<?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-275570279320602380</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:54:21.775Z</updated><title type='text'>Kit Kat Confidences</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-2394834127040436786</id><published>2010-03-07T14:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-03-07T15:56:55.399Z</updated><title type='text'>Os pequenos nadas do dia-a-dia</title><content type='html'>Que infeliz existência é aquela de alguém que se sente feliz com um pequeno e minúsculo feito ao longo do dia.&lt;br /&gt;Que existência parva e inútil esta...sem dar nada a ninguém. É a nossa existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só eu para ficar concretizada por ter consigo mudar a cama inteira sozinha..Entretanto os livros de estudo acumulam pó. Viva eu!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-2394834127040436786?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/2394834127040436786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2010/03/os-pequenos-nadas-do-dia-dia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/2394834127040436786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/2394834127040436786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2010/03/os-pequenos-nadas-do-dia-dia.html' title='Os pequenos nadas do dia-a-dia'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-8904193054417168605</id><published>2009-12-07T17:13:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-12-07T18:09:21.020Z</updated><title type='text'>Quero é viver!</title><content type='html'>Este ano tenho vindo a analizar poemas e textos de Fernando Pessoa Ortónimo e Heterónimos nas aulas de Português &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[que têm sido beyond brilliant *-* &lt;b&gt;ADORO!&lt;/b&gt;].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É inacreditável como consigo encontrar sentimentos/emoções/pensamentos que tenho tão equivalentes aos que apreendo dos poemas dele e dos seus Heterónimos. Embora, por um lado, considere a teoria de vida do Ricardo Reis uma completa 'charupada', tinha por uma das bases a teoria Horaciana do "CARPE DIEM". Assim, encontrei no outro dia estes poemas e tive a ousadia &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[único tipo de ousadia que ultimamente tenho tido]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; de gritar 'é isso mesmo!'. Ricardo Reis remete-se claramente a uma teoria Horaciana do "CARPE DIEM" com a qual concordo: aproveitar o presente, viver cada dia da melhor maneira sem pensar demais no passado ou no futuro. A cada dia que passa, passando pelos obstáculos, vencendo-os, não os ultrapassando...vou-me apegando mais a esta teoria e vou vivendo. Porque ao recordar o passado há sempre coisas que nos vão atormentar...e o desconhecimento do futuro atrofia-nos completamente. Porém, enquanto pensamos nisto tudo (no que foi, no que virá) estamos a perder o presente &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[p.e., este segundo já foi gasto a pensar nisto e a escrevê-lo...será que valeu a pena?].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;Não creias,&lt;/strong&gt; Lídia, que &lt;strong&gt;nenhum estio&lt;br /&gt;Por nós perdido possa regressar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Oferecendo a flor&lt;br /&gt;Que adiámos colher.&lt;br /&gt;Cada dia te é dado uma só vez&lt;br /&gt;E no redondo círculo da noite&lt;br /&gt;Não existe piedade&lt;br /&gt;Para aquele que hesita. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Uns, com os olhos postos no passado,&lt;br /&gt;Vêem o que não vêem: outros, fitos&lt;br /&gt;Os mesmos olhos no futuro, vêem&lt;br /&gt;O que não pode ver-se.&lt;br /&gt;Por que tão longe ir pôr o que está perto —&lt;br /&gt;A segurança nossa? &lt;strong&gt;Este é o dia,&lt;br /&gt;Esta é a hora, este o momento, isto&lt;br /&gt;É quem somos, e é tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Perene flui a interminável hora&lt;br /&gt;Que nos confessa nulos.&lt;strong&gt; No mesmo hausto&lt;br /&gt;Em que vivemos, morreremos. Colhe&lt;br /&gt;o dia, porque és ele.&lt;/strong&gt; "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Ricardo Reis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como diria o António Variações: &lt;u&gt;"Quero é viver!"&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yG7334OWRkg&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yG7334OWRkg&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"Vou viver&lt;br /&gt;até quando eu não sei&lt;br /&gt;que me importa o que serei&lt;br /&gt;quero é viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã, espero sempre um amanhã&lt;br /&gt;e acredito que será&lt;br /&gt;mais um prazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a vida é sempre uma curiosidade&lt;br /&gt;que me desperta com a idade&lt;br /&gt;interessa-me o que está para vir&lt;br /&gt;a vida em mim é sempre uma certeza&lt;br /&gt;que nasce da minha riqueza&lt;br /&gt;do meu prazer em descobrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar, renovar, vou fugir ou repetir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou viver,&lt;br /&gt;até quando, eu não sei&lt;br /&gt;que me importa o que serei&lt;br /&gt;quero é viver&lt;br /&gt;amanhã, espero sempre um amanhã&lt;br /&gt;eacredito que será mais um prazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida é sempre uma curiosidade&lt;br /&gt;que me desperta com idade&lt;br /&gt;interessa-me o que está para vir&lt;br /&gt;a vida, em mim é sempre uma certeza&lt;br /&gt;que nasce da minha riqueza&lt;br /&gt;do meu prazer em descobrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar, renovar vou fugir ou repetir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou viver&lt;br /&gt;até quando eu não sei&lt;br /&gt;que me importa o que serei&lt;br /&gt;quero é viver,&lt;br /&gt;amanhã, espero sempre um amanhã&lt;br /&gt;e acredito que será mais um prazer."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~António Variações&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;See y'a!,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;C.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;listening to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; 'La Valse D'Amélie' ; Yann Tiersen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[makes me remmember Lisbon, Fernando Pessoa and the fact that life is always being wasted, passing us by...in such speed...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;video's credits:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; youtube.com ; bazaroco &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[I simply started singing it...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-8904193054417168605?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/8904193054417168605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/12/quero-e-viver.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8904193054417168605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8904193054417168605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/12/quero-e-viver.html' title='Quero é viver!'