazio, e foi direto ao backstage. Minutos depois, subiu com sua banda ao palco e tocou durante uma hora. Durante uma hora eu não soube onde aterrissar, então não o fiz. Ao fim do show ela avisou que havia discos da banda à venda em uma mesa perto da saída, e eu, já de posse da minha cópia, pedi-lhe que autografasse. "Claro", ela disse, "é só desembrulhar o CD". Nunca vi tanta segurança. As mulheres, normalmente, cumprimentam-nos estendendo a mão para que a toquemos de leve. Não Ambrosia. Ela me saudou com um firme aperto de mãos: "Obrigada por ter vindo". "Você foi fantástica", eu. "Obrigada", ela."""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá legal, esbarrei com um texto parecido com esse aí enquanto procurava músicas na net, e resolvi parafraseá-lo e mostrar como não importa o que acontece. Quem se importa com a verdade, quando se pode pensar e chegar às próprias conclusões?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neste mundo há desculpa pra quase tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RhluYQEYMpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AZI-pjkw8u0/s1600-h/3071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051189819981968018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RhluYQEYMpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AZI-pjkw8u0/s200/3071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;"If you don't want for them to hate it 'cause you're beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#999999;"&gt;How can you want them all to love you for the same thing?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-1102882204063600478?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/1102882204063600478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=1102882204063600478&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1102882204063600478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/1102882204063600478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/04/ambrosia-parsley.html' title='Ambrosia Parsley'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_W3WhJrtOhiY/RhluYQEYMpI/AAAAAAAAAAk/AZI-pjkw8u0/s72-c/3071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-116808203252179881</id><published>2007-01-06T02:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T03:13:52.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wealthy Merchant</title><content type='html'>May these winds bring disgrace&lt;br /&gt;I've seen it taste the same&lt;br /&gt;Than the sweetness of glory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking hold of your wrist&lt;br /&gt;Surrounded by tulips&lt;br /&gt;And still yearning for more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2827/2172/1600/396519/Tulip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2827/2172/200/208726/Tulip.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"But what I need is all around me"&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/21473274-116808203252179881?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/116808203252179881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=116808203252179881&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/116808203252179881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/116808203252179881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2007/01/wealthy-merchant.html' title='The Wealthy Merchant'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-115418882249738649</id><published>2006-07-29T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T09:00:22.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Presente</title><content type='html'>Outra cidade, mais árvores, menos árvores&lt;br /&gt;E pessoas, pessoas, pessoas até que&lt;br /&gt;Por acaso&lt;br /&gt;O jeito de dormir passou a importar&lt;br /&gt;E o mais triste dos meios assistiu&lt;br /&gt;Calado, a tudo, por acaso, importar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/fractal03-valanne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/320/fractal03-valanne.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" &gt;"It's just that it's delicate"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-115418882249738649?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/115418882249738649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=115418882249738649&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/115418882249738649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/115418882249738649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/07/presente.html' title='Presente'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-115012868894151376</id><published>2006-06-12T08:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T09:11:28.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma Questão Ideológica</title><content type='html'>Não vou fugir da discussão pró/contra dia dos namorados, mas também não vou ser repetitivo. Pra agradar e contrariar a todos, escrevo uma coisa que não escrevi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;My funny Valentine&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet comic Valentine&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me smile with my heart&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your looks are laughable&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unphotographable&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet you're my favorite work of art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is you figure less than greek?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Is your mouth a little weak?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you open it to speak&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you smart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Don't change a hair for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Not if you care for me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay, little Valentine, stay&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day is Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);font-size:85%;" &gt;(My Funny Valentine - Chet Baker)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Parabéns pra quem conseguiu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paciência pra quem ainda não.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/RedSpheres.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/RedSpheres.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;"Não seriam cartas de amor se não fossem&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/21473274-115012868894151376?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/115012868894151376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=115012868894151376&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/115012868894151376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/115012868894151376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/06/uma-questo-ideolgica_12.html' title='Uma Questão Ideológica'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114956164523480095</id><published>2006-06-05T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T19:40:45.