<?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-33240230</id><updated>2012-02-17T02:15:11.234Z</updated><title type='text'>rockin' days</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-5639561686185102066</id><published>2008-11-02T18:11:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-11-02T18:31:07.159Z</updated><title type='text'>espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O verão acabou e todas as flores estão a murchar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tu tens de ir, tu tens de ir e eu devo ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;mas volta quando o verão estiver na cidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ou quando o vale estiver silencioso e branco com neve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;pois eu estarei aqui, no sol ou na sombra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;minha querida, eu amo.te&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e se voltares, quando as todas as flores murcharem&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e se estiver morto, pois morto poderei estar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vem procurar o sitio onde me deixarem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e conta.me uma aventura até ela acabar&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu a tua suave e bela voz ouvirei&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e sonhos quentes e doces terei&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se tu para dizer que me amas não falhares &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu simplesmente dormirei em paz até tu chegares&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/33240230-5639561686185102066?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/5639561686185102066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=5639561686185102066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5639561686185102066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5639561686185102066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2008/11/o-vero-acabou-e-todas-as-flores-esto.html' title='espera'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-3296202613947090663</id><published>2008-08-10T01:06:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T01:14:29.104+01:00</updated><title type='text'>bah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;nunca mais perdi tempo a escrever neste blog, porque não vale a pena. perco muito tempo em frente ao computador a pensar no que escrever para o blog a procurar uma imagem, deixar tudo perfeito... meh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Perda de tempo digo eu, deixar a minha marca ao publico em geral.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Internet - Partilha grátis de o maior número de informação inútil não filtrada possivel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Normalmente uma pessoa escreve um blog porque tem pessoas que o vão ler, sem amigos ou sem pessoas não existe blog. Como deus sem seguidores, se ninguem acreditar em deus nem ninguem o conhecer entao ele não existe. Teoria da relatividade. Se eu adiantar 10minutos no meu relógio vou estar a viver no futuro?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Para mim aqueles 10minutos já passaram, para vocês não (sim eu adiantei o meu relógio 10minutos se acham isso idiota é porque ainda vivem no passado eheheh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Adoro monólogos, são fantasticos porque não existe criticas (sim escrevi não existe criticas em vez de existem criticas porque não me apetece emendar.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E vamos pensar todos juntos, eu e mais alguns de mim.. ninguem vai ler logo esta mensagem não existe...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;hmmmm.... interessante.&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/33240230-3296202613947090663?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/3296202613947090663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=3296202613947090663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/3296202613947090663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/3296202613947090663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2008/08/bah.html' title='bah'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-1684948805736455785</id><published>2007-12-17T15:33:00.002Z</published><updated>2007-12-17T17:15:33.084Z</updated><title type='text'>cristianismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;cá estou eu para falar sobre mais uma coisa, coisas que leio ou penso, vamos lá falar do cristianismo.. vou já deixar claro que não gosto de concentrações de fé, não sei porquê mas acabam sempre por cheirar mal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;o que é que terá sido pior durante a idade media, falta de higiene? hmm... doenças e fome? dificilmente. a musiquinha irritante que os anões adoravam dançar? quase lá! falemos então do sistema de "justiça" cristão, vamos fazê.lo por ordem decrescente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2an9cDNUjI/AAAAAAAAADQ/D3Gg3qtaBts/s1600-h/tort20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2an9cDNUjI/AAAAAAAAADQ/D3Gg3qtaBts/s200/tort20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144984298260877874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;19. sapatos de penitência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;eram usados usualmente com um pilar que segura a cabeça e os pulsos no lugar enquanto estamos em pé.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;quanto tempo acham que conseguiam ficar na ponta dos pés até terem que descansar os calcanhares naqueles picos hmm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aobsDNUkI/AAAAAAAAADY/pvslDKmIRf8/s1600-h/tort19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 167px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aobsDNUkI/AAAAAAAAADY/pvslDKmIRf8/s200/tort19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144984817951920706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;18. garfo do herege&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;os 4 picos no queixo e no esterno deixavam só movimento sufeciente para murmurar uma confissão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apK8DNUlI/AAAAAAAAADg/Kts-CXiOOwM/s1600-h/tort18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 94px; height: 175px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apK8DNUlI/AAAAAAAAADg/Kts-CXiOOwM/s200/tort18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144985629700739666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;17. banco de afundar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;era usado primáriamente em mulheres (tortura pseudo.sexual) o ocupante era mergulhado num rio durante o tempo que as autoridades achassem necessário.&lt;/span&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;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apgsDNUmI/AAAAAAAAADo/DRqswg36JAQ/s1600-h/tort17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 187px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apgsDNUmI/AAAAAAAAADo/DRqswg36JAQ/s200/tort17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144986003362894434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;16. as botas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;as pernas da victima eram colocadas entre duas placas de madeira e atadas com corda, entre as cordas os torturadores colocavam alavancas nas quais martelavam violentamente, eram colocadas uma dúzia de alavancas e cada vez que martelavam nelas uma parte dos ossos da perna e joelho partia.se. quando as botas eram removidas os fragmentos desfaziam.se em mil bocados e a pele da perna inferior servia apenas como sacos soltos. ugh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apycDNUnI/AAAAAAAAADw/YY8gcNMv1rM/s1600-h/tort15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 170px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2apycDNUnI/AAAAAAAAADw/YY8gcNMv1rM/s200/tort15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144986308305572466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;15. pata de gato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;era simplesmente usado para rasgar lentamente a carne da victima, muitas vezes até ao osso.