<?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-8172943226740411631</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:37:50.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wall</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-5987547823092606397</id><published>2008-12-22T07:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T07:48:58.331-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Depois de uma certa idade voce comeca a achar maneiro pedirem sua identidade em boate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crise dos 20. Oi?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-5987547823092606397?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/5987547823092606397/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=5987547823092606397' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/5987547823092606397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/5987547823092606397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/12/depois-de-uma-certa-idade-voce-comeca.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-5232485694697849532</id><published>2008-12-22T01:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T01:30:43.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Odeio gente estagnada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odeio gente que apenas eh levado pela corrente entediante de sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repulsa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-5232485694697849532?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/5232485694697849532/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=5232485694697849532' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/5232485694697849532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/5232485694697849532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/12/odeio-gente-estagnada.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-3988216879614966181</id><published>2008-09-30T01:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:45:37.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Porque modestia eh tudo nessa vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-3988216879614966181?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/3988216879614966181/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=3988216879614966181' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/3988216879614966181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/3988216879614966181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/porque-modestia-eh-tudo-nessa-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-4450683026960428226</id><published>2008-09-30T01:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:45:23.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A tendencia eh complicar, sempre mais. Porque de alguma forma a vida me complica e me move constantemente, e se eu acreditasse em deus, provavelmente diria que eh obra dele e que ele resolveu que minha vida nao ia ser soh mais uma por aih que ele criou movido pelo tedio e que logo esqueceu, nao, eu diria que fui alguem complexamente trabalhada, fui moldada com muita paciencia e vontade, e que a vida de alguem que deu tanto trabalho nao seria uma vida sem graca, parada e sem obstaculos, seria eu um boneco nas maos divinas que nunca se cansa de brincar e de criar novas aventuras para o seu personagem, aventuras que comecam sem nem se ter ideia de como eu conseguiria me safar delas, mas a graca seria justamente essa e como qualquer crianca que brinca nunca espera o final tragico. Enfim, nao acredito em tal deus, mas eu vou passar por todos os obstaculos, porque no final eu sempre passo, de uma maneira as vezes surreal e sem explicacoes eu chego ao meu objetivo, e que venham mais desafios, sempre que eu concretizar um, dois, todos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-4450683026960428226?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/4450683026960428226/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=4450683026960428226' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4450683026960428226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4450683026960428226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/tendencia-eh-complicar-sempre-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-1092258476345065634</id><published>2008-09-23T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T11:21:35.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Vidrados frente ao espelho,&lt;br /&gt;reflexos que nao se reconhecem.&lt;br /&gt;Padroes que separam o mesmo ser,&lt;br /&gt;e esquecem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-1092258476345065634?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/1092258476345065634/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=1092258476345065634' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/1092258476345065634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/1092258476345065634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/vidrado-frente-ao-espelho-reflexos-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-3478073658966601366</id><published>2008-09-23T10:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T01:54:37.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eu me sinto, constantemente, atrasada. Em relacao a mim mesma, nao em relacao aos outros, sendo meu segundo nome Prepotencia, se comparada com a maioria das pessoas no mundo, acho que eu ate que estou avancadinha. Whatever, vontade de tudo, de conhecer tudo, de saber tudo. Estranhos sao as pessoas estaticas, que se sentem bem onde estao e soh sao obrigadas e mudar de lugar quando alguem as cutuca ou empurra. A questao em si nao eh nem mudar, eh avancar, quero avancar, se existe algo supremo, estar la, e a graca eh justamente nao existir o supremo. Sensacao frequente de tempo perdido, da um no na espinha, e tentar recuperar o inrecuperavel. Me sinto atrasada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-3478073658966601366?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/3478073658966601366/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=3478073658966601366' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/3478073658966601366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/3478073658966601366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/eu-me-sinto-constantemente-atrasada.