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-8244648100792530692</id><published>2009-12-07T15:55:00.031Z</published><updated>2009-12-07T18:04:22.471Z</updated><title type='text'>I AM BACK! (:</title><content type='html'>Após algumas semanas &lt;s&gt;[ou terão sido &lt;b&gt;meses&lt;/b&gt;?]&lt;/s&gt; de deliberação e promessas falhadas, não mudei nada no meu blog. Irei mudar posteriormente...talvez. Pelo menos gostaria de pensar que haverá uma pequena possibilidade de isto acontecer. Sejamos realistas, eu sou um pouco como o Carlos da Maia... prometo, sonho, planeio e nunca concretizo. Talvez me modifique, esperemos que sim...prometamos, sonhemos, planeemos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até lá vou dando notícias e escrevendo porque ando a &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;precisar&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; de escrever! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[até já ando a escrever comecei ou 'ç'...&lt;s&gt;há com cada &lt;u&gt;desgraça gramatical&lt;/u&gt; proveniente da minha pessoa&lt;/s&gt;].&lt;/span&gt; &lt;u&gt;Concluindo&lt;/u&gt;: vou abrir de novo o blog para todos. E aqui vamos nós... (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to a new and bright beginning! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[hoje estou &lt;s&gt;&lt;b&gt;estupidamente&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/b&gt; confiante]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sx0ww3LZadI/AAAAAAAAAG8/FXGEgisNG0o/s1600-h/sunrise_over_tower_bridge_by_speedclicker666.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412535943172811218" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sx0ww3LZadI/AAAAAAAAAG8/FXGEgisNG0o/s400/sunrise_over_tower_bridge_by_speedclicker666.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X's,&lt;br /&gt;Cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;listening to:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; 'The Hurlers' ; Seth Lakeman Band&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[reminds me to get up and do something to change]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;image's credits:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; deviantART.com ; speedclicker666&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[reminds me of a fresh new beginning]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-8244648100792530692?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/8244648100792530692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8244648100792530692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8244648100792530692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-am-back.html' title='I AM BACK! (:'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sx0ww3LZadI/AAAAAAAAAG8/FXGEgisNG0o/s72-c/sunrise_over_tower_bridge_by_speedclicker666.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-7724487345556546159</id><published>2009-10-04T15:08:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T01:39:30.994+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando a vida dá uma volta de 180º...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;s&gt;[e não uma de 360º]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há coisas incríveis, a sério. Nestas duas últimas semanas a minha vida e a minha visão sobre o mundo mudou totalmente. Há coisas que acontecem, que nos mudam e é..absolutamente estranho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao falar de novo com a mesma pessoa e depois do post "I did it" e após conhecer outras pessoas, mudar de ares, viver a vida de cada dia, aproveitando cada segundo... cheguei a uma conclusão fatal. Concluí que durante um ano estive apaixonada por uma ideia, um ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porém, como diria a música dos Kaiser Chiefs, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"It's not my fault / I don't care /I don't regret a single thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;". De momento não me arrependo de nada, o futuro virá e viver numa prisão psicológica não me serve de nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao visitar outros países durante este ano aprendi que o que mais necessito é de um pouco de liberdade na minha vida. A todos os níveis. Neste momento estou com uma pessoa e num ambiente de amigos, companhias que me permitem ter essa liberdade de opinião, expressão e ser tão livre quanto me é possível de momento. E mesmo assim gostam de mim tal como sou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B é passado...foi o que concluí numa certa tarde de quinta-feira após duas semanas absolutamente maravilhosas e após ter corrido o horrível risco de perder I...Realmente há pessoas que se importam e com as quais vale a pena ficar, outras que nem por isso. E, no entanto, o que perdura é a sensação de que o que foi bom e o que é bom, acaba...acabará sempre, mas o que importa realmente é o agora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei à conclusão que houve imensos momentos em que a minha vida poderia ter dado esta tal de volta de 180º mas não deu...não há nada melhor que aproveitar as mudanças que nos melhoram e não aquelas que nos pioram. Estou bastante feliz de momento e pretendo continuar assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso, sexta-feira foi um dia decisivo em que podia perder tudo e no qual tive que tomar uma decisão importante para a minha vida amorosa. Contudo, embora pensasse que nesse dia me iria sentir infestada com dúvidas, não senti...senti-me confiante. Sabia o que queria fazer, sabia que a resposta seria I, viesse o que viesse, acontecesse o que acontecesse...mesmo que acabasse sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolvi fazer uma surpresa romântica e fui ter à escola de I...&lt;s&gt;[subir o MP custa para caraças!]&lt;/s&gt;. Após ter encontrado I, disse-lhe que tínhamos de ir até ao parque &lt;s&gt;[onde estava a surpresa]&lt;/s&gt;. Silêncio absoluto durante a descida até ao parque. Eu sabia que I estava com raiva...talvez só um pouco angry, mas mesmo assim não nos seus melhores dias. Manteve-se o silêncio incomodativo. Eu tinha planeado começar a introduzir a conversa para a surpresa enquanto nos dirigíamos para o parque mas sabia que não ia conseguir [pelo menos fui inteligente e planeei as coisas para o caso de tal ocorrer]. Mal chegámos disse-lhe: "fica a olhar para aí e não olhes para trás porque vou buscar a tua surpresa" [para um banco no qual eu tinha escrito 'fiz isto pq nao sabia q mais fazer...']. Após ter ido buscar, mostrei-lhe a surpresa e fui abraçada tão repentinamente e de forma tão apertada que até fiquei zonza. Parecia ter gostado. O resto...é história. ;D Conclusão: fui perdoada e fiquei com I (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passei a tarde com os amigos de I e até foi giro...pessoal com miolos a menos mas bastante divertido. Pelo que parece acharam que eu era algo agressiva [e já tenho demasiadas pessoas a dizerem o mesmo] mas no entanto divertida. Foi uma óptima tarde... (: Sem restrições, simplesmente sermos quem somos, partilharmos histórias, [&lt;s&gt;atirar-mos pedras uns aos outros&lt;/s&gt;], rirmo-nos até não poder mais.... (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que é assim...