<?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-3398550992436627931</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:29:57.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaningful thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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>136</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4810680061183887644</id><published>2008-07-17T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T04:15:54.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/SH8pjNBEGYI/AAAAAAAAAOM/wmWxkkfTcVE/s1600-h/DSC09977.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223939777539348866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/SH8pjNBEGYI/AAAAAAAAAOM/wmWxkkfTcVE/s400/DSC09977.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E então ele me pediu em casamento...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Com alho poro, salsinha, margaridas, alecrim, louro, cebolinha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Como manda a tradição, não é?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu vou casar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Amo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4810680061183887644?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4810680061183887644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4810680061183887644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/07/e-ento-ele-me-pediu-em-casamento.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/SH8pjNBEGYI/AAAAAAAAAOM/wmWxkkfTcVE/s72-c/DSC09977.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-443010565333739942</id><published>2008-07-15T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T05:10:58.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu amor tem olhos claros.</title><content type='html'>- (...) e então bonitinha, eu pensei em você para ser uma das chefs do Mercado com a gente. (...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando o Bruno me convidou para ir ao Mercado às quartas feiras eu sabia que ia ser uma coisa muito legal pra mim. O que eu não sabia era que isso ia mudar a minha vida completamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um cara enorme, com dois puta olhos azuis, de camiseta branca, carregando uma caixa de vinho e reclamando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Po, isso que dá ser ajudante de cozinha. Olha, tou até suando já! (pasando a mão no peito) Tive que pegar isso num puta quartinho minúsculo cheio de tralha. Você sabe como é, né?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu só lembro de ter sorrido e respondido que sabia sim, mas bem sem graça...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, eu era a única menina no meio daquele monte de homens gigantes. Ficava sem graça mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passamos o dia todo no Mercado, não ficamos muito tempo junto, mas eu observava de longe esse garoto que falava quase que gritando! Comemos frutas, ele me deu um figo doce, e pegou na minha perna quando estávamos tirando foto, na tentativa de não me deixar cair na escada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Na verdade, ele me pegou foi na minha virilha, mas super envergonhado e eu com o coração na boca...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse dia não nos despedimos. Ele disse que eu fui embora sem dar tchau e pra mim foi ele que desapareceu e não me deu tchau, mas tudo bem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem trocas de telefone, sem nenhuma esperança de encontro, assim dizendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu só sabia que ia vê-lo de novo dali 15 dias no Mercado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembro que eu falei pra Carla que tinha um bonitinho entre os chefs por lá, que eu tinha gostado muito...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na outra quarta feira ele estava todo de preto e chegou atrasado. Me viu conversando com um amigo e me cumprimentou rapidamente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ajudou a prender o chapeu e grampeou o meu cabelo junto.&lt;br /&gt;Nesse dia ficamos realmente o dia todo juntos. Comemos frutas, passeamos e conversamos sobre relacionamentos e família.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele me deu um morango na boca e alguém quis tirar uma foto.&lt;br /&gt;-dá um beijinho com o morango pra tirar a foto...&lt;br /&gt;-po, mas nem teve o primeiro beijo AINDA. (eu)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele me olhou um tanto espantado.&lt;br /&gt;-AINDA??!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu abracei ele e o Bruno fez um escândalo. "Pelo amor de Deus, sai daí menina, você não sabe em que merda você tá se metendo!!!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois ficou tudo mais fácil. Ele já tinha entendido que eu queria ele e eu já tinha entendido que ele me queria.&lt;br /&gt;Me chamou para sair e me chamou num canto para pegar meu telefone.&lt;br /&gt;Começamos a conversar mais perto, mais perto, mais perto, quando eu acabei levantando o rosto e beijando aquele menino engraçado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo que estavam em volta pararam para olhar os dois chefs se beijando...&lt;br /&gt;Beijo macio, abraço quente e confortável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele já logo me disse que não gostava de ficar, que queria namorar. Assim, na lata mesmo, depois de um beijo só. E incrivelmente eu não me assustei. Sabia que não ia querer ficar mais sem ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dessa vez nos despedimos e marcamos um próximo encontro.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o encontro não foi possível assim tão rápido...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No mesmo dia ele teve uma parada respiratória e eu um acidente de carro.&lt;br /&gt;Parecia que o mundo tinha freiado. Parado para ver duas partes que se encontraram, finalmente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passamos a nos falar um milhão de vezes por dia, a nos ver todos os dias, a namorar depois de alguns dias, a conhecer família, a planejar uma vida. Uma vida juntos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É uma coisa inexplicável encontrar um amor desse jeito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele dizia nunca querer ficar com uma menina mais nova. Eu dizia nunca me sentir atraída por loiros de olhos claros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E com a gente é uma loucura assim mesmo. Foi uma loucura e continua sendo.&lt;br /&gt;O que eu sei com certeza é que nunca sorri tanto desse jeito. Que quando estamos separados parece que falta um pedaço. Como se eu não tivesse uma perna, ou um braço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejo que todo mundo possa encontrar um amor pra vida toda.&lt;br /&gt;E hoje eu afirmo com todas as letras que existe sim almas gêmeas. E que a hora que elas se encontram, a vida não tem mais problema. De verdade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-443010565333739942?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/443010565333739942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/443010565333739942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/07/meu-amor-tem-olhos-claros.html' title='Meu amor tem olhos claros.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4249680743308172199</id><published>2008-07-04T04:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T04:35:09.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Agora vou casar e ter 5 filhos.&lt;br /&gt;Quero mais nada dessa vida, só você, você, você!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4249680743308172199?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4249680743308172199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4249680743308172199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/07/agora-vou-casar-e-ter-5-filhos.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2281591054827281910</id><published>2008-05-26T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T18:23:48.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pela primeira vez, estou VAZIA.&lt;br /&gt;E isso é a melhor coisa que poderia acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A natureza feminina e o sétimo de uma vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2281591054827281910?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2281591054827281910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2281591054827281910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/pela-primeira-vez-estou-vazia.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4489377216304074386</id><published>2008-05-17T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T20:22:11.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Você está me conquistando e eu estou me apaixonando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4489377216304074386?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4489377216304074386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4489377216304074386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/voc-est-me-conquistando-e-eu-estou-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-127432089856816087</id><published>2008-05-13T10:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T10:09:59.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is waiting&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my head is burning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm yearning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be done with all this measuring of truth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An eye for an eye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a tooth for a tooth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And anyway I told the truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I'm not afraid to die&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is burning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my head is glowing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm hoping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be done with all this weighing up of truth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An eye for an eye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a tooth for a tooth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I've got nothing left to lose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I'm not afraid to die.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is glowing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my head is smoking&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm hoping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be done with all this looks of disbelief&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An eye for an eye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a tooth for a tooth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And anyway there was no proof&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nor a motive why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is smoking&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my head is melting&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm helping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be done with all this twisted of the truth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A lie for a lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a truth for a truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I've got nothing left to lose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I'm not afraid to die.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is melting&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my blood is boiling&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm spoiling&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the fun with all this truth and consequence.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;An eye for an eye&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a truth for a truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And anyway I told the truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I'm not afraid to die.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the mercy seat is waiting&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I think my head is burning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And in a way I'm yearning&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be done with all this measuring of proof.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A life for a life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a truth for a truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And anyway there was no proof&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But I'm not afraid to tell a lie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-127432089856816087?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/127432089856816087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/127432089856816087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-mercy-seat-is-waiting-and-i-think.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8331877798579962435</id><published>2008-05-12T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T10:48:23.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E tudo que se imaginava mudou no dia em que ela foi (a) outra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8331877798579962435?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8331877798579962435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8331877798579962435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/e-tudo-que-se-imaginava-mudou-no-dia-em.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-568497382053553616</id><published>2008-05-10T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T15:37:06.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>uma garrafa de vinho, um cachimbo, um cobertor, um sofá, uma saudade.&lt;br /&gt;um disco, uma cama, uma fantasia, uma saudade.&lt;br /&gt;um lanche da madrugada, um pijama, um cigarro, uma saudade.&lt;br /&gt;uma conversa, umas risadas, uma garrafa de água, uma saudade.&lt;br /&gt;uma tv, um eu te amo, um colo, um carinho e uma saudade.&lt;br /&gt;infinitas SAUDADES.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-568497382053553616?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/568497382053553616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/568497382053553616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3898078875709667816</id><published>2008-05-08T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T21:15:08.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>o melhor beijo é o beijo desejado,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo que me completa,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo da minha forma adequada,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo com o sabor do desejo na flor da minha pele,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo da minha vontade,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo que faz o meu pensamento,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo que faz a minha boca e meu corpo querer um novo beijo outra vez e mais outra vez.