<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 21 Feb 2009 01:19:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Veneno Antimonotonia - Noigandres</title><description>"...Todo amor que houver nessa vida e algum veneno antimonotonia..."</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>491</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-7285176541479604264</guid><pubDate>Tue, 30 Sep 2008 04:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-30T02:21:48.593-03:00</atom:updated><title>You go backwards again...</title><description>Eis que, mais de um ano depois, eu me pego falando a seguinte frase: &lt;em&gt;"se eu ainda postasse, isso iria pro blog..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O contexto? Applebees, em plena segunda-feira, com queridas amigas, jogando conversa fora e tomando uns drinks enquanto todas nós deveriamos estar estudando...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu resolvi voltar aqui. Ler o que passava pela minha cabeça há um ano foi bastante alucidativo. Pouquíssimas coisas mudaram. Os sentimentos são praticamente os mesmos e os personagem, de uma forma ou de outra, continuam por aqui. Inclusive, a razão do post abaixo foi a gota d'água para voltar aqui hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas em um ano muita coisa aconteceu, é verdade. Tantas pessoas passaram, tantas outras ficaram. Aprendi muito, chorei mais ainda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuo insegura quanto ao meu futuro. E agora, que ele está cada vez mais proximo, tudo parece ainda mais desesperador. Frequentemente tenho vontade de mandar tudo &lt;em&gt;praquelelugar &lt;/em&gt;e começar qualquer outra coisa do zero. Mas como eu não tenho nem certeza, nem coragem, me deixo levar pra onde a maré for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me apaixonei em um ano. E talvez seja isso o que mais me dói. Quer dizer, na verdade o que dói mesmo é saber que existem pessoas por quem eu facilmente poderia ter me apaixonado (ou re-apaixonado), e até cheguei bem perto disso, mas era tudo tão platônico/improvável/incompatível que meu firewall simplesmente bloqueou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em um ano eu tentei esconder muitas coisas de mim mesma. No fundo, foi por isso que eu parei de postar. Eu não queria admitir determinadas coisas nem pra mim, não poderia de forma alguma publicá-las. Mas agora eu cheguei num ponto em que preciso desabafar. E não importa o quanto eu converse com os outros (que me conhecem e me entendem), nunca vai ser o suficiente se eu não reaprender a confiar em mim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-7285176541479604264?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2008/09/um-ano-e-dois-meses.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-3381858345476894268</guid><pubDate>Sun, 08 Jul 2007 19:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-07-08T16:26:42.067-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Don't treat me like I'm a trick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; I won't treat you like you're a prick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Don't need no doctor, I'm not sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'm not your baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Everything is alright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Everything is alright&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'm not your baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tá abandonado. Eu sei....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/6451078-3381858345476894268?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/07/dont-treat-me-like-im-trick-i-wont.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-193868195889968075</guid><pubDate>Thu, 24 May 2007 03:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-24T00:28:58.388-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Tô de volta.&lt;br /&gt;De volta a internerd...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boa a sensação de "ainda bem que eu pulei fora a tempo". Mas resta aquela minha velha sensação de "poderia ter sido e não foi, de novo". Melhor assim... É sempre melhor assim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-193868195889968075?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/05/t-de-volta.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-8314904485021308724</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 May 2007 17:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-08T14:59:43.368-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the hardest part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Was letting go not taking part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Was the hardest part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And the strangest thing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;was waiting for that bell to ring&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It was the strangest start&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I could feel it go down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bitersweet I could taste in my mouth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Silver lining the clouds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wish that I could work it out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the hardest part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Was letting go not taking part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You really broke my heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And I tried to sing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But I couldn't think of anything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That was the hardest part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I could feel it go down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You left the sweetest taste in my mouth&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your silver lining the clouds&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder what it's all about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I wonder what it's all about&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everything I know is wrong&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everything I do just comes undone&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And everything is torn apart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and it's the hardest part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That's the hardest part&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yeah that's the hardest part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That's the hardest part&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-8314904485021308724?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/05/and-hardest-part-was-letting-go-not.