é assim que o mundo devia ser. Todos mais tolerantes. Deixar viver os outros. E com isto não pretendo leccionar lições de moral. Quem sou eu para o fazer? Mas é simplesmente como &lt;strong&gt;acho &lt;/strong&gt;que se devia fazer. Esse seria talvez, na minha opinião, um mundo melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lições de moralismo à parte, amanhã à tarde vai ser outro dia como sexta-feira. Estou bastante ansiosa, embora seja no PN [onde moram pessoas conhecidas que não pretendo re-ver]. Já alguma vez referi como odeio certas pessoas?! Enfim &lt;s&gt;[sim, eu sei que acabaste de morrer com esta, Nice]&lt;/s&gt;... Tenho fé [ha ha yeah...right] que tudo vai correr bem tal como correu sexta-feira. (: (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bjs a todos e um óptimo fim-de-semana!! Deverei postar mais qualquer coisa lá para o fim do dia, visto que tenho estado a ignorar a minha vida virtual &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;totalmente&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. More posts full of fandom to come (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cheers Mates!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-7724487345556546159?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7724487345556546159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/10/quando-vida-da-uma-volta-de-180.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7724487345556546159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7724487345556546159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/10/quando-vida-da-uma-volta-de-180.html' title='Quando a vida dá uma volta de 180º...'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-6196114514091871476</id><published>2009-09-21T18:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:11:50.208+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do you think I've gone too far?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I did it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Guilty as charged&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I did it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was me right or wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I did it"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dave Matthews Band&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;"I did it",&lt;/em&gt; Everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Não me abandones nesta margem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu sou parte da viagem"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clã&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;"Pequena Morte",&lt;/em&gt; Cintura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally did it. One whole year waiting for this crucial moment and it finally happened. Gained some courage, whether it was inspired in some crazy dream or not, and did it. For all that's worth, I'm proud of myself. Even if all this effort fades into nothing I'm proud of myself for doing something that for me was extremely difficult. I crossed personal barriers, fears and terrors to do it and I'm proud because of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I personally feel like a winner now and I'm able to actually change my life and make things better. I feel like making things really better. So...there you go, I'm happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Either than that, not much going on for today either than finishing the cleaning at my room [what a mess it still is] and doing a portuguese homework about Fernando Pessoa. Not really that much into it but still giving a try. Either way I think I'm still leaving it to be done later tonight and tidy my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I'm writting I'm still thinking about a lot of subjects, one of them is the possibility to do an interrail this year. However, a problem remains...where am I going to find money to do it?! I NEED MONEY NOWWWWWWWW!!! Not really getting how I'm supposed to find the money, still...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now [as I've said before I &lt;u&gt;really&lt;/u&gt; write all things that pop out in this restless little mind of mine] I'm &lt;s&gt;thinking&lt;/s&gt;...wondering just how exactly do I seem to other around me? Specially when talking to them at first sight. The truth is that I can have really different ideas from what I'm supposed to think or do. Do I shock and repulse people with that and my speedy over-talking?! Do I scare people with my crazy ideas?! I'm really questioning that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We don't really know how we seem to others even if they try to explains us over and over. We never know. However, I'd like to be able to have a general idea of what others thought of our first encounter. So just come up and &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;leave a comment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; or anything, if you please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfBAzUqjRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/UFAcIDPRm3s/s1600-h/23291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383984099065761042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfBAzUqjRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/UFAcIDPRm3s/s400/23291.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/275570279320602380-6196114514091871476?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6196114514091871476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-did-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6196114514091871476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6196114514091871476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-did-it.html' title='I did it'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfBAzUqjRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/UFAcIDPRm3s/s72-c/23291.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-5557810800809587235</id><published>2009-09-20T22:02:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:58:29.383+01:00</updated><title type='text'>General thoughts [parte 5]</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feeling...absolutely....amazingly...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;...normal...! Don't you just love normal?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 218px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383668289141676130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrahyPrTGGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Uu2gfvq7jd0/s320/happyfeet.gif" /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;No Emmy's for me.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nop. Not gonna happen. No Emmy's for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas porque carga de água [&lt;s&gt;também nunca percebi esta expressão&lt;/s&gt;] é que temos de ter aulas no dia a seguir à noite dos Emmy's?! Porquê?! Está tudo maluco?! Devia era ser feriado para podermos ver os Emmy's a noite anterior! Já alguma vez se viu isto?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Enfim, tristeza...true fact. Vou morrer de antecipação esta noite e não conseguir dormir nada...mas tuuuudo bem. Amanhã vai ser um dia excelente, vai. -.