&lt;br /&gt;O melhor beijo é o beijo sem tempo,&lt;br /&gt;o beijo de longa duração ou de pouca duração,&lt;br /&gt;um beijo de vinte segundos ou de vinte minutos, isto não importa.&lt;br /&gt;O tempo não conta, enquanto se beija o tempo para, o tempo freia.&lt;br /&gt;E nesta inércia do tempo só sinto a louca vontade do outro.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto a outra língua que de encontro com a minha faz um passeio suave e excitante umedecendo minha alma.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto a língua que viaja dos dentes ao céu da boca.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto a língua que acarinha os meus lábios.&lt;br /&gt;A língua e a língua...&lt;br /&gt;A língua que me roça, que me percorre, que me navega e que me lambe...&lt;br /&gt;O melhor beijo é o beijo em que a língua faz o beijo&lt;br /&gt;e o beijo faz o sexo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(O sexo.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3898078875709667816?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3898078875709667816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3898078875709667816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/o-melhor-beijo-o-beijo-desejado-o-beijo.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-9084135159544131614</id><published>2008-05-08T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T04:32:12.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>quando ele quis me fazer feliz&lt;br /&gt;eu não estava feliz pra fazer alguém feliz&lt;br /&gt;hoje ele é feliz&lt;br /&gt;e faz alguém mais feliz ainda.&lt;br /&gt;guardo no coração&lt;br /&gt;e fico feliz por te ver feliz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-9084135159544131614?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/9084135159544131614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/9084135159544131614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/quando-ele-quis-me-fazer-feliz-eu-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5260574643027638083</id><published>2008-05-06T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T12:20:46.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Besteira feita&lt;br /&gt;Por falta de uma, fiz mais&lt;br /&gt;Vou esconder no passado&lt;br /&gt;E enfiar a cabeça num buraco&lt;br /&gt;Fugir de todo mundo&lt;br /&gt;E cruzar os dedos&lt;br /&gt;Fingir para mim mesma&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não sou eu nesse corpo imundo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5260574643027638083?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5260574643027638083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5260574643027638083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/besteira-feita-por-falta-de-uma-fiz.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4003825005712613636</id><published>2008-05-03T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T09:38:12.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ssshhhiiiii</title><content type='html'>Acordei e senti um ventinho gostoso&lt;br /&gt;Aqueles ventinhos de frio, sabe?&lt;br /&gt;O sol tentando esquentar e o vento trazendo cheiro de frio&lt;br /&gt;Aí lembrei-me da sensação.&lt;br /&gt;Da sensação de nós dois naquela varanda de madeira. Dois resfriados e apaixonados.&lt;br /&gt;O vento batendo e os dois encantados. Encantados com o hotel, com a beleza do lugar, com a idéia de estarmos juntos.&lt;br /&gt;Só esse ventinho frio me fez lembrar da longa tarde naquela cama deliciosa, dos lençóis macios e na tentativa dos dois estranhos de esquecer o mundo e ficarem juntos.&lt;br /&gt;A vontade de saber absolutamente tudo. Onde tocar, o que dizer, os medos, os amigos, a infancia, a familia, os gostos e os desgostos.&lt;br /&gt;Ah!&lt;br /&gt;Vem ventinho frio... Pode bater aqui que eu nem ligo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4003825005712613636?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4003825005712613636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4003825005712613636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/ssshhhiiiii.html' title='ssshhhiiiii'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5664872580710637387</id><published>2008-05-02T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T09:28:09.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ah vá!</title><content type='html'>A necessidade de mudança, de mudar a direção.&lt;br /&gt;Mudei de lado, mudei meu horário, mudei meus sapatos, mudei minha comida.&lt;br /&gt;Passei por outros lugares e andei por outros caminhos.&lt;br /&gt;Mas tem coisa que não muda. Não muda mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Nos acostumamos a viver sem, muitas vezes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses dias uma das meninas chegou com o coração na mão, disse que tinha visto o pai da filha dela na rua. O dito cujo "amor da minha vida" que ela não via há 10 anos. Passou o dia atormentada e pensativa, como se todo aquele passado tivesse acontecido naquele dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses frios na barriga que marcam uma vida... Esses não são esquecidos jamais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu escuto o nome, vejo o carro, uma foto perdida, uma lembrança que foi esquecida; e me dá um enorme frio na barriga. Um arrepio na espinha!&lt;br /&gt;O tipo de coisa que eu me esforço para não lembrar e mais ainda para não esquecer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5664872580710637387?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5664872580710637387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5664872580710637387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/05/ah-v.html' title='ah vá!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2056022736406765307</id><published>2008-04-24T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T09:05:34.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ai que friozinho na barriga!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2056022736406765307?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2056022736406765307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2056022736406765307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/ai-que-friozinho-na-barriga.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7589334921676926571</id><published>2008-04-23T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T19:24:58.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When you decided to knock on my door.&lt;br /&gt;Did your remember what happened before?&lt;br /&gt;It just didn't sparkle it just didn't grow.&lt;br /&gt;Somethings are better to leave unexplored.&lt;br /&gt;Did you agree, we just let it be,&lt;br /&gt;And did you agree, It's a must...&lt;br /&gt;Let's call the whole thing off.&lt;br /&gt;We just have had enough of us.&lt;br /&gt;Let's call the whole thing off.&lt;br /&gt;We just have had enough of us.&lt;br /&gt;I know many people who met the same way.&lt;br /&gt;Relations that lastet for more then one day.&lt;br /&gt;But i don't wanna know why we couldn't do more.&lt;br /&gt;Somethings are better to leave unexplored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gostei do que vi, bem te vi! E isso não muda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7589334921676926571?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7589334921676926571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7589334921676926571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/when-you-decided-to-knock-on-my-door.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1833668672622539593</id><published>2008-04-22T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T19:57:01.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(...) usually when things has gone this far &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;people tend to disappear &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;no one would surprise me unless you do &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i can tell there's something goin' on &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;hours seem to disappear &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;everyone is leaving i'm still with you &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;it doesn't matter what we do &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;where we are going to &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;we can stick around and see this night through&lt;/em&gt; (...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1833668672622539593?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1833668672622539593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1833668672622539593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post_22.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7884091935148440862</id><published>2008-04-22T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T14:57:45.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dentro e dentro</title><content type='html'>Dentro de toda mulher existem duas mulheres. Uma é aquela que quer ser livre, que não precisa de nada ou ninguém. Aquela que pisa duro e pode ser até chamada de prostituta; nada abala. Que deseja a alegria e toda a paixão que a vida pode dar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tem aquela outra que quer constituir família, ser escrava de uma rotina. Que acredita que o amor é a resposta para tudo, que vai ter filhos, netos, bisnetos e vai sempre ter uma história de amor para contar com um happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A união das duas, o encontro de uma mulher consigo mesma pode ser um problema. Quando elas se encontram, são dois mundos, duas energias, dois pensamentos que se enfrentam. Se esse encontro não é mútuo, uma acaba anulando a outra.&lt;br /&gt;Geralmente esses encontros acontecem quando ela chega ao limite, precisando morrer e renascer emocionalmente. Na maior parte das vezes a mulher evita esse encontro, mas se é realmente mútuo, o universo muda de rumo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7884091935148440862?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7884091935148440862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7884091935148440862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/dentro-e-dentro.html' title='dentro e dentro'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7703211814195911201</id><published>2008-04-22T05:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T05:35:33.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Uma vasta e inesgotável educação. Ufa, ainda bem que eu tenho!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7703211814195911201?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7703211814195911201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7703211814195911201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/uma-vasta-e-inesgotvel-educao.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3334575127504836391</id><published>2008-04-22T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T04:35:05.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O meu vovô sempre diz:&lt;br /&gt;-"magrela, quando acontece alguma coisa coisa ruim que te faz sofrer e chorar é só para te preparar para algo muito melhor. assim você vai dar mais valor para as coisas boas que acontecerem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sábio vovô.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3334575127504836391?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3334575127504836391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3334575127504836391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-meu-vov-sempre-diz-magrela-quando.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5473680976543959442</id><published>2008-04-21T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T13:21:05.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Só para saber mesmo...&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/3398550992436627931-5473680976543959442?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5473680976543959442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5473680976543959442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/s-para-saber-mesmo.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3066918473772560292</id><published>2008-04-15T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T20:12:14.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Encarar ou não encarar?!</title><content type='html'>Ninguém quer ver seu mundo fora do lugar, desorganizado. Por isso muita gente fica assustada quando a paixão aparece e derruba todas as coisas velhas que encontra pela frente.&lt;br /&gt;Aquela paixão que faz a pessoa parar de comer, dormir, trabalhar, estar em paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De um lado estão aqueles que conseguem ficar em pé; os que superam a paixão e passam por cima de tudo sem qualquer remorso, embora sintam falta.&lt;br /&gt;E tem os outros... Os que estregam-se. Os que estão sempre esperando encontrar na paixão todas as soluções para os seus problemas.&lt;br /&gt;Esses acabam por colocar a responsabilidade de toda a sua felicidade na outra pessoa; e toda a culpa por sua infelicidade. Esses estão sempre eufóricos porque algo muito bom vai acontecer, ou tristes porque algo deu errado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me afastar ou me entregar? Qual acaba sendo menos dolorido?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3066918473772560292?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3066918473772560292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3066918473772560292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/encarar-ou-no-encarar.html' title='Encarar ou não encarar?!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8924730333394064610</id><published>2008-04-14T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T09:33:19.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Sim, eu te amo muito, como nunca amei outro homem, e justamente por isso devemos nos despedir. Porque se ficassemos, o sonho se transformaria em realidade, vontade de possuir, de desejar que sua vida seja minha e a minha, sua... enfim, de todas estas coisas que terminam transformando o amor em escravidão. Melhor assim: o sonho. Temos que ser cuidadosos com o que levamos de uma vida."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8924730333394064610?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8924730333394064610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8924730333394064610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/sim-eu-te-amo-muito-como-nunca-amei.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3496491938839467125</id><published>2008-04-08T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T12:00:17.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Não sei não...&lt;br /&gt;Mas tou com uma sensação tão gostosa hoje!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3496491938839467125?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3496491938839467125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3496491938839467125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-sei-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2939106798982905053</id><published>2008-04-06T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:54:45.