&lt;/span&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;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqGcDNUoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/7fz535p6wW8/s1600-h/tort14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 115px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqGcDNUoI/AAAAAAAAAD4/7fz535p6wW8/s200/tort14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144986651902956162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;14. a prateleira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;faz exactamente aquilo que parece, puxa a parte de cima e a parte debaixo do corpo até que os membros são deslocados para fora das articulações lentamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqTMDNUpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VMU26w78pVA/s1600-h/tort13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqTMDNUpI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VMU26w78pVA/s200/tort13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144986870946288274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;13. desmemberamento por cavalos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;isto era a prateleira levada a outro nivel, era usado em assassinos e aqueles que tentavam assassinar nobres ou reis. cada membro era atado a um cavalo, os cavalos eram chicoteados ao mesmo tempo para que cada membro saisse do corpo ao mesmo tempo. era um dos favoritos entre a multidão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqfsDNUqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/PMObhcONj9I/s1600-h/tort12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 119px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aqfsDNUqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/PMObhcONj9I/s200/tort12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144987085694653090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;12. a pera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ui ui. dependendo do sexo ou era colocado no anus ou na vagina fechado, depois era aberto para o máximo desconforto da victima.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aq-cDNUrI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/irTYAt5hyMI/s1600-h/tort11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 127px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2aq-cDNUrI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/irTYAt5hyMI/s200/tort11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144987613975630514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;11. limpar a alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;acreditava.se que a alma podia ser limpa se ingerida água ou carvão a ferver, as vezes ambos, mas claro que isto era feito antes de serem castigados pelo seu crime, chamemos.lhe assim uma espécie de tortura de "aquecimento" eheh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2arOcDNUsI/AAAAAAAAAEY/C9mv6hUvv94/s1600-h/tort10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2arOcDNUsI/AAAAAAAAAEY/C9mv6hUvv94/s200/tort10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144987888853537474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;10. a jaula pendurada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;este tem sorte porque a maioria era enjaulado completamente nu. eram postos lá só depois de terem aplicado torturas violentas, eram deixados até morrer de exposição aos elementos ou sede.&lt;/span&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;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2arg8DNUtI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fiSH5kpIx54/s1600-h/tort9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 97px; height: 141px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2arg8DNUtI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fiSH5kpIx54/s200/tort9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144988206681117394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;9. o esmagador de cabeças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;acontecia +/- assim, os dentes implodiam quebrando os maxilares, os olhos saltavam fora das órbitas e finalmente, o cérebro escorria pelas orelhas. Xo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2ar5sDNUuI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LH32nZ3aDLo/s1600-h/tort8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 139px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2ar5sDNUuI/AAAAAAAAAEo/LH32nZ3aDLo/s200/tort8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144988631882879714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;8. queima na fogueira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;usado em bruxas como toda a gente sabe, o clero acreditava que queimar uma bruxa removia os espiritos maus permanentemente do mundo fisico, eliminando assim qualquer possibilidade de contaminação de almas inocentes, faz sentido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asIcDNUvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IUftK7s3xXE/s1600-h/tort7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 146px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asIcDNUvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/IUftK7s3xXE/s200/tort7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144988885285950194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;7. o berço de judas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;a victima era pendurada por cima da piramide e lentamente a baixavam, ai, virilhas primeiro, dependendo do humor do torturador, a quantidade de peso aplicado no ponto podia variar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asTsDNUwI/AAAAAAAAAE4/J2n55vy4Y4c/s1600-h/cradle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 127px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asTsDNUwI/AAAAAAAAAE4/J2n55vy4Y4c/s200/cradle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144989078559478530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;6. o berço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;é o primo chato do berço de judas, a foto explica tudo. ick!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asfcDNUxI/AAAAAAAAAFA/x63AM8Sl8I8/s1600-h/tort5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 185px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asfcDNUxI/AAAAAAAAAFA/x63AM8Sl8I8/s200/tort5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144989280422941458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;5. iron maiden (a dama de ferro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;as portas eram fechadas lentamente para que os picos penetrassem as pernas e os braços em vários sitios, e no peito e na barriga, e na bexiga e no membro, nos olhos, nos ombros e nos gluteos, mas não o sufeciente para o matar. assim ficava a victima em grandes choros e lamentações durantes dois dias até morrer. (filhos da p****!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asrsDNUyI/AAAAAAAAAFI/CX8CcuOyidQ/s1600-h/tort4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 142px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2asrsDNUyI/AAAAAAAAAFI/CX8CcuOyidQ/s200/tort4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144989490876338978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;4. cadeira de interrogação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;não só eram os picos desconfortaveis, era ateado um fogo debaixo da cadeira para que queimasse horrivelmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2as2sDNUzI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/d2Ifr3eXY0A/s1600-h/tort3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 171px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2as2sDNUzI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/d2Ifr3eXY0A/s200/tort3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144989679854900018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. impalados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;depois da victima ser impalada podia viver até um dia e era deixada a rastejar na terra para todos verem..&lt;/span&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;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2atGcDNU0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/msdKujDLr28/s1600-h/tort2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 170px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2atGcDNU0I/AAAAAAAAAFY/msdKujDLr28/s200/tort2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144989950437839682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2. a serra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;a ideia é que a victima fique de cabeça para baixo, o sangue fica todo na cabeça oxigenando o cérebro, assim enquanto os torturadores serravam a victima, ela não desmaiava imediatamente, como acontecia em casos de dor insuportável.&lt;/span&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-family:verdana;"&gt;1. partindo com a roda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2atvcDNU1I/AAAAAAAAAFg/bNdA-bPA5B4/s1600-h/tort1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2atvcDNU1I/AAAAAAAAAFg/bNdA-bPA5B4/s200/tort1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144990654812476242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;se tiveram problemas com os anteriores e quiserem ir embora agora ninguem vai achar que são medricas....... ainda aí estão? seus pervertidos. ok aqui vamos nós.