-'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tinha de arrumar o quarto...interessante&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já arrumei metade, o que não adiantou muito mas fez alguma diferença. Espero terminar agora por volta das 11 da noite [&lt;s&gt; yeah...right&lt;/s&gt;] mas não acredito que tenha sucesso...&lt;/p&gt;Quem me manda a mim ser tão desorganizada?! Hoje pesquisei na wikipédia o signo "Sagitário", na esperança de encontrar um motivo válido para a minha quase natural desorganização. Heis o que encontrei [entre outras coisas]:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Características positivas:&lt;/strong&gt; expansivo, sincero,optimista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Características negativas:&lt;/strong&gt; exagerado, descuidado, irresponsável.&lt;/p&gt;Será que "descuidado" poderá querer dizer desorganizado?! Não me parece... Enquanto tento arranjar um bom motivo para a minha desorganização natural, invento maneiras de ser mais organizada. A sério...isto é &lt;u&gt;realmente&lt;/u&gt; um problema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;António Feio&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ontem vi uma entrevista do António Feio no "Só Visto". Adorei a entrevista e fiquei a admirar ainda mais este actor e comediante. Um verdadeiro Homem [&lt;s&gt;com H grande&lt;/s&gt;] e um grande talento, mais que tudo. Algo que sempre achei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ele referiu várias coisas importantes com as quais concordo durante a entrevista. Vou explorá-las nos próximos random posts. Sempre metendo uma piada com um timing absolutamente perfeito, é talentos destes que me fazem sentir orgulhosa por ser portuguesa. Sem querer correr o risco de parecer bastante saloia e cheia de cliches [coisa que já pareço neste parágrafo] vou falar nisto mais à frente.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Random fact of the day:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;De novo a viciar em entrevistas dadas pelo Dave Matthews: &lt;a href="http://video.my-artist.net/services/player/bcpid34940221001?bctid=31784115001"&gt;http://video.my-artist.net/services/player/bcpid34940221001?bctid=31784115001&lt;/a&gt; . &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh well...There's no cure and I like it this way (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O longo testamento de random thoughts&lt;strong&gt; &lt;u&gt;c'est finite&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!!&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-5557810800809587235?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5557810800809587235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-5.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/5557810800809587235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/5557810800809587235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-5.html' title='General thoughts [parte 5]'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrahyPrTGGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Uu2gfvq7jd0/s72-c/happyfeet.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-5252009201194670581</id><published>2009-09-20T21:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T22:02:13.045+01:00</updated><title type='text'>General thoughts [parte 4]</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feeling sarcastic, mean [and LOVING it]!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraW2WiA8dI/AAAAAAAAAE0/VGtKOngnijM/s1600-h/20060912120223-mr-burns.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383656265073357266" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraW2WiA8dI/AAAAAAAAAE0/VGtKOngnijM/s320/20060912120223-mr-burns.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;I don't like 131397&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;codes13123&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sinceramente...para quê tantos códigos diferentes quando eu simplesmente quero rasurar, sublinhar ou pôr em negrito ou em itálico [&lt;s&gt;ainda estou para perceber porque carga de água se diz 'pôr em itálico'&lt;/u&gt;]&lt;/s&gt; alguma parte de uma frase importantíssima ou simplesmente desnecessária num texto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tal como agora...tive de pôr mais um código para poder enfatizar o facto de que aquilo que está escrito entre os parêntesis colocados é simplesmente inútil. Feito para tentar provocar um riso ou só uma engraçada cara de parvo desse leitor totó e inútil que por aí se encontra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que acontece é que num dos posts anteriores pus os códigos errados. E o que é que aconteceu?! Capuff! O post perde a piada toda! Mas que raio?!?!?!?! Para que é que preciso de tecnologias que não tornam a minha vida ainda mais simples ou plástica mas simplesmente mais aborrecida, trabalhosa e natural?! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Para isso vou jogar dominó para a rua!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peço desculpa mas não é ser hoje que o post será corrigido mas noutro dia. O que devia era contratar alguém [&lt;s&gt;com o dinheiro que irei ganhar no euromilhões&lt;/s&gt;] para me corrigir aquilo tudo. Uma questão, contudo, perdura....Quem me manda a mim fazer textos gigantes?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não gosto de rever o que escrevo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;True Fact. Quer seja na escola, quer seja no meu blog. Não gosto e não o faço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sim, sim...é um erro e um perigo deixar todas as minhas ideias palermas ali, integrais e nuas, no meio de uma folha branca ou de um blog vazio. Porém eu simplesmente gosto de tratar mal as minhas estúpidas ideias simples e metê-las por ali sem qualquer tipo de embelezamento literário. &lt;u&gt;Isso não é um tanto ou quanto panisgas?!&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não que tenha algo contra os panisgas, acreditem. Só tenho problemas com pessoas demasiado sentimentais, quer sejam as bolinhas verdes e vermelhas e gostem de árvores ou não.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por isso, se encontrarem por aí erros de pura e simples distracção gramatical, &lt;strong&gt;ignorem&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;À medida que vou escrevendo vou ficando cansada. Quero desesperadamente escrever mas fico cansada [&lt;s&gt;oh, sim... não sabes é escrever, sua analfabeta! &lt;/s&gt;] e não consigo pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aliás, é o meu problema com diários de papel...eu quero escrever [porque eu sou daquelas pessoas que escreve exactamente o que lhe passa pela cabeça naquele preciso momento- &lt;u&gt;é por isso é que nunca me calo&lt;/u&gt;] mas às tantas estou quase sem mão com as dores que tenho. Como não sou masoquista tenho um blog e posto quando me apetece, escrevo o que quero e não releio, &lt;strong&gt;NADA&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso é provável que tenha escrito várias calúnias gramaticais por aí. Cometido vários atentados... Peço desculpa aos pais da literatura portuguesa, inglesa, russa, japonesa...e de mais algumas línguas que para aqui estejam.                                                                                                   