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eles.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;Olha, eles podem bater, podem berrar, podem até ameaçar, mas sempre vão morrer de medo de uma mulher. Provavelmente não aquela com quem casaram-se, mas sempre vai existir uma que os assusta e os submete a todos os seus caprichos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2939106798982905053?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2939106798982905053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2939106798982905053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/eles.html' title='Eles.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6472946555643749427</id><published>2008-04-06T19:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:47:37.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheesecake.</title><content type='html'>Chegou a sobremesa.&lt;br /&gt;Nunca tinha comido algo tão delicioso feito com o queijo mais sem graça do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;A principal era só um mero detalhe perto da grandiosidade do sabor na minha boca.&lt;br /&gt;Infelizmente não consegui comer inteiro. O corpo já não aguentava mais a comida depois de tanto satisfazer-se de outros pratos.&lt;br /&gt;E foi então que me dei conta:&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo sendo a coisa mais prazerosa, é impossível deliciar-se a proveitar, estando-se &lt;em&gt;CHEIA&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6472946555643749427?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6472946555643749427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6472946555643749427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/cheesecake.html' title='Cheesecake.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4118490170235881370</id><published>2008-04-06T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:01:38.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waits.</title><content type='html'>Slow down you crazy child&lt;br /&gt;You're so ambitious for a juvenile&lt;br /&gt;But then if you're so smart tell me why&lt;br /&gt;Are you still so afraid?&lt;br /&gt;Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?&lt;br /&gt;You better cool it off before you burn it out&lt;br /&gt;You got so much to do and only&lt;br /&gt;So many hours in a day&lt;br /&gt;But you know that when the truth is told&lt;br /&gt;That you can get what you want&lt;br /&gt;Or you can just get old&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through&lt;br /&gt;When will you realize...Vienna waits for you?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slow down you're doing fine&lt;br /&gt;You can't be everything you want to be&lt;br /&gt;Before your time&lt;br /&gt;Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight&lt;br /&gt;Too bad but it's the life you lead&lt;br /&gt;You're so ahead of yourself&lt;br /&gt;That you forgot what you need&lt;br /&gt;Though you can see when you're wrong&lt;br /&gt;You know you can't always see when you're right&lt;br /&gt;You got your passion, you got your pride&lt;br /&gt;But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?&lt;br /&gt;Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true&lt;br /&gt;When will you realize...&lt;br /&gt;Vienna waits for you?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4118490170235881370?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4118490170235881370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4118490170235881370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/waits.html' title='waits.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2391573854555840562</id><published>2008-04-06T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T12:18:12.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>...quando algo aconteceu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2391573854555840562?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2391573854555840562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2391573854555840562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7676937218356274767</id><published>2008-04-06T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T18:55:04.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Coração vazio não pára em pé.</title><content type='html'>A cidade já não atrai mais e as paisagens são em preto e branco.&lt;br /&gt;A fome é tão grande que não existe mais o controle dos pensamentos, dos desejos, dos ansejos.&lt;br /&gt;Bem me quer, mal me quer. Bem me quer, mal me quer.&lt;br /&gt;Assim as pétalas vão voando e a espera de resposta continua me assombrando.&lt;br /&gt;Não fale do que não conhece.&lt;br /&gt;Então só sei falar de amor. Porque esse aí eu conheço.&lt;br /&gt;O acordar bem cedinho, vem o mundo amarelinho, deliciar-se com os beijos e carícias, a certeza numa vida, que de tão sua, já foi minha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo pára quando a gente quer amar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7676937218356274767?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7676937218356274767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7676937218356274767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/corao-vazio-no-pra-em-p.html' title='Coração vazio não pára em pé.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3456379209328652023</id><published>2008-04-03T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T06:54:33.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Acho totalmente desnecessário uma resposta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3456379209328652023?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3456379209328652023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3456379209328652023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/04/acho-totalmente-desnecessrio-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1282871552790473980</id><published>2008-03-27T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T19:03:03.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So, sad, so sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes she feels so sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alone in her apartment she'd well&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Till the man of her dreams&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comes to break the spell&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ahhh, stay, dont stand around&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and he comes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and he stays&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but he'd leave the next dayyyy, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;so saaaad,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes she feels so sad...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1282871552790473980?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1282871552790473980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1282871552790473980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-sad-so-sad-sometimes-she-feels-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2409808935601793919</id><published>2008-03-25T20:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T07:10:33.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Já contei que tenho características polimicrofoliculares?&lt;br /&gt;Pois então, é sorte minha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2409808935601793919?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2409808935601793919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2409808935601793919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/j-contei-eu-tenho-caractersticas.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1614391285265582996</id><published>2008-03-24T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T20:57:31.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Game Over</title><content type='html'>pode até ser que o tempo passe e as lembranças fiquem longes...&lt;br /&gt;que realmente nos afastemos e não nos lembremos mais do todo que um dia foi tudo.&lt;br /&gt;pode até ser que o coração dê voltas, que os olhares passeiem e as bocas conheçam.&lt;br /&gt;ah pode ser... pode ser... pode ser que não seja.&lt;br /&gt;pode ser que o que tinha já foi.&lt;br /&gt;e o que foi, foi único.&lt;br /&gt;mas é certeza que se houver amor;&lt;br /&gt;esse que permanece guardado no coração, nos lábios e nos abraços, esse guardadinho em cada lembrança,&lt;br /&gt;se houver o nosso amor, que é só nosso e do nosso jeito,&lt;br /&gt;então meu bem, o tempo há de nos lembrar&lt;br /&gt;e se o sonho for verdade, será esse &lt;em&gt;amor&lt;/em&gt; que nos reaproximará.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1614391285265582996?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1614391285265582996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1614391285265582996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/game-over.html' title='Game Over'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6830154865179306080</id><published>2008-03-23T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T11:56:05.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Assim sim.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-ansOsIWhI/AAAAAAAAAI4/TZTl15K9R2U/s1600-h/ATcAAABz6N0eksstl2gtHi-fBusVQ0SsV5u24phE7t2SygiWha3WO31cLumjHjQ-KkOtLeADXV8uAXfGzjnm6gvLZuPJAJtU9VAz2T0tci_CXMM7q0bf6ZGhQu7nUg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181012799635610130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-ansOsIWhI/AAAAAAAAAI4/TZTl15K9R2U/s400/ATcAAABz6N0eksstl2gtHi-fBusVQ0SsV5u24phE7t2SygiWha3WO31cLumjHjQ-KkOtLeADXV8uAXfGzjnm6gvLZuPJAJtU9VAz2T0tci_CXMM7q0bf6ZGhQu7nUg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6830154865179306080?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6830154865179306080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6830154865179306080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/assim-sim.html' title='Assim sim.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-ansOsIWhI/AAAAAAAAAI4/TZTl15K9R2U/s72-c/ATcAAABz6N0eksstl2gtHi-fBusVQ0SsV5u24phE7t2SygiWha3WO31cLumjHjQ-KkOtLeADXV8uAXfGzjnm6gvLZuPJAJtU9VAz2T0tci_CXMM7q0bf6ZGhQu7nUg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5911446069363701311</id><published>2008-03-23T04:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T04:52:34.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Você existe de verdade?&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu já te amo sem saber...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5911446069363701311?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5911446069363701311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5911446069363701311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/voc-existe-de-verdade-porque-eu-j-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6740668157888211661</id><published>2008-03-21T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T07:10:58.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tudo que eu queria era um sorvete gigante agora.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6740668157888211661?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6740668157888211661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6740668157888211661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/tudo-que-eu-queria-era-um-sorvete.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2545801084897624396</id><published>2008-03-20T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T19:09:39.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clashhh</title><content type='html'>Ela tinha acordado diferente, sentia um imenso amor dentro de si. Foi à janela e gritou para o mundo:&lt;br /&gt;-Quero você sempre!&lt;br /&gt;Todos acreditaram, mas ninguém entendeu.&lt;br /&gt;Esperou uma resposta, um grito vindo do outro lado. Mas lhe desejaram boas festas e mandaram-lhe beijos.&lt;br /&gt;Aí então, ela acordou diferente. Mas era diferente do diferente. Sentiu-se vazia e sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;O maior sentimento que lhe ofereciam era esse; a solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Como ela tinha esquecido? Como ela poderia ter esquecido?&lt;br /&gt;De certa forma ela foi feliz. Ela sorriu e deu tudo com alegria.&lt;br /&gt;Agora é hora de ter a chance, receber a alegria e os sorrisos.&lt;br /&gt;Então deixe a menina em paz! Ela só quer ser feliz...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2545801084897624396?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2545801084897624396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2545801084897624396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/clashhh.html' title='Clashhh'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6572503490234807254</id><published>2008-03-18T20:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:57:37.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bonita!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-CQMoM8BXI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sESJLjUqm4/s1600-h/girafa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179298118100583794" style="WIDTH: 205px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" height="304" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-CQMoM8BXI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sESJLjUqm4/s320/girafa.jpg" width="286" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Meu coração tá cantando...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6572503490234807254?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6572503490234807254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6572503490234807254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/bonita.html' title='Bonita!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R-CQMoM8BXI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4sESJLjUqm4/s72-c/girafa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7929584385974548634</id><published>2008-03-16T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T13:15:04.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like I do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She was given to me to put things right&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I stacked all my accomplishments beside her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Still I seemed so obselete and small&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I found God and all His devils inside her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In my bed she cast the blizzard out&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A mock sun blazed upon her head&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So completely filled with light she was&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her shadow fanged and hairy and mad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Our love-lines grew hopelessly tangled&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the bells from the chapel went jingle-jangle&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you love me? Do you love me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you love me? Do you love me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you love me? Do you love me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you love me? Like I love you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7929584385974548634?