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;em termos de uso este era o segundo mais usado a seguir ao enforcamento, primeiro a victima nua era atada pelos membros esticados para cada lado ao chão, mas pedaços de madeira eram colocados nas articulações, ombros, calcanhares, joelhos pulsos e bacia. o torturador esmagava todos os membros e articulações com a roda, deixando apenas uns apendices gelatinosos de ossos, sangue e carne esmagada. cada membro era preso a roda que ficava com a victima virada para cima, ela ficava lá durante dias enquanto corvos e insectos se alimentavam até que a victima morresse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;depois disto apetece.me mesmo converter ao cristianismo ou qualquer outra religião de malucos ops quero dizer huh.. de crentes organizada e ouvir os seus ensinamentos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&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/33240230-1684948805736455785?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/1684948805736455785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=1684948805736455785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/1684948805736455785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/1684948805736455785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/12/cristianismo.html' title='cristianismo'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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/_bfy4n8M3uP4/R2an9cDNUjI/AAAAAAAAADQ/D3Gg3qtaBts/s72-c/tort20.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-2379859433672986008</id><published>2007-12-17T15:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-17T15:28:47.509Z</updated><title type='text'>dreams and promises</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;  If I was young, I'd flee this town&lt;br /&gt;I'd bury my dreams underground&lt;br /&gt;As did I, we drink to die, we drink tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it rips through the silence of our camp at night&lt;br /&gt;And it rips through the silence, all that is left is all that I hide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-2379859433672986008?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/2379859433672986008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=2379859433672986008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2379859433672986008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2379859433672986008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/12/dreams-and-promises.html' title='dreams and promises'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-7282788442378942091</id><published>2007-10-17T22:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T22:46:53.446+01:00</updated><title type='text'>interessante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RxaBbTx8eDI/AAAAAAAAADI/uKBJLAt2TNM/s1600-h/marte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RxaBbTx8eDI/AAAAAAAAADI/uKBJLAt2TNM/s200/marte.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122423932346726450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;cientistas descobriram que há vida microscópica em marte, uma das formas de vida mais antigas que conhecemos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;descobriram tambem num meteorito marciano que caiu na terra em 1994 nos gelos da antárctida (o objecto saiu disparado do planeta vermelho, provavelmente por impacto de um grande corpo espacial na sua superficie, abandonando marte e sendo captado mais tarde pela gravidade da terra.) descobriram que esse meteorito e os fragmentos do mesmo, trouxeram consigo organismos vivos! bactérias capazes de resistir a uma viagem no espaço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;agora pensem comigo... e se descobrirmos que no fim de contas, somos todos marcianos e que a primeira forma de vida foram estes "passageiros" vindos de Marte ás costas de um meteorito!? poderá a vida deste planeta ter evoluido a partir destes seres microscópicos que encontraram um local mais propicio ao seu desenvolvimento?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;hmm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-7282788442378942091?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/7282788442378942091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=7282788442378942091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7282788442378942091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7282788442378942091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/10/interessante.html' title='interessante'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RxaBbTx8eDI/AAAAAAAAADI/uKBJLAt2TNM/s72-c/marte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-8649723199180836147</id><published>2007-10-14T07:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T07:28:53.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>deixar viver?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;mais uma noite "escaldante" no meu trabalho, um bar, uma discoteca, certos negócios convem que continuem, acalma o povo... esquecem os problemas reais da vida, as crises e os problemas sao arrastados ao dia seguinte e assim se cria uma sociedade de procrastinadores, não se resolve o que é preciso e empurram.se culpas para outros, bebem e vivem na ilusão, é mentira o mundo que vêem, o problema não vai embora até ao próximo fim de semana! fica escondido atrás do alcool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;olho ao redor e vejo corpos, todos afectados pelo alcool o mundo para eles mudou é mais instavel e alegre, fazem uma grande festa roçam.se abanam.se e todos são estrelas nesta vida que é a noite, é neste momento em que todos se recusam a pensar que eu reflicto sobre certas coisas, hoje deu.me para reflectir sobre o que eu acho (e como é estranho ser o unico no meio de tanta gente a ter pensamentos mais "profundos").&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As pessoas divertem.se pelas razões erradas e da maneira errada, gosto de resolver os meus problemas e resolvo.os, quando acho que algo está mal tento mudar, nem que seja por protesto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As pessoas que vão "queimar" dinheiro (alcool é inflamavel) aos fins de semana, fazem.no por razões erradas não é para se divertirem, é para esquecerem... (os problemas lá está) eu proponho que resolvam tudo o que precisam resolver, protestem, chorem, berrem, mas resolvam.nos, depois sim! poderão ter divertimento genuino, sairão para se divertir porque se querem divertir e não para esquecer os problemas, beberão muito menos de certo! (o pouco que bebo é por apreciar o paladar de certas bebidas, porque de resto tenho sempre o meu sumo ou agua para matar a sede)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;eu não sou uma pessoa muito feliz neste momento como se pode ver, por isso estou a resolver o meu problema!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;a preguiça, a preguiça... é esta a razão! procrastinar, adiar os problemas, ter preguiça de fazer o que é certo e ouvir ou falar verdades, custa? CLARO! mas só assim se vai a algum lado.&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/33240230-8649723199180836147?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/8649723199180836147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=8649723199180836147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/8649723199180836147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/8649723199180836147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/10/deixar-viver.html' title='deixar viver?'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-3027506733867230027</id><published>2007-10-03T01:05:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T01:05:31.387+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Twinkle, twinkle like a star,&lt;br /&gt;does love blaze less from afar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-3027506733867230027?