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[continuação na parte 5]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/s&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/275570279320602380-5252009201194670581?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/5252009201194670581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/5252009201194670581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/5252009201194670581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-4.html' title='General thoughts [parte 4]'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraW2WiA8dI/AAAAAAAAAE0/VGtKOngnijM/s72-c/20060912120223-mr-burns.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-3896280319847452345</id><published>2009-09-20T20:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T21:03:40.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>General Thoughts [parte 3]</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feeling Creative!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraJ1y-D_XI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Z2TrXPjm_Mg/s1600-h/14122005_plug_original.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 288px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383641961876159858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraJ1y-D_XI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Z2TrXPjm_Mg/s320/14122005_plug_original.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Diferente é ...&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...algo ou extraordinariamente genial ou absolutamente psicótico ou de simples...ahh...fraca qualidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diferente é, na maior parte das vezes, bom e produtivo embora ligeiramente psicótico e errado. Eu gosto de diferente, adoro criatividade, novo. [&lt;s&gt;tenho de admitir que tenho pessoalmente uma grande pancada por pessoas quase a roçar na insanidade mental sem, contudo, a atingirem...&lt;/s&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não necessariamente criar algo que choque só por chocar [&lt;u&gt;pois a isso se chama pura estupidez e inutilidade de mente&lt;/u&gt;] mas algo que choque e faça algum tipo de sentido, mude mentalidades, mude opiniões, revolucione qualquer área.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;[&lt;u&gt;nota extremamente desnecessária&lt;/u&gt;: isto dos gritos da Halle Berry no filme Gothika é deveras irritante. Até me cortou o pensamento...]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser diferente é bom. A diversidade de pensamente é uma coisa que tem de ser estimada, preservada e cuidada. Hoje em dia temos a globalização do mundo à nossa frente e nem conseguimos pensar de modo diferente. A verdade é que temos de pensar por nós, não pelos outros. Isso significa pensar de forma própria, não quer dizer que seja a forma contrária ao que este ou aquele pensa.&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente arranjar uma maneira elegante de dar um grande "slap in the face" sem fazer muita algazarra e de modo a mexer com qualquer coisa sem a destruir por completo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mudar alguma coisa...sem forçar essa mudança. Viver a vida sendo nós próprios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Precisa-se de alguém &lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;original, ainda que mentalmente são mas criativo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt; nesta sociedade!! Vão tocar sininhos, sejam malucos. [&lt;s&gt;desde que não fiquem completamente "pirulas"&lt;/s&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O segredo não está em chocar, está em pensar, viver a vida e ser-se quem é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui está um post deveras interessante e engraçado que nos faz até pensar em certos indivíduos com parvoíce e poeira nas suas mentes. Critica-os suavemente e de forma bastante engraçada: &lt;a href="http://alveite.wordpress.com/2007/03/05/41/"&gt;http://alveite.wordpress.com/2007/03/05/41/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Pura estupidez e ignorância humana&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui está um assunto sobre o qual maior parte das pessoas divaguam e se questionam.&lt;br /&gt;Há tantas pessoas ignorantes no mundo que por vezes até penso não ser verdade. Sim, esses animais existem. Esses animais que simplemente se deviam atirar de uma ponte. Não são aqueles que não podem aprender, que não conseguem porque tem algum problema mental, que ainda não tiveram tempo de aprender o que lhes falta, que admitem que talvez possam ser um pouco menos inteligentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São aqueles que não se interessam por saber e acham que, por exemplo, a Europa é um país e que o Sol gira à volta da Terra. Pessoas que ainda por cima pensam-se inteligentes. Numa palavra pessoas simplesmente ignorantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porém, às vezes, até é engraçado encontrar uma ou outra para nos rirmos na tv ou isso. Não estou a tentar insultar ninguém até porque se estivesse provavelmente estava a consegui-lo. Apenas dei exemplos, há muitos outros que também poderia dar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só tenho uma coisa a dizer: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não há ser tão inteligente e, ao mesmo tempo, tão estúpido como o ser humano.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[continuação na parte 4]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-3896280319847452345?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3896280319847452345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/3896280319847452345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/3896280319847452345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-3.html' title='General Thoughts [parte 3]'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SraJ1y-D_XI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Z2TrXPjm_Mg/s72-c/14122005_plug_original.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-1561706691607213755</id><published>2009-09-20T19:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T20:06:56.511+01:00</updated><title type='text'>General thoughts [parte 2]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feeling fearless!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZ8sWDVncI/AAAAAAAAADU/tQb070C_KVE/s1600-h/rocky_balboa_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZ890u_w5I/AAAAAAAAADc/m-DxXarejWw/s1600-h/rocky_balboa_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 282px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383627806137631634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZ890u_w5I/AAAAAAAAADc/m-DxXarejWw/s320/rocky_balboa_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;A Gripe A, não é uma bomba assim tão grande e terrível!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se está(s) a ler isto e ficou (ficaste) escandalizado, acabou(acabaste) de pensar "NÃO É?! ESTÁ (S) A BRINCAR COMIGO?!!!!" e considerou (consideraste) escrever um comentário neste post a mandar-me ir para um sítio que me é absolutamente desconhecido....&lt;strong&gt;CALMA!!!!