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7929584385974548634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7929584385974548634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/like-i-do.html' title='Like I do?'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7021017506685957924</id><published>2008-03-15T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T19:29:37.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Você adora comer com as mãos...&lt;br /&gt;(hihihi)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7021017506685957924?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7021017506685957924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7021017506685957924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/voc-adora-comer-com-as-mos.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8245241199517713526</id><published>2008-03-14T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T07:03:02.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudosa</title><content type='html'>Vem quando menos se espera,&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes insiste em ficar, ás vezes logo se despede.&lt;br /&gt;São as coisas longes que parecem perto.&lt;br /&gt;Gritar por dentro um nome.&lt;br /&gt;A alma chorando.&lt;br /&gt;Um grande torturador desejo de ver, ouvir, falar, olhar, sentir e tocar.&lt;br /&gt;O pensamento persistente.&lt;br /&gt;Vontades que querem ser repetidas.&lt;br /&gt;O não constante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso chama-se saudade. A minha saudade.&lt;br /&gt;Mas na minha saudade tem certeza. Ah, grande certeza!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8245241199517713526?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8245241199517713526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8245241199517713526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/saudosa.html' title='Saudosa'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5258461726671864662</id><published>2008-03-14T06:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T07:05:45.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De novo...</title><content type='html'>Ele é...&lt;br /&gt;É intensidade ofuscante.&lt;br /&gt;É saber viver.&lt;br /&gt;É riso intenso.&lt;br /&gt;É amor sem recalques.&lt;br /&gt;É pensar como criança.&lt;br /&gt;É agir como adulto.&lt;br /&gt;É filosofar delirante.&lt;br /&gt;É um cair construtivo.&lt;br /&gt;É um justo dolorido.&lt;br /&gt;É paixão alucinante.&lt;br /&gt;É experimentação de liberdade.&lt;br /&gt;É proteção sem pertença.&lt;br /&gt;É perdição viciante.&lt;br /&gt;É perfume corporal.&lt;br /&gt;É loucura pensante.&lt;br /&gt;É um domingão de sol.&lt;br /&gt;É beleza marcante.&lt;br /&gt;É o esquecer impossível.&lt;br /&gt;Impossível.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5258461726671864662?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5258461726671864662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5258461726671864662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/de-novo.html' title='De novo...'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8769736873950426185</id><published>2008-03-13T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T06:32:34.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marry me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;E no primeiro dia, no primeiro beijo, na primeira conversa, no primeiro abraço ele ouviu aquela frase...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;"eu vou casar com você, sei disso."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Parecia absurda, precipitada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Mas depois de tanta coisa, todo esse tempo, a frase continua a mesma, só ela sabe e tem certeza disso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8769736873950426185?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8769736873950426185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8769736873950426185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/marry-me.html' title='Marry me'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7666356796005481017</id><published>2008-03-12T04:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T05:27:58.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E potranca</title><content type='html'>Me ensinaram que mulher quer casar e ter filhos.&lt;br /&gt;Que não arrota e senta de pernas cruzadas.&lt;br /&gt;Que sabe cozinhar e deixar a casa arrumada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensinaram que mulher tem que ser forte e também carente.&lt;br /&gt;Que não joga bola e faz as unhas.&lt;br /&gt;Que não anda sozinha ou paga conta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensinaram que mulher come pouco e cuida do corpo.&lt;br /&gt;Que não briga e não fala palavrão.&lt;br /&gt;Que namora e não deixa passar a mão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensinaram que mulher sabe discernir e guardar.&lt;br /&gt;Que não bebe demais e não fala alto.&lt;br /&gt;Que usa saia e tem cabelo comprido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ensinaram que a mulher é criança, esposa, filha, amante, puta, virgem, bruxa, mãe e blá blá blá.&lt;br /&gt;Definitivamente eu não aprendi a ser mulher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7666356796005481017?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7666356796005481017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7666356796005481017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/e-potranca.html' title='E potranca'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7926158984827815898</id><published>2008-03-10T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T19:50:12.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como todos os meus pensamentos, essas coisas ficam só boiando.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não tem um começo, não tem um fim.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ficam só BOIANDO.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7926158984827815898?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7926158984827815898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7926158984827815898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/como-todos-os-meus-pensamentos-essas.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1271741329851791152</id><published>2008-03-10T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T11:22:18.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Que cuti cuti.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Achei muito engraçado quando eu estava trabalhando e um homem muito simpático parou, ficou olhando para mim e me disse que eu tinha o sorriso mais lindo que ele já tinha visto. Como que de propósito, o sorriso aumentou ainda mais, mas é claro.&lt;br /&gt;Aí eu reparei que nos outros dias em que eu vi aquele homem, ele elogiou outras mulheres, homens, comida e até deu parabéns para uma árvore que não parava de crescer.&lt;br /&gt;Pensei que ele fosse mais um louco no mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Mas então resolvi perguntar o porquê disso tudo. Por que elogiar todo mundo assim se todos achavam que ele era louco agindo dessa forma?&lt;br /&gt;E ele me disse que parecia, mas ele não era louco. Na verdade, ele era apaixonado por viver e gostava de mostar para cada um os pequeno detalhes que faziam diferença e que poucos conseguiam ver.&lt;br /&gt;-veja só, eu elogiei o seu sorriso outro dia. Realmente é um dos sorriso mais lindos que eu já vi, se não, o mais lindo. Com certeza você sabe disso; talvez já tenham te falado, talvez não. Mas um estranho te falar isso, tenho certeza de que fez uma grande diferença no seu dia, na sua vida, no seu belíssimo sorriso. E é essa diferença que eu faço na vida das pessoas, dos seres vivos, mostrando as pequenas coisas tão importantes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu achei lindo.&lt;br /&gt;Em alguns momentos eu acho que não sei o que é amor, que nunca senti, que nunca vou ou quero sentir. Em outros, tenho a certeza absoluta de que os Beatles estão certos e que definitivamante &lt;em&gt;all you need is love&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Agora, exatamente agora, eu sinto o maior dos amores do mundo dentro de mim e isso me dá medo. Mas é um medo bom, um amor medroso, grande e forte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas ainda assim tenho medo do que vai acontecer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1271741329851791152?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1271741329851791152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1271741329851791152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/que-cuti-cuti.html' title='Que cuti cuti.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5705537357893014551</id><published>2008-03-08T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T17:43:37.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>uhu!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;The smile on your face lets me know that you need me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;There's a truth in your eyes, saying you'll never leave me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;The touch of your hand, says you'll catch me wherever I fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;You say it best when you say nothing at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5705537357893014551?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5705537357893014551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5705537357893014551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/uhu.html' title='uhu!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3436032528081632577</id><published>2008-03-08T04:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T05:03:18.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Deitada no seu peito ouvindo o seu cantarolar baixinho&lt;br /&gt;Parece uma caixa de som fazendo eco no meu ouvido.&lt;br /&gt;É o som mais gostoso, o momento mais intenso&lt;br /&gt;Ficaria o resto da vida só assim te sentindo vivo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3436032528081632577?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3436032528081632577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3436032528081632577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/deitada-no-seu-peito-ouvindo-o-seu.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7571276403049641034</id><published>2008-03-06T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T14:16:31.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuore!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R9Bomp_QnOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/lf33nJPEVyw/s1600-h/DSC09584+(Large).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174750985164201186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R9Bomp_QnOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/lf33nJPEVyw/s320/DSC09584+(Large).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Vejam só, o meu grande amor pela comida me parece bem maior agora.&lt;br /&gt;Na minha vida real as coisas são muito simples: passa um ser desconhecido, sorri, eu sorrio de volta. Ganho o dia, e por que não?!&lt;br /&gt;É justamente nesse encontro de sorrisos que nota-se o primeiro sinal de calor humano.&lt;br /&gt;A afinidade procurada no levantar de bochechas do outro.&lt;br /&gt;E depois de tudo é só esperar.&lt;br /&gt;O coração pula, quer sair, vem à boca.&lt;br /&gt;Fala-se de coração, escuta-se com o coração, sente bater, sente parar. Fica com o coração na mão ou dá leveza ao coração.&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes ele parece apertado, outras, parece ter o tamanho do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;E saber de cor é guardar dentro do coração.&lt;br /&gt;Sua expressão é cordial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu coração fica aí voando... E não tem jeito de sussegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R9BnMp_QnNI/AAAAAAAAAIg/1pCzT-3W7jc/s1600-h/DSC09584+(Large).JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7571276403049641034?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7571276403049641034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7571276403049641034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/cuore.html' title='Cuore!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R9Bomp_QnOI/AAAAAAAAAIo/lf33nJPEVyw/s72-c/DSC09584+(Large).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2604876174908520119</id><published>2008-03-04T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T19:57:45.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Só nosso.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R84Zyp_QnMI/AAAAAAAAAIY/e9s3KaU6uRA/s1600-h/campos+(41)+(Large).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174101379950615746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R84Zyp_QnMI/AAAAAAAAAIY/e9s3KaU6uRA/s320/campos+(41)+(Large).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Onde o mundo parou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As horas esperaram&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E o amor se encontrou. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Amantes que não se conheciam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ali se encontraram&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu e você, você e eu.&lt;/div&gt;Nada muda aquele momento&lt;br /&gt;O nosso momento&lt;br /&gt;Que por mais rápido que tenha sido,&lt;br /&gt;Foi só nosso e nunca poderia ser repetido. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2604876174908520119?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2604876174908520119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2604876174908520119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/s-nosso.html' title='Só nosso.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R84Zyp_QnMI/AAAAAAAAAIY/e9s3KaU6uRA/s72-c/campos+(41)+(Large).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-671645342103011041</id><published>2008-03-04T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T19:40:44.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Can I lay in your bed all day?&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your best kept secret&lt;br /&gt;And your biggest mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep my jealousy close&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's all mine&lt;br /&gt;And if you say this makes you happy&lt;br /&gt;Then I'm not the only one lying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-671645342103011041?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/671645342103011041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/671645342103011041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/can-i-lay-in-your-bed-all-day-ill-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7850256016131954149</id><published>2008-03-04T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T19:30:47.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Certeza.