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/3027506733867230027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=3027506733867230027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/3027506733867230027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/3027506733867230027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/10/twinkle-twinkle-like-star-does-love.html' title=''/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-2914651980197763363</id><published>2007-09-27T00:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T00:17:19.720+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvroeDx8eAI/AAAAAAAAACw/RSnwrosxBMc/s1600-h/16x20-Tulip+Garden+2001+reduced_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvroeDx8eAI/AAAAAAAAACw/RSnwrosxBMc/s200/16x20-Tulip+Garden+2001+reduced_web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114655929941129218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;oh no the tulips I gave you &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are suddenly fading&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;along with our love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;who cares? the credits are rolling&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love's just a movie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;there's always an end&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love what it is?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;it just is...&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/33240230-2914651980197763363?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/2914651980197763363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=2914651980197763363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2914651980197763363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2914651980197763363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/09/oh-no-tulips-i-gave-you-are-suddenly.html' title=''/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvroeDx8eAI/AAAAAAAAACw/RSnwrosxBMc/s72-c/16x20-Tulip+Garden+2001+reduced_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-4489071727467219059</id><published>2007-09-19T02:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T02:50:59.173+01:00</updated><title type='text'>música</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvCAb4E3Y_I/AAAAAAAAACQ/s3Dyi201H24/s1600-h/fireflie2s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111726793463129074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvCAb4E3Y_I/AAAAAAAAACQ/s3Dyi201H24/s320/fireflie2s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;não aprovas quase nada do que eu faço e como faço, não pode ser como tu queres, talvez tenhas alguma razão mas eu quero encontrar a minha... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; podes negar.me este fado, destino que me leva, as cordas de uma guitarra... ouço.os, sinto.os, chamam por mim, querem aquilo que tenho para oferecer mas estas amarras &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; me deixam..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;todos os que me foram mais importantes disseram que não, a musica não pode ser uma forma de vida, (de "ganhar" a vida dizem) a musica é o meu caminho se o sigo não é por dinheiro, sei que tem muito para me ensinar, não só acordes, tons ou cores e sentimento. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;color:#6666cc;" &gt;IMAGINEM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;um dia de greve musical, sem musica em lado nenhum! nem no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pc&lt;/span&gt;, nem no rádio, nem no café, nem sequer na apresentação do telejornal, nada!! digam.me lá o quão cinzento, aborrecido, simples, sem vida seria o vosso dia!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;então aqui defendo a musica que &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;põe&lt;/span&gt; um sorriso na cara de todos quando toca, os &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;músicos&lt;/span&gt; e aqueles que querem seguir musica que são vistos como peso.morto para a sociedade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;ensina.nos honra, respeito, cultura, evolução pessoal, a musica mudou a minha visão do mundo, é uma floresta bela e optimista onde a fantasia, imaginação e criação reinam é um caminho de terra batida ladeado por flores e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;árvores&lt;/span&gt;.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;tão altas! e tão densas! que as copas deixam apenas raios de luz iluminar o caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; a cada passo descobrimos algo novo, em cada canto &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;surpreendemo&lt;/span&gt;.nos com o mais pequeno detalhe, um novo cheiro, novo brilho, novo sentimento &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;à noite...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt; as clareiras dançam com &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;pirilampos&lt;/span&gt; e no alto, a lua baixa brilha prateada perto das estrelas..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por isso não vou admitir que digam que passo os dias a fazer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tchanga&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;langa&lt;/span&gt; na guitarra!! não vou deixar que rebaixem o que não entendem!! o mundo musical é muito mais que som ou barulho! fui chamado e não há lugar para &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;resmungos&lt;/span&gt; ou amuos porque nada dura para sempre, enquanto aqui estiver vou aprender o máximo que possa sobre tudo o que interessa e há sempre espaço para aprender algo mais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-4489071727467219059?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/4489071727467219059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=4489071727467219059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/4489071727467219059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/4489071727467219059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-aprovas-quase-nada-do-que-eu-fao-e.html' title='música'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RvCAb4E3Y_I/AAAAAAAAACQ/s3Dyi201H24/s72-c/fireflie2s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-7366780543769812245</id><published>2007-09-12T14:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T02:58:21.977+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Prá rua me levar</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;"Não vou viver como alguém que só espera um novo amor&lt;br /&gt; Há outras coisas no caminho onde eu vou&lt;br /&gt; Às vezes ando só, a trocar passos com a solidão&lt;br /&gt; Momentos que são meus e que não abro mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Já sei olhar o rio por onde a vida passa&lt;br /&gt; Sem me precipitar e nem perder a hora&lt;br /&gt; Escuto no silêncio que há em mim e basta&lt;br /&gt; Outro tempo começou, pra mim agora..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vou deixar a rua me levar ver a cidade se acender&lt;br /&gt; A lua vai banhar esse lugar e eu vou lembrar você...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;É, mas tenho ainda muita coisa pra arrumar&lt;br /&gt; Promessas que me fiz e que ainda não cumpri&lt;br /&gt; Palavras que aguardam o tempo exato pra falar&lt;br /&gt; Coisas minhas, talvez você nem queira ouvir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Vou deixar a rua me levar, ver a cidade se acender&lt;br /&gt; A lua vai banhar esse lugar e eu vou lembrar você..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-7366780543769812245?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/7366780543769812245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=7366780543769812245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7366780543769812245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7366780543769812245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/09/pr-rua-me-levar.html' title='Prá rua me levar'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-2286906789627954484</id><published>2007-08-24T01:30:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T01:30:20.734+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;To be forgotten is worse than death...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-2286906789627954484?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/2286906789627954484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=2286906789627954484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2286906789627954484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2286906789627954484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/08/to-be-forgotten-is-worse-than-death.html' title=''/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-7515338682730320103</id><published>2007-08-10T16:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T16:50:57.945+01:00</updated><title type='text'>incertezas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;quando tinha medo de tudo, nao tive medo de te amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-7515338682730320103?