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-394296154189326769</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Apr 2007 17:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-21T14:43:38.769-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Pq amanhã tem O Meu Amor. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu amo a minha vida de solteira...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que o fogo gelou&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que a neve fervia&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que ela corava&lt;br /&gt;Quando me via&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que ao meio-dia&lt;br /&gt;Havia intenso luar&lt;br /&gt;E o povo se embevecia&lt;br /&gt;Se empetecava João&lt;br /&gt;Se impiriquitava Maria&lt;br /&gt;Doentes do coração&lt;br /&gt;Dançavam na enfermaria&lt;br /&gt;E a beleza não fenecia&lt;br /&gt;Belo e sereno era o som&lt;br /&gt;Que lá no morro se ouvia&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que o sonho era bom&lt;br /&gt;Porque ela sorria&lt;br /&gt;Até quando chovia&lt;br /&gt;Guris inertes no chão&lt;br /&gt;Falavam de astronomia&lt;br /&gt;E me jurava o diabo&lt;br /&gt;Que Deus existia&lt;br /&gt;De mão em mão o ladrão&lt;br /&gt;Relógios distribuía&lt;br /&gt;E a polícia já não batia&lt;br /&gt;De noite raiava o sol&lt;br /&gt;Que todo mundo aplaudia&lt;br /&gt;Maconha só se comprava&lt;br /&gt;Na tabacaria&lt;br /&gt;Drogas na drogaria&lt;br /&gt;Um passarinho espanhol&lt;br /&gt;Cantava esta melodia&lt;br /&gt;E com sotaque esta letra&lt;br /&gt;De sua autoria&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que o fogo gelou&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que a neve fervia&lt;br /&gt;E por sonhar o impossível, ai&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que tu me querias&lt;br /&gt;Soñé que el fuego heló&lt;br /&gt;Soñé que la nieve ardia&lt;br /&gt;Y por soñar lo impossible, ay, ay&lt;br /&gt;Soñe que tu me querias.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-394296154189326769?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/04/pq-amanh-tem-o-meu-amor.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-859109839168255891</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 Apr 2007 16:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-16T14:04:09.510-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Com alguma frequencia a COMPESA coloca uns negocinhos na água e os homens surtam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, de vez em quando, esses surtos são tãããããoooo bons...&lt;br /&gt;=]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Negue seu amor e o seu carinho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diga que você já me esqueceu&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pise machucando com jeitinho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Este coração que ainda é seu&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diga que meu pranto é covardia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas não se esqueça&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que você foi meu um dia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diga que já não me quer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Negue que me pertenceu&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que eu mostro a boca molhada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ainda marcada pelo beijo seu&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ego devidamente massageado...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-859109839168255891?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/04/com-alguma-frequencia-compesa-coloca.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-1836354630289341744</guid><pubDate>Thu, 12 Apr 2007 15:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-12T12:16:01.308-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Mudança. Portanto sem internet e, conseqüentemente, sem atualizações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dias turbulentos, algumas lágrimas, muitos risos, saudades, ovo, abraço e cara de besta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Férias, enfim...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-1836354630289341744?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/04/mudana.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-5433415884783988875</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Mar 2007 02:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-03-20T23:08:57.258-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;em&gt;Quando você me deixou, meu bem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me disse pra ser feliz e passar bem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quis morrer de ciúme, quase enlouqueci&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas depois, como era de costume, obedeci&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando você me quiser rever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Já vai me encontrar refeita, pode crer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olhos nos olhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ver o que você faz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ao sentir que sem você eu passo bem demais&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;E que venho até remoçando&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me pego cantando, sem mais, nem por quê&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tantas águas rolaram&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quantos homens me amaram&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bem mais e melhor que você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quando talvez precisar de mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cê sabe que a casa é sempre sua, venha sim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Olhos nos olhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ver o que você diz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ver como suporta me ver tão feliz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-5433415884783988875?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/03/quando-voc-me-deixou-meu-bem-me-disse.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-6403612254293578348</guid><pubDate>Sat, 10 Mar 2007 18:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-07-13T00:45:57.080-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;em&gt;"Assim, o pequeno príncipe cativou a raposa. Mas, quando chegou a hora da partida, a raposa disse:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Ah! Eu vou chorar!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- A culpa é tua - disse o principezinho - Eu não queria te fazer mal; mas tu quiseste que eu te cativasse...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Quis - disse a raposa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Mas tu vais chorar! - disse ele.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Vou! - disse a raposa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Então, não terás ganho nada!