</title><content type='html'>Uma calma interna,&lt;br /&gt;Uma tranquilidade estranha,&lt;br /&gt;Uma certeza absoluta,&lt;br /&gt;Um sentimento completo,&lt;br /&gt;Pensamentos estranhos e certos.&lt;br /&gt;Não errados; certos. Incrivelmente certos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que será que tá escrito aí pra mim?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7850256016131954149?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7850256016131954149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7850256016131954149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/certeza.html' title='Certeza.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1511823462981078199</id><published>2008-03-03T08:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T08:36:19.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>;)</title><content type='html'>Eu desejo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu desejo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu desejo que você me peça pra ficar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pronto. Desejo apertando os olhos e os dedos BEM forte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1511823462981078199?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1511823462981078199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1511823462981078199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=';)'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3907976362300765115</id><published>2008-03-01T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T15:57:31.538-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaii, o amor... huuummm, o sexo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8ntVj6TCSI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1rah_5CJIio/s1600-h/045205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172926601684519202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8ntVj6TCSI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1rah_5CJIio/s320/045205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8nmOz6TCRI/AAAAAAAAAII/S27AfQ68ssg/s1600-h/045205.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nem uma palavra, e o domínio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Apenas aquele gemido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ao pé do ouvido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E um longo suspiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Conheço o corpo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não tem nada de novo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mas os dentes no seu pescoço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tem o gosto escondido,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aquele sabor de pele que foi perdido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Que nunca por esse lábios seria esquecido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Prende, vira, bate, muda, agrada e agride&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meu amor, meu safado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cara, como tens o meu agrado?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Olha nos meus olhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Morde os lábios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Morde a perna&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sobe e desce, nesse ritmo que o convém,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Com o fogo que encontras só em mim e em mais ninguém.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não tem como fugir,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não há como enganar;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me derreto nos teus braços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enlouqueço com seu toque&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E não me canso de te amar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3907976362300765115?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3907976362300765115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3907976362300765115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/aaii-o-amor-huuummm-o-sexo.html' title='Aaii, o amor... huuummm, o sexo!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8ntVj6TCSI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/1rah_5CJIio/s72-c/045205.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-773628424475337441</id><published>2008-03-01T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T14:19:11.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Wish You Were Here...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't you know the snow is getting colder?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I miss you like hell...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I'm feeling blue...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss your laugh, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss your smile,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I miss everything about you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every second's like a minute,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every minute's like a day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When you're far away...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The snow is getting colder, baby,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I Wish You Were Here...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A battlefield of love and fear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I Wish You Were Here...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've got feelings for you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From the first time I laid my eyes on you... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aaii coração...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-773628424475337441?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/773628424475337441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/773628424475337441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/03/wish-you-were-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4968319331639788565</id><published>2008-02-28T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T19:08:40.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;"Why worry?&lt;br /&gt;There should be laughter after pain...&lt;br /&gt;There should be sunshine after rain...&lt;br /&gt;These things have always been the same...&lt;br /&gt;So why worry now?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4968319331639788565?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4968319331639788565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4968319331639788565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-worry-there-should-be-laughter.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-738494650083879429</id><published>2008-02-28T05:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T05:33:54.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>!</title><content type='html'>Cada macaco no seu(meu) galho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-738494650083879429?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/738494650083879429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/738494650083879429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/blog-post.html' title='!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4968931308024454678</id><published>2008-02-27T19:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T19:34:58.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>twice</title><content type='html'>me ame duas vezes.&lt;br /&gt;quero ver o sorriso, quero ser o sorriso; o sorriso deorelhaorelha.&lt;br /&gt;me ame duas vezes.&lt;br /&gt;pule no meu travesseiro e rasgue a minha pele.&lt;br /&gt;aí, me ame duas vezes.&lt;br /&gt;jogue as cartas, faça um filme e de gargalhadas.&lt;br /&gt;e por favor, me ame duas vezes.&lt;br /&gt;esconda o rosto e sinta o meu gosto.&lt;br /&gt;ei, me ame duas vezes!&lt;br /&gt;mexa minha panela, puxe meu cabelo e leia os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;mas então não me ame mais duas vezes. me ame pela última vez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4968931308024454678?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4968931308024454678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4968931308024454678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/twice.html' title='twice'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6289808797767151903</id><published>2008-02-26T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T19:46:50.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8Tc4Y0ws7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/ieeNCAXhrDY/s1600-h/corpo+(45).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171501133422703538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8Tc4Y0ws7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/ieeNCAXhrDY/s320/corpo+(45).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8TbDY0ws4I/AAAAAAAAAGk/kCjt_nyhBio/s1600-h/Poser+(242).JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eles disseram que não tem com o que se preocupar.&lt;br /&gt;Sabe a contra-mão?&lt;br /&gt;Parece que nascestes para andar nela.&lt;br /&gt;Mas assim que vai andando, vai mudando, vai acreditando e enganando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faz um bolo e toma água.&lt;br /&gt;Você é igualzinho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6289808797767151903?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6289808797767151903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6289808797767151903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/eles-disseram-que-no-tem-com-o-que-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R8Tc4Y0ws7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/ieeNCAXhrDY/s72-c/corpo+(45).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-543646149336075383</id><published>2008-02-26T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T06:49:27.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Venha!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tragam festas e flores.&lt;br /&gt;Tragam copos e dores.&lt;br /&gt;Tragam incensos e odores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-543646149336075383?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/543646149336075383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/543646149336075383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/venha.html' title='Venha!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6635385402514483260</id><published>2008-02-21T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T18:39:10.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah neca!</title><content type='html'>Ei, não te deixo mais ganhar!&lt;br /&gt;Viu?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6635385402514483260?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6635385402514483260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6635385402514483260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/ah-neca.html' title='Ah neca!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5559562900474148952</id><published>2008-02-21T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T18:36:36.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadi(xx)mo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;e essa loucura sádica faz o querer ficar maior e mais confuso.&lt;br /&gt;o coração quase pula pra fora do peito enquanto o olhar tenta desviar-se e fingir-se desatento.&lt;br /&gt;o tal amor te pergunta: o que queres com tais atitudes?&lt;br /&gt;e o tempo só consegue responder que a loucura quer te enlouquecer e fazer-te escravo desse orgulho.&lt;br /&gt;são tantos os sinais tortos e tu aqui soluçando...&lt;br /&gt;os dedos te confundindo&lt;br /&gt;e tu continua errando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5559562900474148952?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5559562900474148952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5559562900474148952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/sadixxmo.html' title='Sadi(xx)mo'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3885573198481005318</id><published>2008-02-21T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T19:50:36.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, she does.</title><content type='html'>I just don't fit&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And when we meet again &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Introduced as friends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please don't let on that you knew me when&lt;br /&gt;I was hungry and it was your world.&lt;br /&gt;You fake just like a woman, yes you do&lt;br /&gt;And you make love like a woman, yes you do&lt;br /&gt;And then you ache just like a woman,&lt;br /&gt;but you break just like a little girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3885573198481005318?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3885573198481005318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3885573198481005318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/yeah-she-does.html' title='Yeah, she does.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4351272804923718236</id><published>2008-02-20T13:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T19:51:26.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bicycle races</title><content type='html'>A intenção não é essa, mas eu preciso contar da minha bicicleta.&lt;br /&gt;Segunda-feira no caótico trânsito de todos os dias, eu estava ouvindo "bicycle race" do Queen enquanto reclamava outra vez da merdadoscarrosnaminhafrente e pensei o quanto seria ótimo se eu tivesse ainda a minha bicicleta e pudesse ir trabalhar com ela...&lt;br /&gt;Aí surge aquela linda lâmpada de desenho animado indicando uma idéia genial na minha cabeça: por que não comprar uma bicicleta???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei SUPER feliz em casa e contei para minha mãe: "Mãããããeeeee, vou comprar uma bicicleta". O que eu ouvi foi a "engraçada" brincadeira: "Mas por que você não casa ao invés de comprar uma bicicleta?"&lt;br /&gt;(Sabe aquela frase: "não sei se caso ou se compro uma bicicleta?", entendeu, entendeu? ah, deixa pra lá...)&lt;br /&gt;Ha-ha-ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas poxa... Uma menininha feliz demais, com um sorrisão no rosto, sentada numa bicicleta rosa com cestinha na frente, joelhos cheios de cicatrizes, pernas e braços machucados porém, em um de seus melhores momentos da vida. Essa era eu e a minha bicicleta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, no dia seguinte namorei uma bicicleta linda numa lojinha e amanhã vou concretizar o meu bem mais querido.&lt;br /&gt;E enquanto o Belo Principe não vem me pedir em casamento eu vou malhando as pernocas, economizando gasolina e estacionamento para facilitar pra ele!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Bicycle races are coming your way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So forget all your duties oh yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fat bottomed girls they'll be riding today&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So look out for those beauties oh yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On your marks get set go&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bicycle race bicycle race bicycle race"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só para compartilhar a mais nova loucura de andar de bicicleta em São Paulo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4351272804923718236?