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-4133557717501366801</id><published>2008-09-23T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T08:16:42.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Costumes e instituicoes, tudo perece."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memorial de Aires, Machado de Assis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-4133557717501366801?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/4133557717501366801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=4133557717501366801' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4133557717501366801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4133557717501366801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/costumes-e-instituicoes-tudo-perece.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-7081358206919129756</id><published>2008-09-22T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:38:27.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Resolucoes de dia 23 de setembro de 2008. Porque eh assim, eu sou assim, imediatista, sem estrategias, sem armar planos para objetivos futuros, ao mesmo tempo que essa atitude faz o ganho perder a graca com a rapidez com que foi conseguido. Tenho paciencia para coisas inuteis que nao requerem paciencia, e atitudes que deveriam ser estudadas e pensadas eu chuto logo o pau da barraca, porque se nao for pra funcionar do meu jeito, pelo menos eh engracado e me diverte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-7081358206919129756?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/7081358206919129756/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=7081358206919129756' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/7081358206919129756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/7081358206919129756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/resolucoes-de-dia-23-de-setembro-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-7024490318293395259</id><published>2008-09-21T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T11:21:00.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E essa estranha amnesia que ocorre com a maioria dos brasileiros que nao conseguem se lembrar nem em quem votou nas ultimas eleicoes, parece ter tomado a mim. Estava a pensar que antes de fotologs e orkuts, quem comandava eram os blogs, sempre em busca da fuchicacao da vida alheia, as pessoas renovaram e continuam renovando, formas mais eficazes de o fazer. No entanto, eu, pobre vitima dessa evolucao, ja nem me lembro mais o que eu escrevia em meu blog. Estaria eu entrando para as estatisticas dos que nao se importam? Embora, devemos convir que a importancia entre lembrar uma coisa e outra seja totalmente diferente. De qualquer forma, veremos no que da isso aqui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-7024490318293395259?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/7024490318293395259/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=7024490318293395259' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/7024490318293395259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/7024490318293395259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/e-essa-estranha-amnesia-que-ocorre-com.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-1205317641917922618</id><published>2008-09-21T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T11:15:03.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Essa vontade de querer ser e parecer Louco, agora mais do que estranhar pessoas que se auto-denominam loucas, imaginando eu que uma pessoa louca mal sabe de sua realidade, me faz pensar que atualmente eh legal ser louco, eh legal ser visto como alguem que quebra regras e paradigmas, mesmo que essa pessoa nao o faca, ela gosta de parecer que faz, um elogio atual, no mais, quem sabe um desses "loucos" seja louco mesmo e consiga mudar algo, se pararmos pra pensar, de um tempo atras ate hoje, alguem precisou se denominar louca para essa moda "louca" pegar, sendo assim, quem sabe o inicio de algo novo e realmente louco, mesmo que essa loucura seja artificial, afinal o importante eh competir, e tentar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-1205317641917922618?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/1205317641917922618/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=1205317641917922618' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/1205317641917922618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/1205317641917922618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/essa-vontade-de-querer-ser-e-parecer.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8172943226740411631.post-4223708671905849435</id><published>2008-09-21T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T08:26:35.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Acho que se eu me conhecesse, ou tivesse conhecimento da minha pessoa, eu provavelmente nao gostaria de mim, ou, dizendo de forma menos tragica, nao iria com a minha cara. No entanto, eu sendo eu, gosto do que sou. Nao sou o tipo de pessoa que eu gostaria, ou ate gostaria se conhecesse a fundo, mas nenhuma de nos duas nos permitiriamos chegar a fundo o suficiente para gostarmos de nos. Como esperar que outros gostem, se nos mesmo nao gostariamos? Estranho gostar de mim, e provavelmente nao gostar. Pensar o que mostraria a mim para me gostar e mostrar aos outros. A diferenca eh que eu tenho a certeza do futuro sem cortes comigo, certeza que nunca temos com outras pessoas. Ou nao, talvez eu ate me sangrasse e acabasse suicidada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8172943226740411631-4223708671905849435?l=rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/feeds/4223708671905849435/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8172943226740411631&amp;postID=4223708671905849435' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4223708671905849435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8172943226740411631/posts/default/4223708671905849435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rabiscandonomuro.blogspot.com/2008/09/acho-que-se-eu-me-conhecesse-ou-tivesse.html' title=''/><author><name>Pink</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