&lt;/strong&gt; Se não, então...epá...ainda bem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neste Verão fui a Londres. Antes de ir, os especialistas e as notícias portuguesas estavam praticamente a gritar ao ouvido dos telespectadores para não irem para países de grande perigo de infecção, incluindo Inglaterra. Decidimos arriscar porque era uma oportunidade única na vida e era um grande sonho para todos nós. &lt;s&gt;[&lt;u&gt;tradução&lt;/u&gt;: mandámos as notícias portuguesas pastar ervinhas para Inglaterra]&lt;/s&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Devo admitir que estava com medo de apanhar Gripe A, todos pareciam dizer que nos ia matar, morder ou se calhar torturar. Como não tenho uma mente lá muito masoquista estava com medo. Parecíamos uns maníacos das limpezas com imensos panos e sprays anti-germes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O curioso é que cheguei ao "grande centro da epidemia" e não ouvi nem uma única coisa sobre o assunto. Apenas se viam anúncios no metro sobre o assunto. Anúncios que nos davam informação realmente significante sobre o assunto, que nos ajudavam a prevenir em vez de ter medo de uma chamada de "epidemia" que não passa de uma gripezinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei se não acaba por ser mais suave do que uma gripe normal. Basta seguir as medidas, fazer as coisas bem, ficar uma semana isolado com tamiflu em cima e...ta-dah, estamos curados!! Com uma gripe normal podemos ficar até mais do que uma semana na cama e ainda não estarmos curados. É claro que é mais perigoso para as pessoas com outras doenças, como asma, mas nisso também é a gripe normal ou outras doenças. Podemos morrer, claro, mas apenas se já tivermos mal anteriormente, tal como com outras doenças. Até agora nunca houve nenhum caso de alguém que morresse só de gripe A, que eu saiba. Mas...e se houvesse?! Também não morremos com outras doenças?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então porque é que nos infiltram com cápsulas de pensamentos alienígenas para nos convencer que é algo realmente desvastador, pandemónico e aterrorizante?! Aí está! Os media portugueses....Deixo ao vosso critério porque carga de água eles querem que nós pensemos o mesmo porque nem em Roma, nem em Londres ouvi [ou pouco ouvi] falar dessa horrível estirpe!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estamos em Portugal e já Almada Negreiros dizia no seu Manifesto Anti-Dantas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Portugal que com todos estes senhores conseguiu a classificação do país mas atrasado da Europa e de todo o Mundo! O país mais selvagem de todas as Áfricas! O exílio dos degredados e dos indiferentes! A África reclusa dos europeus! O entulho das desvantagens e dos sobejos! Portugal inteiro há-de abrir os olhos um dia - se é que a sua cegueira não é incurável e então gritará comigo, a meu lado, a necessidade que Portugal tem de ser qualquer coisa de asseado! "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Almada Negreiros&lt;/strong&gt; in &lt;u&gt;"Manifesto Anti-Dantas"&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será que todos nós voltamos a tornar-nos em pequenos e irritantes Dantas?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deixo, de novo, a resposta ao vosso próprio critério.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Analisei o Manifesto Anti-Dantas na minha última aula de português e gostei principalmente porque é uma obra com um espírito criativo de "slap in the face and send you to hell", bastante original. Manda o lixo e cegueira da sociedade à vida de uma maneira um tanto ou quanto bruta, original e &lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;diferente&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[continuação na parte 3]&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/275570279320602380-1561706691607213755?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/1561706691607213755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/1561706691607213755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/1561706691607213755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-2.html' title='General thoughts [parte 2]'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZ890u_w5I/AAAAAAAAADc/m-DxXarejWw/s72-c/rocky_balboa_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-4924266433435015133</id><published>2009-09-19T01:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:12:37.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>General thoughts [parte 1]</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Feeling Extreme&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s1600-h/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s1600-h/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383610607967600962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s320/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje apetece-me escrever um post. Sobre nada de específico. Apetece-me escrever um post em português. Sim, português....não vou escrever em inglês. Cheguei à conclusão que estou a necessitar desesperadamente de aulas de inglês visto estar a escrever mal &lt;s&gt;[tanto uma língua como a outra&lt;/s&gt;]. Preciso de uma "esfregadela" de &lt;u&gt;inglês gramaticalmente aceite&lt;/u&gt;. Até lá desenrasco o meu mau português.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s1600-h/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s1600-h/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Don'-t *cof* li-ke *cof* coff-ing&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Já alguma vez referi que odeio tossir?! Okay, eu sei que ninguém gosta e que é uma coisa extremamente desagradável e tudo mais....mas EU odeio. Até pode não fazer muita diferença nem dor de cabeça após terem passado 15 minutos a tossir constantemente mas após 48 horas seguidas a tossir que nem um cão que leva paulada ao fim da noite é &lt;strong&gt;TERRÍVEL&lt;/strong&gt;! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Catarina toma o antitússico [sim, existem xaropes denominados de 'anti-tússicos' que servem para parar de tossir...&lt;s&gt;quem diria, uh?!&lt;/s&gt;], a Catarina toma o comprimido para as dores de garganta, a Catarina até toma benuron...mas a Catarina continua a tossir!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É que não é só a tosse, é o que vem com a tosse. Uma pessoa tosse umas quantas vezes e até que está bem. Após 1 hora seguida de tosse, vêm as dores de cabeça de estar a tossir tanto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agora, a parte engraçada: Quase toda a gente pensa que é gripe A. Arranjo logo lugar no comboio, bastar tossir um pouco e o pessoal passa-se. O que quase NINGUÉM entende é que não é só tosse que é a gripe A. Sinceramente...isto da pressão dos media sobre a gripe A é ridículo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[continuação na parte 2]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-4924266433435015133?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4924266433435015133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/4924266433435015133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/4924266433435015133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/general-thoughts-parte-1.html' title='General thoughts [parte 1]'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrZtUwjvAUI/AAAAAAAAADE/lCnfCRKTNDU/s72-c/Silhouette%2520of%2520happy%2520woman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-7717438869484470438</id><published>2009-09-15T20:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T22:37:15.