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4351272804923718236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4351272804923718236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/inteno-no-essa-mas-eu-preciso-contar-da.html' title='Bicycle races'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2825569858702320673</id><published>2008-02-20T03:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T04:41:54.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cruzando os dedos bem forte...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2825569858702320673?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2825569858702320673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2825569858702320673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/cruzando-os-dedos-bem-forte.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3324844973019448099</id><published>2008-02-19T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T18:36:50.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7uRoo0ws2I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/F2YmhsZOD6E/s1600-h/DSC09887+(Medium).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168885124677284706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7uRoo0ws2I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/F2YmhsZOD6E/s320/DSC09887+(Medium).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sabe quando tudo fica distorcido?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Puuufff, perde-se o controle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3324844973019448099?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3324844973019448099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3324844973019448099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/sabe-quando-tudo-fica-distorcido.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7uRoo0ws2I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/F2YmhsZOD6E/s72-c/DSC09887+(Medium).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3771170660342476803</id><published>2008-02-18T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:46:39.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mentir dói mais que amar.</title><content type='html'>A sensação de que perdi algo.&lt;br /&gt;Algo que nunca mais eu vou achar...&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu nem gostaria de achar.&lt;br /&gt;Minto.&lt;br /&gt;Mentir pra mim é sacanagem e nem eu acredito em mim...&lt;br /&gt;Queria ser diferente, queria agir diferente, me fazer diferente pra ser diferente de você.&lt;br /&gt;Porque nos seus olhos eu me vejo e no seu corpo eu me completo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não posso falar, eu não posso ouvir, eu não posso procurar e eu não posso olhar&lt;br /&gt;Como eu disse, a maldição é séria, séria, séria.&lt;br /&gt;O que eu posso é sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Sentir aquilo que eu perdi,&lt;br /&gt;Que eu perdi dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não quero mais achar.&lt;br /&gt;E sendo assim, eu vou continuar a mentir&lt;br /&gt;Até o dia que tudo isso sumir e eu poder sorrir pra ti(mim).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3771170660342476803?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3771170660342476803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3771170660342476803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/mentir-di-mais-que-amar.html' title='Mentir dói mais que amar.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4750502023081441092</id><published>2008-02-18T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T18:11:42.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'>may i feel said he</title><content type='html'>may i feel said he  &lt;br /&gt;(i'll squeal said she  &lt;br /&gt;just once said he)  &lt;br /&gt;it's fun said she  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(may i touch said he  &lt;br /&gt;how much said she  &lt;br /&gt;a lot said he)  &lt;br /&gt;why not said she  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(let's go said he  &lt;br /&gt;not too far said she  &lt;br /&gt;what's too far said he&lt;br /&gt;where you are said she)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may i stay said he  &lt;br /&gt;(which way said she &lt;br /&gt; like this said he  &lt;br /&gt;if you kiss said she  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may i move said he  &lt;br /&gt;is it love said she)  &lt;br /&gt;if you're willing said he  &lt;br /&gt;(but you're killing said she&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's life said he  &lt;br /&gt;but your wife said she  &lt;br /&gt;now said he)  &lt;br /&gt;ow said she  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(tiptop said he  &lt;br /&gt;don't stop said she  &lt;br /&gt;oh no said he)  &lt;br /&gt;go slow said she  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(cccome?said he  &lt;br /&gt;ummm said she)  &lt;br /&gt;you're divine!said he  &lt;br /&gt;(you are Mine said she)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*ee cummings&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4750502023081441092?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4750502023081441092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4750502023081441092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/may-i-feel-said-he.html' title='may i feel said he'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5356093666003088978</id><published>2008-02-18T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T04:22:14.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Só"</title><content type='html'>O menino sozinho no show. Aquele outro menino almoçando sozinho no restaurante. Um menino viajando sozinho. Menininho ouvindo música e meditando no parque. Um outro menino ainda que fica em casa um sábado a noite. Mais um menino que cria estranhos animais em sua casa sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A solidão me atrai. Não é uma coisa ruim, longe disso.&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente um sozinho atrai outro sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a solidão é muito boa. É deliciosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Né, menino sozinho?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5356093666003088978?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5356093666003088978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5356093666003088978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/s.html' title='&quot;Só&quot;'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8483635038175692795</id><published>2008-02-17T11:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T11:05:11.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Não ouço, não falo, não vejo, não ligo.&lt;br /&gt;A maldição é séria, muito séria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8483635038175692795?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8483635038175692795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8483635038175692795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-ouo-no-falo-no-vejo-no-ligo.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8090933864170809787</id><published>2008-02-17T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T08:24:26.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nananinanão</title><content type='html'>E sempre tem aquelas coisas que não podem mudar de jeito nenhum.&lt;br /&gt;O meu carbonara só pode ser com spaghetti. Nenhuma outra massa, támentendendo?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8090933864170809787?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8090933864170809787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8090933864170809787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/nananinano.html' title='Nananinanão'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3584965882901853524</id><published>2008-02-16T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T14:28:49.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7djiI0ws1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/1Pc3IymC34E/s1600-h/campos+(33)+(Small).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167708535566414674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7djiI0ws1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/1Pc3IymC34E/s320/campos+(33)+(Small).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No entanto não era raiva, mas amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Amor tão forte que só esgotava sua paixão na força do ódio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3584965882901853524?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3584965882901853524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3584965882901853524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-entanto-no-era-raiva-mas-amor.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/R7djiI0ws1I/AAAAAAAAAGI/1Pc3IymC34E/s72-c/campos+(33)+(Small).JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-693191591719058994</id><published>2008-02-15T02:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T02:29:33.471-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now and then</title><content type='html'>The past is so familiar&lt;br /&gt;But that's why you couldn't stay&lt;br /&gt;Too many ghosts, too many haunted dreams&lt;br /&gt;Beside you were built to find your own way...&lt;br /&gt;But after all these months, I thought we'd still hold on&lt;br /&gt;But when I reach for you and search your eyes&lt;br /&gt;I see you've already gone...&lt;br /&gt;That's OK&lt;br /&gt;I'll be fine&lt;br /&gt;I've got myself, I'll heal in time&lt;br /&gt;But when you leave just remember what we had...&lt;br /&gt;There's more to life than just you&lt;br /&gt;I may cry but I'll make it through&lt;br /&gt;And I know that the sun will shine again&lt;br /&gt;Though I may think of you now and then...&lt;br /&gt;Can't do a thing with ashes&lt;br /&gt;But throw them to the wind...&lt;br /&gt;Though this heart may be in pieces now&lt;br /&gt;You know I'll build it up again and&lt;br /&gt;I'll come back stronger than I ever did before&lt;br /&gt;Just don't turn around when you walk out that door...&lt;br /&gt;That's OK&lt;br /&gt;I'll be fineI've got myself, I'll heal in time... but when you leave just remember what we had...&lt;br /&gt;There's more to life than just you&lt;br /&gt;I may cry but I'll make it through&lt;br /&gt;And even though our stories at the end&lt;br /&gt;I still may think of you now and then...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-693191591719058994?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/693191591719058994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/693191591719058994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-and-then.html' title='Now and then'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8875645830268685312</id><published>2008-02-14T02:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T03:42:05.641-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>poupe-me dessas palavras.&lt;br /&gt;o caminho mais errado foi seguido, todos viram ele errado, você viu que era errado; mas como eu também seguiu&lt;br /&gt;não foi?&lt;br /&gt;ah, mas quem foi aquele que disse que não sofreu, não errou, não sofreu de novo, e chorou, chorou, chorou, chorou?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vem cá, vai, mostra aquele sorrisão que você tem&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8875645830268685312?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8875645830268685312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8875645830268685312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/poupe-me-dessas-palavras.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8649147911447209665</id><published>2008-02-13T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T17:57:19.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se um dia encontrar alguém que você realmente goste, esqueça as pequenas coisas.&lt;br /&gt;Porque nada é pior do que sentir-se sozinho; mesmo estando cercado de gente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8649147911447209665?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8649147911447209665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8649147911447209665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/se-um-dia-encontrar-algum-que-voc.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-661064998039128912</id><published>2008-02-09T09:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T09:20:57.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>e decidir encontrar-se?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-661064998039128912?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/661064998039128912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/661064998039128912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/e-decidir-encontrar-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4020896112339367170</id><published>2008-02-08T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T06:42:32.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tu olhas ora para mim, ora para as nuvens.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto que estás tão longe quando olhas para mim e tão perto quando olhas para as nuvens...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4020896112339367170?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4020896112339367170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4020896112339367170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/tu-olhas-ora-para-mim-ora-para-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2406482329836196963</id><published>2008-02-08T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T06:43:36.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O jornal das pequenas coisas.</title><content type='html'>O ventinho de chuva batendo no rosto; vai vir chuva, ah vai! O telefona tocou e era a vovó, ela só queria dizer que amava, não queria atrapalhar, só dizer o quanto amava.&lt;br /&gt;O coelhinho lambe a perna e pede colo. Igual um cachorrinho, igualzinho.&lt;br /&gt;Um email veio de longe e trouxe um enorme sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;Queimou feio a mão e ficou feliz; a cozinha é maravilhosa desse jeito assim.assim.&lt;br /&gt;Um feliz aniversário fez alguém feliz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2406482329836196963?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2406482329836196963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2406482329836196963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/o-jornal-das-pequenas-coisas.html' title='O jornal das pequenas coisas.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7539084026807723355</id><published>2008-02-06T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:09:36.