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/7515338682730320103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=7515338682730320103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7515338682730320103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7515338682730320103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/08/incertezas.html' title='incertezas'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-373157999765930419</id><published>2007-08-06T01:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T01:27:17.877+01:00</updated><title type='text'>in a perfect world</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I don't blame you, you came back for me that's what's important...&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/33240230-373157999765930419?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/373157999765930419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=373157999765930419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/373157999765930419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/373157999765930419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-perfect-world.html' title='in a perfect world'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-7802735240147847553</id><published>2007-07-28T23:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T18:05:21.643+01:00</updated><title type='text'>guitarra</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;in the beginning there was void and darkness and no shape&lt;br /&gt;upon the land. And then there was Light. Yeeeeeeeeah, you know&lt;br /&gt;the rest... blah blah blah some dude shagged some chick and here&lt;br /&gt;we are, woop-dee-FRIGGIN-doo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahem, well... somewhere along the line "...there was&lt;br /&gt;music..." and some time after that... there was guitar! When?&lt;br /&gt;Where? How?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guitar appears to be derived from earlier instruments&lt;br /&gt;like the sitar and the first appeared in spain.&lt;br /&gt;the word guitar was adopted from spanish guitarra, that derived&lt;br /&gt;from the Arabic word qitara wich in turn was derived from the early Greek word Kithara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;guitar means &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;i&gt;guit-&lt;/i&gt;, similar to Sanskrit sangeet meaning "music",&lt;br /&gt;and &lt;i&gt;-tar&lt;/i&gt; a widely attested root meaning "chord" or "string".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and then amplification and the electric guitar came, effects, modelers,&lt;br /&gt;semi-acoustics etc. so now I have to deal with a lot of "stuff"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye, hope you liked it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-7802735240147847553?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/7802735240147847553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=7802735240147847553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7802735240147847553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/7802735240147847553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/guitarra_28.html' title='guitarra'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-8448078638586145784</id><published>2007-07-24T23:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T23:04:36.920+01:00</updated><title type='text'>será?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;duvida que as estrelas sao fogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;duvida que o sol se move&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;duvida da verdade para seres uma mentirosa;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;mas nunca duvides do meu amor.&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/33240230-8448078638586145784?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/8448078638586145784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=8448078638586145784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/8448078638586145784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/8448078638586145784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/ser.html' title='será?'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-6323631031309302391</id><published>2007-07-22T18:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T18:11:21.483+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sabes?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;desde que ela se foi embora sinto que me arrancaram fora as entranhas e encheram o vazio com asfalto, rio.me cada vez que me lembro que nunca vou voltar a falar com ela, porque me soa à coisa mais estupida que alguma vez ouvi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nao acredito que é real.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-6323631031309302391?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/6323631031309302391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=6323631031309302391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/6323631031309302391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/6323631031309302391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/sabes.html' title='sabes?'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-5092746463599048776</id><published>2007-07-12T03:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T03:58:11.066+01:00</updated><title type='text'>life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWYpfP0JzI/AAAAAAAAAA8/I5eobNyWQX0/s1600-h/Life.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWYpfP0JzI/AAAAAAAAAA8/I5eobNyWQX0/s320/Life.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086139192714733362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWXS_P0JtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7tgjbg-3-LM/s1600-h/Life.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-5092746463599048776?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/5092746463599048776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=5092746463599048776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5092746463599048776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5092746463599048776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/life.html' title='life'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWYpfP0JzI/AAAAAAAAAA8/I5eobNyWQX0/s72-c/Life.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-596131329780101516</id><published>2007-07-12T03:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T03:50:39.393+01:00</updated><title type='text'>caminho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;as pessoas dizem que vem em ondas, altos e baixos, tudo está bem e de repente outra onda atinge.nos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sinto saudades dela... a toda a hora, não são ondas é uma constante.&lt;br /&gt;sempre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu abro portas e não é que não queira estar aqui, eu quero, mas... eu não sei se vou conseguir ser quem eu queria ser outra vez, e não posso falar sobre isso porque me assusta de mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-596131329780101516?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/596131329780101516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=596131329780101516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/596131329780101516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/596131329780101516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/caminho.html' title='caminho'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-2459732123104876869</id><published>2007-07-11T03:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T04:28:18.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'>steve vai</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWfQPP0J4I/AAAAAAAAABk/HOhhF1mNCTs/s1600-h/Steve+vai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWfQPP0J4I/AAAAAAAAABk/HOhhF1mNCTs/s200/Steve+vai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086146455504430978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's when I look into your eyes and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I say...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-2459732123104876869?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/2459732123104876869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=2459732123104876869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2459732123104876869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/2459732123104876869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/07/thats-when-i-look-into-your-eyes-and-i.html' title='steve vai'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bfy4n8M3uP4/RpWfQPP0J4I/AAAAAAAAABk/HOhhF1mNCTs/s72-c/Steve+vai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33240230.post-5022978307531485863</id><published>2007-05-14T15:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T15:49:31.121+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Chk</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;matas.me todo&lt;br /&gt;tiras.me a calma&lt;br /&gt;partes.me a alma..