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It does not move me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It does not get me going at all. (...) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It does not shift me it's not the kind of thing that I like (...) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It does not move me it's not the kind of thing that I like (...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She does not listen she's too wrapped up with all of her things (...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This does not get to me 'cos she's not the kind of girl that I like (...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;She does not move me she's not the kind of girl that I like (...)&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kaiser Chiefs&lt;/strong&gt; - "Na Na Na Na Naa" , Employment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes it seems as if life is laughing at me and actually enjoying itself. I love irony in life but generally when it's directed to someone else that I don't like. Not exactly when it's directed to me or some of those [u]&lt;em&gt;great exceptions[/u]&lt;/em&gt; [s][please check the previous post with this title to understand this quotation][/s]. That fucker is really grinning in pure wicked pleasure. It's quite an ironic creature, life...It's a real bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*reviews what she's just written* What am I talking about?! Seriously, I'm the one who's not able to say 'no' to people and it's life that's the bitch and I'm the victim. You see, that's the annoying thing about not believing in any kind of higher power. As a matter of fact I don't even believe in magic wands, santa claus or any other things I have never seen before with my own eyes. Personally, I think I'm much more of a believer in Santa Claus since I've seen some replicas of him somewhere in malls around the area than I'm a believer in God or Jesus. Okay...maybe I'm wrong. After all Mel Gibson did do a role or two as Jesus and I've seen a few replicas and representations of Jesus and God... Still, I'm totally drifting from the main subject. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The annoying thing about not believing in any higher power is that we're always guilty of our own actions. If we, the atheists, make out with our friend's girlfriend/boyfriend we can't go on saying that's the way God wanted it. Afterwards we also can't go immediately to church and keep praying and praying 'till all our sins go away and we're ready to go to heaven. I guess, at the end, we'll all end up in hell, if it exists, afterall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Attention, though! I'm not saying God doesn't exist at all. He might but...He also might not exist. So, I rather not bet in any of the versions. Have I seen Him?! No. Then, I won't believe Him untill I've seen Him. Full stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, it's kind of annoying the fact that we're guilty and responsible for our actions and that we'll probably end up in hell if it really exists. So... it ends up I'm the fool who can't say "no" when she means "no" in my love life. Or the fool who can't talk with the person she really loves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, that's right. If you said, right now, that you're in love with me I wouldn't be able to say "Sorry, I don't like you that way". On the other hand, if I loved you I'd never be able to speak to you or talk to you about it. One of my list of flaws. Still trying to change it but I haven't been successful so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm really weak when it comes to that subject. To saying no in love cases. I simply can't because I can't stop thinking "That person's going to stay so sad..." and plus I think wrongly that it's better to have someone than anyone. I know, reasonably, that I'm fooling also the other person but I'm just not brave enough to say no. In this past summer I've had over 4 proposals [I usually get none] and I was totally fraked [Yes, nessa, I did use fraked]. I mean what the hell was I going to say to them?! I said half no half yes which is worse than anything. Seriously, someone help me get my feelings out and say no! I just wanna say no!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the other hand, I've got this person whom I seriously am nearly pathetic about. I've had so many chances to speak to her I've stopped counting and still I can't say a word when I'm around her. Not a word coming out! I just start shaking like a I've got hypothermia or something! And that person's seen it. I know she has. I mean, of course she has, it is quite obvious. And that that person moves and it's like WOW...and, then again, I'm fraked. I should have already started a conversation because I've already started one with her via internet. Now...it's time for real time conversation. How about that?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noooo. Of course not. In one of the situations we both looked at each others' eyes for about 30 seconds saying nothing at all. None of us started a conversation. How ridiculous is that?! Maybe that person hasn't seen who I am already. Who knows?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the following day I'm nearly sure she was following me with that person's eyes all the way 'till I entered my school's pavillion. But how can I be sure that was a way to say she was actually trying to speak to me?! Reasonably, she might just be looking at me because my bag is quite different from everybody else's....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm hoping to find out what the hell was that by starting a conversation while we're both on our way to school. I'll start up the conversation. Why not?! It's just a person. It's a normal person. I should be able to do it, right?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm hoping to find some courage by writing in my own blog, made and sponsored by myself and then I'll make it tomorrow, whether the conversation goes badly or not. I'll make it. I'll make it somehow. It seems as if I'm nearly asperger, seriously...What the hell! Why can't I?! This kind of sentimentalism s**** really kills me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway...Non of the other people move me at all but I still can't say no. I've got to do it like KT Tunstall:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I felt a little fear upon my back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He said "Don't look back, just keep on walking."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When the big black horse said, "Hey lady!" {When the big black horse said, "Look this way"}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Said, "Look this way, will you marry me?" {Said, "Hey, lady, will you marry me?"