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tragédia e Romance em Só Menor</title><content type='html'>Em nada a cabo&lt;br /&gt;O Q não me enlaça&lt;br /&gt;Levo depois a taco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sim, sem pre&lt;br /&gt;Cis ar te ria&lt;br /&gt;par ti do/a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo em pás:&lt;br /&gt;Mais surpresas&lt;br /&gt;Nunca más&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/fractal42-quander.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/fractal42-quander.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Each day is Valentine's Day"&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/21473274-114956164523480095?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114956164523480095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114956164523480095&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114956164523480095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114956164523480095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/06/tragdia-e-romance-em-s-menor.html' title='Tragédia e Romance em Só Menor'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114857319584847597</id><published>2006-05-25T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T16:53:46.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>floor collapsing</title><content type='html'>An incredible capacity of forgetting whatever&lt;br /&gt;(Why do some patients seem more bothered by symptoms?)&lt;br /&gt;I need in order to lead a normal life. Not better, they say.&lt;br /&gt;(What the hell could they possibly want? 50 white teeth?)&lt;br /&gt;Should be able start over from some specific moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know where you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/green%20light.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/green%20light.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;"That's what they call the green wave"&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/21473274-114857319584847597?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114857319584847597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114857319584847597&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114857319584847597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114857319584847597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/floor-collapsing.html' title='floor collapsing'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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-21473274.post-114833103101993109</id><published>2006-05-22T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T13:51:34.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ball</title><content type='html'>Físicos de um lado&lt;br /&gt;Poetisas de outro&lt;br /&gt;Se envergonham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como foram parar tão longe?&lt;br /&gt;Agora têm de forjar uma guerra&lt;br /&gt;Discutir o assunto entre amigos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a música não pára um segundo&lt;br /&gt;Nada deve parar pra ouvi-los&lt;br /&gt;Os menos inteligentes sabem disso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E são esses os primeiros&lt;br /&gt;A desistir das teses&lt;br /&gt;E do mergulho n'alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, ignorando disposições, expressões e exclamações&lt;br /&gt;Um, dois, um... par&lt;br /&gt;Bem no meio se&lt;br /&gt;Encontra e&lt;br /&gt;Decide&lt;br /&gt;Dançar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/fishermen%20at%20sea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/320/fishermen%20at%20sea.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...merecia a visita, não de militares, mas de bailarinos. E de você e eu."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114833103101993109?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114833103101993109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114833103101993109&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114833103101993109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114833103101993109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/ball.html' title='Ball'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114773406006457618</id><published>2006-05-15T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T16:14:58.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...e outras teorias</title><content type='html'>Já fui muito de olhar as luzes&lt;br /&gt;Enjoei&lt;br /&gt;Piscavam, atraíam, cercavam&lt;br /&gt;E tudo perdia a sombra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arranjei uma mania melhor&lt;br /&gt;Olhar olhos&lt;br /&gt;Do mesmo jeito inocente&lt;br /&gt;Perdido na distância&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a luz deles me diz muito mais&lt;br /&gt;Por não tentar ser forte&lt;br /&gt;Por tentar não brilhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/Blinking%20Lights%20for%20Me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/Blinking%20Lights%20for%20Me.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Blinking down a morse code signal. Especially for me."&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/21473274-114773406006457618?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114773406006457618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114773406006457618&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114773406006457618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114773406006457618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/e-outras-teorias.html' title='...e outras teorias'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114729287386314530</id><published>2006-05-10T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T13:29:56.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cric-tic-oco</title><content type='html'>Às vezes um olhar,  às vezes menos&lt;br /&gt;É o que tenho pra construir meu mundo&lt;br /&gt;E não é por isso que ele é tão meu, oras?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São óculos que ninguém copia nem rouba&lt;br /&gt;De olhos, ouvidos e nariz para boca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E só quem vive pinta, toca e dança&lt;br /&gt;Quadros, músicas e passos em trança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo, me projeto&lt;br /&gt;Falando, me protejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes um olhar, às vezes menos&lt;br /&gt;É o que tenho pra construir meu mundo&lt;br /&gt;E não é por isso que ele é tão seu, oras?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/fractal41-denoscaris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/fractal41-denoscaris.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" &gt;"Que o mel é doce é coisa que me nego a afirmar, mas que parece doce eu afirmo plenamente"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114729287386314530?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114729287386314530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114729287386314530&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114729287386314530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114729287386314530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/cric-tic-oco.html' title='Cric-tic-oco'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114713028925420021</id><published>2006-05-08T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T16:18:09.