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;o que é q tu esperas ter?&lt;br /&gt;sabes que nao posso dar.te a lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;o que é que tu me queres dizer?&lt;br /&gt;sabes bem como partir o coração de um homem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;tu que eras a gaja dos meus sonhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;tu que fizeste pequenos os os meus dias mais grandes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;tu que fizeste grandes os meus desejos mais pequenos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;tu que fazias com que a minha pele suave, se tornasse em pele de galinha&lt;br /&gt;de cada vez que as tuas unhas roçavam as minhas costas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tu que eu amei desmedidamente durante anos e anos a fio&lt;br /&gt;mesmo quando os teus dedos se enroscavam nos remoinhos do meu cabelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;tu que apesar desta felicidade desbordante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;deixaste este teu cavaleiro andante...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-5022978307531485863?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/5022978307531485863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=5022978307531485863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5022978307531485863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5022978307531485863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/05/chk.html' title='Chk'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-5228381721959414153</id><published>2007-04-17T00:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T00:42:19.806+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;levantei.me tarde de manhã, já estava atrasado para as aulas então saltei da cama, arranjei.me o melhor que pude, bebi meio chá e comi meia torrada. mesmo assim nao cheguei a tempo de te ver antes de entrar para a sala... fiquei a pensar em ti, e com saudades imaginei o teu rosto, o teu corpo e o teu perfume durante 90min de algo que nao me lembro a nao seres tu. achei que pior estavas tu porque te apressaste para a escola para me veres e no final ficaste desapontada, achas.te que nao me importei nem fiz um esforço..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;mal soou a campainha corri para a entrada e sentei.me nas escadas para te ver timida, e um pouco corada a caminhar para mim como só tu ficavas quando te via chegar, estavas um pouco zangada mas sorridente, sabias que nao te conseguias chatear porque estar comigo tornava tudo melhor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;apesar de me bateres no ombro, saltas.te para os meus braços e beijaste.me como se eu tivesse partido para longe e durante longos meses...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-5228381721959414153?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/5228381721959414153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=5228381721959414153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5228381721959414153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/5228381721959414153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/04/levantei.html' title=''/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-6287853436393903033</id><published>2007-04-17T00:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T00:28:30.034+01:00</updated><title type='text'>embrace</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'll remember you everytime the wind blows through my window&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;on a sunny spring evening...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-6287853436393903033?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/6287853436393903033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=6287853436393903033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/6287853436393903033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/6287853436393903033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/04/embrace.html' title='embrace'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116974102050237612</id><published>2007-01-25T15:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-25T16:03:40.516Z</updated><title type='text'>tanta agua</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;eu estava no chuveiro com agua quente a correr pelo meu corpo, estava a ser bom até que o meu corpo se habituou à temperatura da agua, aí deixou de ser bom para ser cómodo, então desliguei o chuveiro por uns momentos e quando começei a ter frio voltei a ligar a agua quente e voltou a ser bom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;isso fez.me pensar que o mundo é como um graaande chuveiro, quando começa a ser cómodo é altura de fazer alguma coisa para voltar a ser bom. ao inicio da mudança custa um pouco mas depois vale a pena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116974102050237612?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116974102050237612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116974102050237612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116974102050237612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116974102050237612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2007/01/tanta-agua.html' title='tanta agua'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116714855773429439</id><published>2006-12-26T15:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-26T15:55:57.750Z</updated><title type='text'>to live and to die</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;we would be lucky to get out of life alive.. eheh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116714855773429439?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116714855773429439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116714855773429439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116714855773429439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116714855773429439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/12/to-live-and-to-die.html' title='to live and to die'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116688472422932258</id><published>2006-12-23T14:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-23T14:55:44.046Z</updated><title type='text'>natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;na época natalicia toda a gente se enche de sorrisos, abraços e compaixão, as ruas ganham multidões de pessoas que procuram aquela prenda especial para certa pessoa, juntam.se numa causa de fazer feliz o próximo, à noite nas ruas e camaras, estrelas e sinos de luz cintilam, o mundo transforma.se numa bela fantasia que ilumina o regresso a casa onde se espera o dia em que o pai natal desce da chaminé.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;o que interessa nesta época não são os presentes bons que vamos receber mas sim a atenção que as pessoas nos dão, mesmo que não estejam connosco, se telefonarem, mandarem uma mensagem ou mesmo uma prenda simbólica, o facto de se terem lembrado de nós faz.nos felizes.. e saber que fizemos outra pessoa feliz ainda nos faz sentir melhor..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;mas e aqueles que são esquecidos e que não recebem telefonemas nem mensagens nem prendas? como é que alguem que não pode nem tem, ao ver como os outros trocam sorrisos, gargalhadas e ficam especialmente felizes nesta época se devem sentir? quando não têm ninguem para partilhar seja o que for... provavelmente perguntam.se qual é a coisa que os mantém vivos ou com vontade de continuar a viver, nestas alturas um pequeno gesto muda muita coisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bom Natal!! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116688472422932258?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116688472422932258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116688472422932258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116688472422932258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116688472422932258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/12/natal.html' title='natal'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116603724714191339</id><published>2006-12-13T18:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:50:30.446Z</updated><title type='text'>mens agitat molem</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/5302/3646/200/104107/mens%20agitat%20molem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;lat.