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(sorriso)</title><content type='html'>tanto tempo sem dizeres, tanto tempo esse vazio&lt;br /&gt;é possível só ter algo a se dizer com extremo do amor ou do ódio na cabeça?&lt;br /&gt;a longa espera por alguém que vai aparecer, que tem que aparecer&lt;br /&gt;alguém que aceite essa loucura, que seja essa loucura;&lt;br /&gt;o meu ódio e o meu amor.&lt;br /&gt;sentimentos tolos que me fazem mais tola ainda e sem ter o que dizer.&lt;br /&gt;os pensamentos entram a todo segundo mas não vão embora; ficam e perturbam o sono, a mente, o corpo&lt;br /&gt;esses pensamentos que hoje são tão raros e errados e me fazem carregar esse fardo de amar e odiar para fingir ter emoções e algo a te falar&lt;br /&gt;vá embora, feche a porta e nunca mais venha me ver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7539084026807723355?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7539084026807723355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7539084026807723355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2008/02/sorriso.html' title='(sorriso)'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5078484683367103582</id><published>2007-12-29T13:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T13:17:01.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>***</title><content type='html'>Aquele passado que encanta...&lt;br /&gt;Aquela saudade que é certeza...&lt;br /&gt;Aquela pessoa que ficou sempre ali...&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que tem que acontecer...&lt;br /&gt;Coisas que acontecem porque tem que acontecer. Não existe tempo, paixões, palavras, que  mudem o que veio para ficar.&lt;br /&gt;E fica?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5078484683367103582?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5078484683367103582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5078484683367103582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title='***'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2551313061621163832</id><published>2007-12-27T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T02:14:41.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insanidade da mente...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Às vezes a sensação de estar voando, às vezes dançando, esvaziada de tudo, grande, pequena, indo reto, rodando, mero detalhe no universo da água morna em movimento. E a mente? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Primeiro observa, atenta, com um pouco de medo prende o corpo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Depois, um milagre: à medida que aumenta a entrega, as articulações profundas relaxam e a mente se dilui junto às sensações da pele e da carne.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Continuam passando idéias e imagens pela cabeça de um modo muito solto, assim como a água também passa num jorro quente e macio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A atenção está tão presente aos acontecimentos do corpo que os pensamentos &lt;em&gt;ficam só boiando.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2551313061621163832?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2551313061621163832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2551313061621163832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/insanidade-da-mente.html' title='Insanidade da mente...'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-485229609074459540</id><published>2007-12-24T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T06:23:53.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Febre...</title><content type='html'>As coisas caem da minha mão.&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas não entendem o que eu falo.&lt;br /&gt;A crítica passou a ser elogio, e o elogio, a crítica.&lt;br /&gt;Algo bom de se pensar.&lt;br /&gt;E nos pensamentos eu converso. Converso com você.&lt;br /&gt;Neles você me aconselha e enquanto eu te dou bronca.&lt;br /&gt;São horas de vontades, desejos e palavras reprimidas dentro desse vulcão prestes a entrar em erupção.&lt;br /&gt;Mas ela é forte! Ah, como é forte!&lt;br /&gt;Engano seu. Engano nosso.&lt;br /&gt;Guarda tudo...&lt;br /&gt;Cada palavra, cada roupa, cada grito, cada decepção, cada sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;Guardou e esqueceu.&lt;br /&gt;Mas um dia, claro, ela lembrou!&lt;br /&gt;E a cabeça explodiu.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais fez sentido; as coisas caíram de suas mãos e ninguém mais entendeu suas palavras.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje ela precisa dos seus conselhos, mas não tem coragem de contar a verdadeira história.&lt;br /&gt;E isso dói.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-485229609074459540?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/485229609074459540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/485229609074459540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/febre.html' title='Febre...'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7814488192192497979</id><published>2007-12-21T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T10:34:26.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"&gt;"A vida muda quando &lt;em&gt;VOCÊ&lt;/em&gt; muda."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7814488192192497979?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7814488192192497979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7814488192192497979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/vida-muda-quando-voc-muda.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4204350421096993669</id><published>2007-12-10T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T11:24:02.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>E no meio de toda aquela gente,&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;eu reparei em você.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você ainda não pode nem imaginar, mas o futuro é nosso, meu bem...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4204350421096993669?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4204350421096993669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4204350421096993669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/e-no-meio-de-toda-aquela-gente-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2032748395619814376</id><published>2007-12-06T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T17:59:19.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ué...</title><content type='html'>Não sei se é gostoso. Não sei se é o certo.&lt;br /&gt;Só sei que esqueci. Esqueci a cor do carro. Esqueci o nome da rua. Esqueci que cor é o lençol. Esqueci o sobrenome. Esqueci o telefone. Esqueci as risadas e as taças de vinho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhei e não vi. Não me vi ali e não senti você mais aqui...&lt;br /&gt;O sorriso não mostra mais vontade e o abraço, por mais que caloroso, não tem faíscas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que comi algo estragado; a dor de barriga passa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2032748395619814376?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2032748395619814376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2032748395619814376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/12/u.html' title='ué...'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-1384869138097995577</id><published>2007-11-30T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T19:25:17.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Housewife</title><content type='html'>I'll always be by your side&lt;br /&gt;Even when you're down and out&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to be your housewife&lt;br /&gt;All i wanted was to be your housewife&lt;br /&gt;I'll iron your &lt;a onmouseover="window.status='Search for: clothes'; self.lm_skeyphrase='clothes'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); if(window.event) self.lm_sevent=window.event.srcElement; self.lm_timeout = setTimeout('lm_doMouseOver(1)', 1500); self.lm_isOverLink=true; self.lm_isOverTip=false; return true;" style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 3px double; TEXT-DECORATION: none" onclick="window.status='Searching for: clothes...'; self.lm_skeyphrase='clothes'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); self.lm_isOverTip = false; lm_closeiframe(); window.open('http://www.srch-results.com/lm/dir_rxt.asp?si=19902&amp;amp;k=clothes&amp;amp;ref='+window.location,'_blank','toolbar=yes,location=yes,directories=yes,status=yes,menubar=yes,scrollbars=yes,copyhistory=yes,resizable=yes'); return false; " onmouseout="window.status='Search for: clothes'; self.lm_isOverTip = false; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); setTimeout('lm_closeiframe()', 1500);" href="http://letras.terra.com.br/cocorosie/367818/#"&gt;clothes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll shine your &lt;a onmouseover="window.status='Search for: shoes'; self.lm_skeyphrase='shoes'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); if(window.event) self.lm_sevent=window.event.srcElement; self.lm_timeout = setTimeout('lm_doMouseOver(1)', 1500); self.lm_isOverLink=true; self.lm_isOverTip=false; return true;" style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 3px double; TEXT-DECORATION: none" onclick="window.status='Searching for: shoes...'; self.lm_skeyphrase='shoes'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); self.lm_isOverTip = false; lm_closeiframe(); window.open('http://www.srch-results.com/lm/dir_rxt.asp?si=19902&amp;amp;k=shoes&amp;amp;ref='+window.location,'_blank','toolbar=yes,location=yes,directories=yes,status=yes,menubar=yes,scrollbars=yes,copyhistory=yes,resizable=yes'); return false; " onmouseout="window.status='Search for: shoes'; self.lm_isOverTip = false; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); setTimeout('lm_closeiframe()', 1500);" href="http://letras.terra.com.br/cocorosie/367818/#"&gt;shoes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll make your &lt;a onmouseover="window.status='Search for: bed'; self.lm_skeyphrase='bed'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); if(window.event) self.lm_sevent=window.event.srcElement; self.lm_timeout = setTimeout('lm_doMouseOver(1)', 1500); self.lm_isOverLink=true; self.lm_isOverTip=false; return true;" style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 3px double; TEXT-DECORATION: none" onclick="window.status='Searching for: bed...'; self.lm_skeyphrase='bed'; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); self.lm_isOverTip = false; lm_closeiframe(); window.open('http://www.srch-results.com/lm/dir_rxt.asp?si=19902&amp;amp;k=bed&amp;amp;ref='+window.location,'_blank','toolbar=yes,location=yes,directories=yes,status=yes,menubar=yes,scrollbars=yes,copyhistory=yes,resizable=yes'); return false; " onmouseout="window.status='Search for: bed'; self.lm_isOverTip = false; if(self.lm_timeout) clearTimeout(self.lm_timeout); setTimeout('lm_closeiframe()', 1500);" href="http://letras.terra.com.br/cocorosie/367818/#"&gt;bed&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And cook your food&lt;br /&gt;I'll never cheat&lt;br /&gt;I'll be the best girl you'll ever meet&lt;br /&gt;And for a diamond ring&lt;br /&gt;I'll do these kinds of things&lt;br /&gt;I'll scrub your floor&lt;br /&gt;Never be a bore&lt;br /&gt;I'll tuck you in I do not snore&lt;br /&gt;I'd wear your black eyes&lt;br /&gt;Bake you apple pies&lt;br /&gt;I don't ask why And i trys not to crys&lt;br /&gt;I'll always be by your side&lt;br /&gt;Even when you're down and out&lt;br /&gt;And its nearly midnight&lt;br /&gt;And all i want with my life Is to be a housewife&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's nearly midnight And all i want with my life Is to die a housewife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deu pra entender?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-1384869138097995577?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1384869138097995577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/1384869138097995577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/housewife.html' title='Housewife'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2800155036359824916</id><published>2007-11-28T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T18:54:22.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto de separação</title><content type='html'>De repente do sorriso fez-se o pranto&lt;br /&gt;Silencioso e branco como a bruma&lt;br /&gt;E das bocas unidas fez a espuma&lt;br /&gt;E das mãos espalmadas fez o espanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De repente da calma fez-se o vento&lt;br /&gt;Que dos olhos desfez a última chama&lt;br /&gt;E da paixão fez-se o pressentimento&lt;br /&gt;E do momento imóvel fez-se o drama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De repente, não mais que de repente&lt;br /&gt;Fez-se de triste o que se fez amante&lt;br /&gt;E de sozinho o que se fez contente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fez-se do amigo próximo o distante&lt;br /&gt;Fez-se da vida uma aventura errante&lt;br /&gt;De repente, não mais que de repente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V.M. (1938)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2800155036359824916?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2800155036359824916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2800155036359824916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/soneto-de-separao.html' title='Soneto de separação'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5868635156603669342</id><published>2007-11-25T20:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T20:36:32.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sorte de hoje: Seu maior sonho vai se realizar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5868635156603669342?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5868635156603669342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5868635156603669342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/sorte-de-hoje-seu-maior-sonho-vai-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2743058630784328127</id><published>2007-11-24T13:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T13:16:15.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Os sinais.&lt;br /&gt;Já reparou nos sinais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo são os sinais...&lt;br /&gt;Eles me guiam, me avisam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2743058630784328127?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2743058630784328127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2743058630784328127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/os-sinais.html' title=''/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4135846937638205768</id><published>2007-11-22T06:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T06:22:40.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>;)</title><content type='html'>Vamos vestidos de Joel e Clementine na festa a fantasia?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4135846937638205768?