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Terei, sim - disse a raposa - por causa da cor do trigo."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me sentindo como a raposa, esses dias...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-6403612254293578348?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/03/assim-o-pequeno-prncipe-cativou-raposa.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-9045560893306858951</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Feb 2007 22:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-18T19:31:27.569-03:00</atom:updated><title>We might be strangers...</title><description>&lt;em&gt;I don't know your face no more&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or feel the touch that I adore&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know your face no more&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's just a place, I'm looking for&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well be strangers in another town&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well be living in a different world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know your thoughts these days&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;We're strangers in an empty space&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't understand your heart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's easier, to be apart&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well be strangers in another town&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well be living in another time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;We might as well be strangers! Be strangers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;For all I know of you now.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-9045560893306858951?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/02/we-might-be-strangers.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-138989127929952077</guid><pubDate>Sat, 10 Feb 2007 05:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-02-01T23:37:26.361-03:00</atom:updated><title>Saldo da semana</title><description>Uma notícia bombástica;&lt;br /&gt;Duas provas;&lt;br /&gt;Três grandes decepções...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa foi boa, ein??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-138989127929952077?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/02/saldo-da-semana.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-5097873858064051091</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Feb 2007 00:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-31T21:26:36.769-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;em&gt;So love is big&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is bigger than us.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But love is not&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What you're thinking of.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's what lovers deal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's what lovers steal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You know I've found it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hard to receive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Cause you, my love&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I could never believe.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-5097873858064051091?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/01/so-love-is-big-is-bigger-than-us.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-7630167502173643405</guid><pubDate>Wed, 31 Jan 2007 16:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-31T21:25:17.073-03:00</atom:updated><title>Recife e o autorama.</title><description>Alguém, por favor, pode me explicar porque raios os motoristas recifences têm a incorrigível tendencia a achar que estão num grande autorama??&lt;br /&gt;Parece que é impossível alguém ir direitinho &lt;strong&gt;entre&lt;/strong&gt; as faixas que dividem a via!! Não... eles têm que ir por &lt;strong&gt;cima &lt;/strong&gt;delas!!!!&lt;br /&gt;grr...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-7630167502173643405?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/01/recife-e-o-autorama.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116838410955103964</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Jan 2007 23:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-25T00:25:16.096-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Numa daquelas fases em que eu &lt;strong&gt;realmente&lt;/strong&gt; não não sei o que faço: não sei se volto, não sei se fico, não sei se passo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a pulguinha pula atrás da orelha que é uma beleeeeza...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116838410955103964?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/01/numa-daquelas-fases-em-que-eu.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116770148385633123</guid><pubDate>Tue, 02 Jan 2007 01:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-01-09T11:24:58.000-03:00</atom:updated><title>Frase do dia:</title><description>&lt;em&gt;Tô solteiro...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiai... Tudo que eu maaaaaaaaaaaaaais precisava...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2007 promete graaaandes posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116770148385633123?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2007/01/frase-do-dia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116684400005256190</guid><pubDate>Sat, 23 Dec 2006 03:18:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-31T22:35:11.066-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Noite de sexta, comendo chocolate e ouvindo Smiths...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leia-se: deprimida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116684400005256190?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/12/noite-de-sexta-comendo-chocolate-e.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116625229839639565</guid><pubDate>Sat, 16 Dec 2006 06:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-31T22:34:01.166-03:00</atom:updated><title>"O teu amor é uma mentira..."</title><description>"... que a minha vaidade quer".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito embora eu tenha cansado, cansado de te esperar, de te entender, de te achar perfeito, eu não sei dizer 'basta'.&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que externamente eu esteja muito bem, internamente eu estou aos pedaços.&lt;br /&gt;Muito embora te sentir não surta mais o mesmo efeito, teu corpo e o meu encaixam de uma forma que eu não consigo deixar de imaginar outra forma em que poderiamos estar.&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que eu me afaste, eu não consigo fugir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu estrapolei. Fiz o que achava que devia, mas o tiro saiu pela culatra.