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L is for Love...</title><content type='html'>You see over me...&lt;br /&gt;I'll never know what you've shown to other eyes&lt;br /&gt;Go or go ahead and surprise me&lt;br /&gt;Say you've led the way to a mirage&lt;br /&gt;Go or go ahead and just try me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But oh, Medusa, kiss me and crucify&lt;br /&gt;This unholy notion of the mythic powers of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;Forget about the ones that are crying&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114713028925420021?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114713028925420021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114713028925420021&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114713028925420021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114713028925420021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/l-is-for-love.html' title='L is for Love...'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114649766392762861</id><published>2006-05-01T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T08:48:36.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra Brazilha</title><content type='html'>10 anos na cidade que me roubou o sotaque&lt;br /&gt;E me deu em troca a primeira vez de muitas coisas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quase metade de uma vida&lt;br /&gt;Que insiste em aprender&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que eu continue quebrando a cara&lt;br /&gt;Minha e de vocês.&lt;br /&gt;Existe maior prova de amor?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114649766392762861?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114649766392762861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114649766392762861&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114649766392762861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114649766392762861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/05/pra-brazilha.html' title='Pra Brazilha'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114610136499922406</id><published>2006-04-26T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T18:29:25.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amplexo</title><content type='html'>Mãos e costelas&lt;br /&gt;Mãos e ombros&lt;br /&gt;Mãos e cintura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orelha e orelha&lt;br /&gt;Pescoço e pescoço&lt;br /&gt;Peito. Barriga, até.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas é tão difícil fazer com que&lt;br /&gt;Os corações se alinhem....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/fractal28-rakkene.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/fractal28-rakkene.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Go or go ahead and surprise me"&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/21473274-114610136499922406?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114610136499922406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114610136499922406&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114610136499922406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114610136499922406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/04/amplexo.html' title='Amplexo'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114598933539577412</id><published>2006-04-25T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T11:22:15.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Para Sua Proteção</title><content type='html'>A verdade não existe&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é permitido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/1600/V2.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2827/2172/200/V2.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Te amo, mesmo sem te conhecer.&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/21473274-114598933539577412?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114598933539577412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114598933539577412&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114598933539577412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114598933539577412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/04/para-sua-proteo.html' title='Para Sua Proteção'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114550369107132292</id><published>2006-04-19T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T20:28:11.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teto Limpo, Chão Sujo - 4 cenas</title><content type='html'>Eu grito:&lt;br /&gt;"Mentiroso! Assassino! Demônio!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E você  responde:&lt;br /&gt;"Presente!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não leve a mal, eu também sou você&lt;br /&gt;Mas pense: que tal?&lt;br /&gt;Gastar um tempinho com o que não gostamos&lt;br /&gt;Mas nos deixa orgulhosos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tirar os olhos do piercing do umbiguinho&lt;br /&gt;E ir trocar de óculos, e ver feridas&lt;br /&gt;(Não há Band-Aid pra todos, queridinho)&lt;br /&gt;Dói no começo... no meio e no fim, também&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o fim nos encontra menos risonhos&lt;br /&gt;Vamos todos sendo e sendo menos imbecis&lt;br /&gt;Com mãos, pés e cabelos sujos de terra&lt;br /&gt;E da altura que tinhamos na cintura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai, se ela me desse bola!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114550369107132292?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114550369107132292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114550369107132292&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114550369107132292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114550369107132292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/04/teto-limpo-cho-sujo-4-cenas.html' title='Teto Limpo, Chão Sujo - 4 cenas'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21473274.post-114539400406048508</id><published>2006-04-18T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T14:00:04.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Incompletude</title><content type='html'>Seguindo a linha que corta a faixa, apresento um veículo que faz doer. &lt;br /&gt;Paz aqui é que não há, muito menos retidão.&lt;br /&gt;E se um'hora algo rimar, desconfie e siga lendo.&lt;br /&gt;Siga lento, que devagar se olha mais e toca mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma arma - a mais arma - enfim, a meu e seu dispor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21473274-114539400406048508?l=cronicamentes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/feeds/114539400406048508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21473274&amp;postID=114539400406048508&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114539400406048508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21473274/posts/default/114539400406048508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cronicamentes.blogspot.com/2006/04/incompletude.html' title='Incompletude'/><author><name>Emiliano Abreu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07437148489070435878</uri><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>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