&lt;/em&gt;O espirito move a matéria. Frase virgiliana aproveitada pelos panteístas e estóicos, hoje empregada no sentido de que a inteligência domina a matéria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podem.se resumir assim as doutrinas materialistas: "Tudo é matéria. Cada molécula tem suas propriedades em virtude das quais se formou o Universo com os seres que em si contém. É uma hipótese a ideia de um principio espiritual governando a matéria, pois esta governa.se a si própria por leis fatais, mecânicas. A matéria é eterna, e só ela é eterna. Saídos do pó, voltaremos ao pó. O que chamamos alma, o conjunto das nossas faculdades intelectuais, a consciência, mais não é que uma função do organismo, e esvai.se com a morte. "O pensamento é uma secração do cérebro", disse Carl Vogt, e o mesmo autor acrescenta: "As leis da Natureza são inflexíveis; não conhecem moral nem benevolência."&lt;br /&gt;Acho esta doutrina um pouco brutal e desumana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se a matéria é tudo, o que é a matéria então? Se subdividirmos toda a matéria ficamos com o quê? Vou usar como exemplo a água. Temos o gelo, que se transforma em líquido e o liquido em gás. Depois do gás temos o quê...? Átomos, moléculas, uma substancia etérea que "enche" o espaço? penso que podemos dizer que a matéria é tudo e a matéria é nada.&lt;br /&gt;Se os corpos são apenas um conjunto de moléculas compostas de átomos e o átomo é invisivel (mesmo com um microscópio não se consegue ver), então a forma dos corpos só se mantém devido à lei da atracção.&lt;br /&gt;A matéria observada de perto esvai.se, desaparece, é apenas uma realidade aparente.&lt;br /&gt;Penso que a realidade, a certeza, só existe no espírito e é este que deve ser apreciado e compreendido. Nele reside um mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O espírito é ainda mais, é a vontade que dirige a matérioa (mens agitat molem) e lhe dá vida.&lt;br /&gt;Eu acho que é inválido dizer que o cérebro produz o pensamento, o cérebro é apenas um instrumento deste. Há algo que domina toda a matéria do nosso corpo, que a agita e a faz mover de acordo com as necessidades da sua existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mundo material é apenas o aspecto exterior, uma concha onde reside o mundo espiritual.&lt;br /&gt;O "eu" humano não está na matéria, mas sim no espírito. O que seria da matéria sem espírito, sem controlo? Poderia um agregado de átomos existir? Se existisse seria comandada pelo acaso. Isto não me parece muito viável, a matéria não se pode diversificar nem criar formas mais complexas sem alguma coisa que a mova. E nota.se uma adaptação inteligente e ordem na Natureza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se tudo é matéria, como é que, sendo esta "cega", desprovida de sentimento, poderia criar seres racionais e sensíveis? Para que serve a coragem e a bondade? Para quê domarmos os nossos desejos? Se a Humanidade está abandonada a si própria, que socorro pode ela esperar? O que pode tirar de todas as provações?&lt;br /&gt;Nós sentimos, amamos e sofremos. Se não há amor no mundo, nem outra coisa além da matéria sem pensamento, sem alma, sem consciência, então o ideal e a beleza moral são só ilusões e mentiras. Não se pode admitir que a parte seja superior ao todo.&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes sentimos algo como verdade mas pensamos «Não consigo explicar!». Será que a falta de vocabulário torna esse sentimento menos real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de tudo isto eu pergunto.me: O que pode o homem saber do principio das coisas? &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/33240230-116603724714191339?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116603724714191339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116603724714191339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116603724714191339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116603724714191339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/12/mens-agitat-molem.html' title='mens agitat molem'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116596241193375910</id><published>2006-12-12T22:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-28T02:55:34.186Z</updated><title type='text'>a laranja voadora</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;a laranja voadora é um poema,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;o poeta que a vê é um louco, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;mas ela voa, paira... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;se essa laranja cair e eu a comer.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;serei parte do poema, ou serei louco?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116596241193375910?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116596241193375910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116596241193375910' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116596241193375910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116596241193375910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/12/laranja-voadora.html' title='a laranja voadora'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116415415983230720</id><published>2006-11-22T00:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-22T00:09:19.840Z</updated><title type='text'>Motivation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;After losing, do you have fun?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;no.&lt;br /&gt;Does it feel good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Can you sleep well??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got to win right!?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;YES!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;We Got To Win!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Win!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Go!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116415415983230720?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116415415983230720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116415415983230720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116415415983230720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116415415983230720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/11/motivation.html' title='Motivation'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-116109748339902092</id><published>2006-10-17T15:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:09:35.296+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/1600/hr.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/200/hr.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;a morte é como o sexo, ao chegarmos ao climax, o corpo perde.se e a alma deixa.se ir.. e o amor? Oh, se o sexo é doce e a morte amarga, o amor é ambos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e no final, o amor sempre e para sempre quebra.vos o coração...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-116109748339902092?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/116109748339902092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=116109748339902092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116109748339902092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/116109748339902092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/10/morte-como-o-sexo-ao-chegarmos-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115913975996059165</id><published>2006-09-24T23:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T16:42:34.306+01:00</updated><title type='text'>21 gramas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/1600/ju.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/320/ju.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;é o peso que se perde quando se morre, dizem que é a libertação da alma. depois da alma se libertar do corpo para onde vai? para o inferno, para o paraíso?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dizem que o inferno é o local do castigo eterno pelos pecados da vida, para mim o inferno é um local de purificação por onde passam todas as almas que não saem do mundo em paz (muitas culturas acreditam que o fogo é purificador), aí todos os sentimentos e recordações ardem e a alma purificada ascende ao paraíso onde espera para se dividir e entrar no mundo limpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;num mundo sobrepopulado é muito provavel haver divisão de almas, assim se explicam os pobres de espirito, os fracos e sem coração, são aqueles cuja alma se dividiu tantas vezes que perdeu a sua essência. todos nós nos sentimos incompletos e eu acredito que certas pessoas que entram na nossa vida e que nos fazem sentir bem, são partes da nossa alma que se dividiu, se perdeu por aí e que nós finalmente encontramos, são as tais chamadas caras-metade, não precisam de ser namorados(as), podem apenas ser amigos(as) que se tornam muito importantes para nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quando isso acontece podemo.nos considerar pessoas de sorte e devemos ao longo da nossa vida encontrar e manter todas as nossas partes juntas para nos sentirmos completos, como peças de um puzzle, só juntas formam uma imagem...