&lt;br /&gt;E no final, como sempre, só eu sofri, só eu chorei. Só o meu coração dói.&lt;br /&gt;Escutar tudo que escutei teria sido maravilhoso... se saídas, aquelas palavras, de outra boca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116625229839639565?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/12/o-teu-amor-uma-mentira.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116563903587309187</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 Dec 2006 04:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-10T18:40:27.473-03:00</atom:updated><title>Pensamento vago do dia:</title><description>&lt;em&gt;"Se eu fosse puta, meu nome de guerra seria Shirlene..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só pra constar, não fui eu quem disse isso!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116563903587309187?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/12/pensamento-vago-do-dia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116373182107729673</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Nov 2006 02:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-12-07T21:19:15.940-03:00</atom:updated><title>Noites do Terror</title><description>Essa não é mais uma história de terror... Aconteceu com a amiga de uma amiga minha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É madrugada. Camila acorda com a bexiga incrivelmente cheia. Levanta-se e vai ao banheiro...&lt;br /&gt;Seria apenas mais uma madrugada se ela não estivesse prestes a presenciar um dos momentos mais aterrorizantes de sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;[Musiquinha de psicose]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chega ao banheiro e acende a luz. Alí, na sua frente, está &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt; criatura. Um pavoroso bicho de 2 metros de altura, antenas gigantes, carcaça escura. Um olhar ameaçador e sedento a lhe encarar.&lt;br /&gt;Ouvem-se gritos. De repente, a Barata-Gigante-Assassina começa a correr em sua direção e Camila, em pânico, tenta a todo custo fugir daquela criatura mutante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camila corre para o seu quarto e tenta fechar a porta. Mas o mostro gigante, em seus calcanhares, consegue entrar. Mais gritos. Andando de costas, Camila pisa no ventilador (e termina de quebra-lo). Pula em sua cama e, sem pensar, atira a primeira coisa que viu (leia-se, o indigitado ventilador destroçado).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A criatura-horripilante-assassina-das-trevas, machucada (ou não) desiste de sua presa e vai embora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camila, ainda com a bexiga cheia, tenta dormir e tem pesadelos a noite toda... Além, claro, de ter lavado o quarto e o banheiro com "detefom" na manhã seguinte... Só pra garantir...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116373182107729673?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/noites-do-terror.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116363566802936465</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Nov 2006 00:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-17T13:42:27.756-03:00</atom:updated><title>Essa vai pra formatura:</title><description>"O novo lema da Morena é: 'eu pego mas não me apego...'"&lt;br /&gt;"hehehehe... Tá mais pra 'eu me apego mas não pego...'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok... Eu sei que tô devendo o conto da Barata-gigante-assassina, mas um dia, com mais paciencia e bom humor, eu escrevo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116363566802936465?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/essa-vai-pra-formatura.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116296346948257302</guid><pubDate>Wed, 08 Nov 2006 05:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-13T14:31:11.020-03:00</atom:updated><title>Em breve...</title><description>O episódio da barata-gigante-assassina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não percam!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Só não conto agora pois já passa das duas da matina e eu preciso dormir, muito embora não esteja com nem um pingo de sono...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116296346948257302?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/em-breve.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116275253030525804</guid><pubDate>Sun, 05 Nov 2006 18:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-06T17:46:13.256-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Ok, ok...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sempre soube que com duas simples informações (sendo uma delas o nome) dava pra achar qualquer pessoa que tenha o perfil no orkut...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha curiosidade me venceu e eu fui procurar... Não foi nada dificil, é verdade. Pelo contrário, nem precisei procurar muito. Achei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não gostei do que achei... Nem um pouquinho...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De volta à ressaca moral... (acho que vou sair do orkut...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=~~~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116275253030525804?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/ok-ok.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116269491544892246</guid><pubDate>Sun, 05 Nov 2006 02:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-13T14:30:25.803-03:00</atom:updated><title>Fidelidade</title><description>"Você é fiel??"&lt;br /&gt;"Sou... Ao U2..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Outra da série pérolas...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116269491544892246?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/fidelidade.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116269472304157601</guid><pubDate>Sun, 05 Nov 2006 02:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-13T14:20:25.923-03:00</atom:updated><title>Da série: pérolas...</title><description>"Bono... Você é tão delícia..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116269472304157601?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/da-srie-prolas.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6451078.post-116242759934932556</guid><pubDate>Thu, 02 Nov 2006 00:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2006-11-01T21:33:19.350-03:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>Esse orkut...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorte de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;Pare de procurar eternamente; a felicidade está bem ao seu lado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6451078-116242759934932556?l=milavasques.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://milavasques.blogspot.com/2006/11/esse-orkut.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Camila)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>