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4135846937638205768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4135846937638205768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_22.html' title=';)'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-4568439197463164110</id><published>2007-11-21T04:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T04:33:07.194-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma "mundança"</title><content type='html'>Um dia você acorda e o sorriso não é mais o mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Você olha-se no espelho e nem ao menos conhece a pessoa que vê.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O cabelo muda.&lt;br /&gt;O pensamento muda.&lt;br /&gt;O corpo muda.&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas ao redor mudam.&lt;br /&gt;O quarto muda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existem pessoas que assistem as mudanças e lamentam o resto da vida elas terem acontecido.&lt;br /&gt;Eu prefiro vivê-las e descobrir o quanto elas são boas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-4568439197463164110?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4568439197463164110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/4568439197463164110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/uma-mundana.html' title='Uma &quot;mundança&quot;'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6576579561862370614</id><published>2007-11-20T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T06:25:10.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tudo, tudo, tudo.</title><content type='html'>De repente ela sentia tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Ela dava gargalhadas e sentia as lágrimas.&lt;br /&gt;Ela abraçava para não gritar.&lt;br /&gt;Ela fingia entender para não ouvir de novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raiva, o amor, a tristeza, a alegria. Ela sentiu. Ela sentiu tudo querendo sair. Soltando por cada parte de seu corpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E então ela cansou. Despediu-se, ligou o carro.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que ainda havia um sorriso. Mas esse agora era só dela. Só ela merecia ele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6576579561862370614?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6576579561862370614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6576579561862370614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/tudo-tudo-tudo.html' title='Tudo, tudo, tudo.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-2799148578254589730</id><published>2007-11-09T03:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T04:15:50.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>As caixas do armário.</title><content type='html'>Depois da limpeza do armário, uma pergunta.&lt;br /&gt;-Mas por que raios você guarda tanta caixa nesse armário? Só serve para juntar sujeira mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peraí. São lembranças, não acúmulos de sujeira.&lt;br /&gt;Minha neurose sistemática por arrumação me permite guardar tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entre as caixas, as recordações de uma infância engraçada mostrada nas cartas dos mais diversos tipos trocadas entre as meninas. Tem as que estão em rolos, cheias de coisas coladas; quando nos víamos todos os dias e não tínhamos assunto para escrever, a carta acabava sendo uma colagem de revista.&lt;br /&gt;“Ele é lindo”- e a foto do Brad Pitt&lt;br /&gt;Em outras, envelope com endereço. Tinham as amigas que moravam longe, e outras que o correio só servia para variar um pouco o envio da carta. (quem não fica feliz em receber algo pelo bom e velho correio?)&lt;br /&gt;Fora a imensa imaginação de fazer cartas com o formato de revista “capricho”, em rolos e sanfonas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa outra caixa, pintado “objetos de recordação” na tampa, está o que realmente pode parecer lixo. Porque só eu entenderia o porquê de guardar um copo de plástico picotado em forma de flor. Mas é lindo, acredite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As caixas de fotos. A época em que as fotos eram impressas e colocadas nos álbuns Kodak azul e amarelo. Época boa. Lembrei que comecei a fazer um álbum de cão e parei na metade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em determinadas temporadas eu tenho fascínio por tintas. E na maior das caixas está minha coleção de tinta guache, de tecido, de parede, com glitter e assim vai. Ontem desenhei um muffin na parede... Foi uma temporada de criatividade infantil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A caixa com fitas não é minha. Minha mãe faz coleção de fitas e eu acabei adotando a caixa dela. Afinal, já tenho tantas e ela não tinha onde guardar... E fitas são úteis, muito úteis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recordações de namorado?&lt;br /&gt;Fui obrigada a jogar as antigas fora. Dizem que não é bom guardar coisas desse tipo. Principalmente dentro do seu quarto... Melhor não contrariar, fica só o atual, por favor...&lt;br /&gt;E pensando bem, tem coisas que não são boas de lembrar mesmo. Isso sim acumularia sujeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas chega. Chega das caixas.&lt;br /&gt;Pra falar a verdade é raro eu ficar mexendo nelas. Mas não quero jogar fora. São minhas recordações...&lt;br /&gt;Algumas coisas você só lembra quando vê de novo e pra isso servem as minhas caixas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você aí. Guarda muita sujeira em casa?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-2799148578254589730?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2799148578254589730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/2799148578254589730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/as-caixas-do-armrio.html' title='As caixas do armário.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8163837175820795887</id><published>2007-11-09T03:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T04:18:12.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(?)</title><content type='html'>"...Resta esse diálogo cotidiano com a morte, esse fascínio&lt;br /&gt;Pelo momento a vir, quando, emocionada&lt;br /&gt;Ela virá me abrir a porta como uma velha amante&lt;br /&gt;Sem saber que é a minha mais nova namorada"&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/3398550992436627931-8163837175820795887?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8163837175820795887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8163837175820795887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_09.html' title='(?)'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-3389148712317509733</id><published>2007-11-08T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T10:47:28.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>restrospecto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Você chegou bem devagar.&lt;br /&gt;Conquistou meu coração com um sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;Me deixou vermelha de vergonha com apenas um beijo no rosto.&lt;br /&gt;O começo, a euforia.&lt;br /&gt;Uma paixão avassaladora.&lt;br /&gt;Meses de insegurança e insistências; seria mesmo para acontecer?&lt;br /&gt;Teria de haver luz.&lt;br /&gt;Havia amor, ah, isso havia.&lt;br /&gt;E uma pequena e funda esperança.&lt;br /&gt;Vimos o mundo com os olhos um do outro. E aprendemos a nos respeitar.&lt;br /&gt;O título talvez nunca venha a existir, mas sempre teremos as noites de domingo e o posto de gasolina.&lt;br /&gt;A esperança em uma viagem.&lt;br /&gt;Quero te mostrar o que você quer ver e não viu.&lt;br /&gt;Quero que você me acalme num jantar à luz de velas.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver o amor crescer, a vontade crescer, a minha barriga crescer e a nossa história crescer junto.&lt;br /&gt;E que história!&lt;br /&gt;Nossos netos sentariam no tapete para ouvir tal história de amor.&lt;br /&gt;E você me olharia com a mesma paixão e sorriria o mesmo sorriso daquele primeiro dia.&lt;br /&gt;As belezas do mundo quero ver com quatro olhos e dois corações.&lt;br /&gt;A sua opinião eu quero ouvir e discordar. Para depois chegarmos a conclusão de que cada um está 50% certo.&lt;br /&gt;Se um dia vão saber, eu não posso nem imaginar...&lt;br /&gt;Sei somente que cúmplice desse amor eu sempre vou ser. E um segredo eu sempre vou guardar, mas esse, meu querido, só o meu coração vai poder um dia te contar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-3389148712317509733?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3389148712317509733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/3389148712317509733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/restrospecto.html' title='restrospecto'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-6017985020503339615</id><published>2007-11-08T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T09:47:09.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sim.</title><content type='html'>“Existe em todos os homens, a todas as horas, duas posições simultâneas, uma em direção a Deus, outra a Satã...” Baudelaire, 1887&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-6017985020503339615?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6017985020503339615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/6017985020503339615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/sim.html' title='sim.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-8129556745852260369</id><published>2007-11-08T06:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T06:50:18.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>S2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/RzMhhU1xvKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/eolRRdr4d7k/s1600-h/amor.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130481256918793378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kzduk_Jb8dw/RzMhhU1xvKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/eolRRdr4d7k/s400/amor.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;O amor deixa o sorriso mais bonito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E vice versa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-8129556745852260369?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8129556745852260369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/8129556745852260369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/s2.html' title='S2'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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/_kzduk_Jb8dw/RzMhhU1xvKI/AAAAAAAAAF0/eolRRdr4d7k/s72-c/amor.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5231200427368502413</id><published>2007-11-08T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T12:25:49.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>:))</title><content type='html'>Sentados na varanda, entre goles de vinho branco, conversávamos sobre a vida.&lt;br /&gt;-você já assistiu "labirinto"?&lt;br /&gt;Ele fumava o cachimbo, eu o cigarro.&lt;br /&gt;Eu pensava no quanto é bom tê-lo por perto e ele continuava a falar das graças da vida...&lt;br /&gt;De repente o silêncio. Mas esse já não era mais problema.&lt;br /&gt;Era gostosa a hora de pensar sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;Os seus dedos passeavam pelos meus cabelos e nesse embalo eu adormeci no seu ombro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais, ele me levou para cama. Esquecemos de escovar os dentes.&lt;br /&gt;No meio da madrugada um beijo e eu te amo.&lt;br /&gt;Ficaríamos sem tomar café da manhã por dias.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5231200427368502413?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5231200427368502413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5231200427368502413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_3038.html' title=':))'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7542503831478258353</id><published>2007-11-08T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T06:09:51.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>People keep diaries to know about themselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7542503831478258353?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7542503831478258353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7542503831478258353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post_08.html' title='.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-7083327611483907069</id><published>2007-11-06T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T10:20:22.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Não faça de novo.&lt;br /&gt;Não faça de novo.&lt;br /&gt;Não faço de novo, não faço, não faço, não, não, não.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-7083327611483907069?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7083327611483907069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/7083327611483907069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3398550992436627931.post-5591554907164200198</id><published>2007-10-25T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T09:16:31.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Música para meus ouvidos!</title><content type='html'>Música... Aaahh música!&lt;br /&gt;Sabe, para mim, música é a coisa mais pessoal que existe.&lt;br /&gt;Muito mais do que a própria calcinha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outro dia uma das minhas melhores amigas, entenda, das melhores mesmo; amizade de 18 anos, fez o seguinte comentário:&lt;br /&gt;-Eu nunca soube dizer que estilo de música você gosta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estilo de música? Estilo de música... Música... Música... Música...&lt;br /&gt;Volta então à minha afirmação. Música é a coisa mais pessoal que existe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho super interessante quando alguém quer me mostrar algo novo. Ou algo que goste. Mas eu, sinceramente nunca soube fazer isso.&lt;br /&gt;Escutar música é um dos meus maiores prazeres, sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já bati o pé em rave, já pulei em show de metal, já cantei junto com o cantor em show, já vi bandas de amigos, já dancei forró coladinho, já sambei com a carla perez, já sorri com a flauta celta, já imitei as spice girls, já ouvi o que estava na moda e o que nunca seria moda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eclética? Não, eu não sou eclética.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ouço de tudo, eu não gosto de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Aliás, o que eu gosto de ouvir eu sei muito bem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você escuta metal e nunca caiu no samba?&lt;br /&gt;Para dizer que você gosta exclusivamente de um, você tem que conhecer o outro e não gostar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E talvez você nunca entenda o que eu ouço, porque a minha música, é música para os meus ouvidos. E só.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3398550992436627931-5591554907164200198?l=danygrandi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5591554907164200198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3398550992436627931/posts/default/5591554907164200198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danygrandi.blogspot.com/2007/10/msica-para-meus-ouvidos.html' title='Música para meus ouvidos!'/><author><name>Miss Grandi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06919245002993595945</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></entry></feed>