&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/33240230-115913975996059165?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115913975996059165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115913975996059165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115913975996059165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115913975996059165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/09/21-gramas.html' title='21 gramas'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115807691189695438</id><published>2006-09-12T16:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T19:51:09.413+01:00</updated><title type='text'>iglu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/1600/hjkhjkhj.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/200/hjkhjkhj.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No matter what you are&lt;br /&gt;I will always be with you&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't matter what you do, girl&lt;br /&gt;with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;No matter where you go&lt;br /&gt;There would always be a place&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see it in my face, girl&lt;br /&gt;want you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh you girl, want you..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-115807691189695438?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115807691189695438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115807691189695438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115807691189695438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115807691189695438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/09/iglu.html' title='iglu'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115792730672513873</id><published>2006-09-10T23:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T00:37:48.696+01:00</updated><title type='text'>cinza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/1600/ny.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/200/ny.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;um dia cinzento , sente.se o final do verão aos poucos em tons castanhos, em gotas que caem de um céu apagado, ainda cheira a maresia... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;é estranho o que certos ventos nos trazem à memória, dias maiores levados pelas correntes do tempo nas ondas do mar...&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/33240230-115792730672513873?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115792730672513873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115792730672513873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115792730672513873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115792730672513873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/09/cinza.html' title='cinza'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115741268351220005</id><published>2006-09-05T00:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T11:37:07.876+01:00</updated><title type='text'>rita lee</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;sexo vem dos outros e vai embora, amor vem de nós... e demora."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-115741268351220005?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115741268351220005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115741268351220005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115741268351220005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115741268351220005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/09/rita-lee.html' title='rita lee'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115690757901403768</id><published>2006-08-30T03:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T00:51:55.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'>guardo.me num filme</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;quem me dera poder viver num filme sem fim... onde a fita acaba ao meio e pára quando ainda tudo corre bem e os sentimentos ainda são o "feliz para sempre", onde a ultima cena são dois sorrisos, um beijo e uma vida cheia pela frente com o que nos é especial.. sei de um filme onde gostaria de morar, esse é o meu filme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;o meu maior medo, a morte. o meu maior desejo, imortal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nos actores e actrizes da vida real não se vê apenas o final feliz depois da donzela ser resgatada, vê.se tambem o desgosto, as infelicidades, as zangas, o cansaço da procura e o encarquilhar de duas carcaças velhas que provavelmente sofreram mais do que sorriram. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a velhice persegue.me, por enquanto ainda lhe escapo quando me faltar força... morri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(escuro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a vida vai e vem, quando ela vai já não nos importamos, mas eu... eu não quero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(só quero o meu filme...)&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/33240230-115690757901403768?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115690757901403768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115690757901403768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115690757901403768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115690757901403768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/08/guardome-num-filme.html' title='guardo.me num filme'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115685390246928068</id><published>2006-08-29T13:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T00:49:58.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'>back again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/1600/DSC05779-1.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5302/3646/200/DSC05779-1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;de volta de mais uns dias em caminha, ja tenho uma prancha nova que é muito melhor, já sei uns truques novos, estou a safar.me bem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;é bom voltar a casa depois de umas férias e poder voltar à musica descansado, com vontade de estudar e voltar a escrever, mas antes tenho muito que arrumar por aqui, em casa e em mim.&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/33240230-115685390246928068?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115685390246928068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115685390246928068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115685390246928068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115685390246928068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/08/back-again.html' title='back again'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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-33240230.post-115636743043895882</id><published>2006-08-23T21:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T00:51:20.420+01:00</updated><title type='text'>back..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;estas férias percebi a piada de um dos desportos aquaticos, o skimming, acho q nunca era capaz de gostar de surf ou body board mas o skimming ganhou um lugar especial - Caminha. foi amor à primeira pranchada, é algo q quero continuar a fazer, ganhei um certo gosto por algum surf rock tambem :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estas férias passadas em Caminha foram algo especial, aprendi muito sobre musica e forma de encarar o mundo e as coisas, estou pronto para trabalhar as musicas de um modo especial agora..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33240230-115636743043895882?l=ombmen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/feeds/115636743043895882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33240230&amp;postID=115636743043895882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115636743043895882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33240230/posts/default/115636743043895882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ombmen.blogspot.com/2006/08/back.html' title='back..'/><author><name>duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10078970623385541361</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></feed>