}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I said no, no, no, no-no-no&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I said no, no, you're not the one for me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No, no, no, no-no-no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I said no, no, you're not the one for me"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kt Tunstall&lt;/strong&gt; - "Black Horse and The Cherry Tree", Eye To The Telescope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really hate insecurity in me. I'm not being sincere to people and I hate not being sincere, HATE IT about me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;[u]Next step[/u]&lt;/span&gt;: Saying no to people I don't like. Starting conversations with people I like. Seems pretty simple but it isn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Starting tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Au revoir!!&lt;/span&gt; (: (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrKoNjfsdPI/AAAAAAAAAC0/QvWJwpEPkLo/s1600-h/simple+audrey.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrKpTUwcPGI/AAAAAAAAAC8/s4f4_stPxUg/s1600-h/simple+audrey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 332px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382550654115658850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrKpTUwcPGI/AAAAAAAAAC8/s4f4_stPxUg/s400/simple+audrey.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[Audrey Hepburn: one of the pictures in the world that makes me peaceful. Simply Audrey (: (: ]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrKl90G4bPI/AAAAAAAAACs/lTe3fFv2YJo/s1600-h/simple+audrey.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/275570279320602380-7717438869484470438?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7717438869484470438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/it-does-not-move-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7717438869484470438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7717438869484470438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/it-does-not-move-me.html' title='It does not move me'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrKpTUwcPGI/AAAAAAAAAC8/s4f4_stPxUg/s72-c/simple+audrey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-6164729042820665062</id><published>2009-09-12T03:34:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T04:10:13.294+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - parte II -</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsQj_-nnwI/AAAAAAAAACc/FGCfkHzvF-k/s1600-h/P01-07-09_15.40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380412390479732482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsQj_-nnwI/AAAAAAAAACc/FGCfkHzvF-k/s320/P01-07-09_15.40.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Saudade&lt;/u&gt;....Nostalgia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Este Verão fui a Roma &amp;amp; a Londres. Cidades diferentes nalgumas coisas, iguais noutras...lindíssimas à sua maneira. Nunca irei esquecer as coisas que numa e noutra foram vividas, as coisas que aprendi, as coisas que toquei, que vi. As pessoas com quem falei. &lt;s&gt;[eu falei com umas senhoras sobreviventes da Segunda Guerra Mundial, estive a menos de 1 metro do Papa, falei com uma senhora do Parlamento, vi o guitarrista dos Queen de perto - o cabelo dele é mesmo gigante, check-, entre tantas coisas]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fortaleci &lt;/strong&gt;amizades, criei umas e provavelmente destrui outras. Mas sabem que mais?! Não me arrependo de nada. Fiz o que achava melhor, preocupo-me com as pessoas que mais gosto e estou rodeada por elas. Quem não gosta escusa de ser amigo ou dirigir-me a palavra. Tornei-me mais directa, menos complexada...e ainda bem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fiquei contentíssima por ter fortalecido amizades e criado novas, conhecer novas pessoas. Fez-me bem esta mudança de ares neste Verão. Sinto que cresci e gosto muito deste sentimento. Não o troco por nada. [Apenas por um bilhete a Londres...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por isso sinto saudade e nostalgia por tudo o que se passou até agora desde o início do Verão mas valeu a pena, &lt;strong&gt;TUDO&lt;/strong&gt; valeu a pena! Agora tenho apenas medo de voltar para as aulas, sei que vai começar mal, sei que vai ser como o ano passado e para dizer a verdade não tenho mesmo paciência para aturar este ano. Nem quero. Tenho medo, sim...é verdade e não tenho vergonha de o dizer, porque teria?! Afinal o espírito de liberdade após ter visto tanta coisa parece que permanece. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsPZbqH-2I/AAAAAAAAACM/e5-q1-tLYro/s1600-h/P25-08-09_16.30%5B01%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380411109419776866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsPZbqH-2I/AAAAAAAAACM/e5-q1-tLYro/s400/P25-08-09_16.30%5B01%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[foto 1 - Basílica de S. Pietro, Cidade do Vaticano, Itália 2009; foto 2 - Vista para Westminster a partir do London Eye, Londres, 2009]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See y'a!! (:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/275570279320602380-6164729042820665062?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6164729042820665062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-parte-ii.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6164729042820665062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6164729042820665062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-parte-ii.html' title='Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - parte II -'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsQj_-nnwI/AAAAAAAAACc/FGCfkHzvF-k/s72-c/P01-07-09_15.40.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-4506178641015322622</id><published>2009-09-12T02:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T04:40:36.372+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - parte I -</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Voilà!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; O primeiro post português e começo logo com uma palavra francesa. Mas quando me apetece, apetece-me. Visto que este é o meu blog, faço dele o que quiser e ponto final parágrafo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há pouco tempo estive a descarregar as fotos de Londres do meu telemóvel para o computador. Sim, é verdade fui a Londres, Inglaterra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contudo, decidi não postar nada sobre Londres porque: 1) Ia demorar muito, muito, muito tempo a escrever; 2) Ia ficar, consequentemente, bastante extenso; 3) Nunca arranjaria palavras para descrever algo de tão maravilhoso que se passou naquela semana final de Agosto; 4) Contei a quem me interessava contar e a quem merece ser contado; 5) Quem contar sabe quem é, quem não sabe paciência; 6) Lá aprendi a manter mais a minha privacidade e há memórias que ficam só nossas, lugares que só por nós foram tocados naquele segundo, naquele momento da história. Por isso, as memórias de Londres estão aqui, na minha cabeça, e assim ficarão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por segundos esbocei um sorriso e relembrei-me de uma frase de um dos meus filmes de animação favorito, "O Príncipe do Egipto". Não que seja religiosa mas há uma espécie de ideia no filme que me agrada imenso. Basicamente, é referido que alguém pode muito bem ter o poder de nos tirar tudo, fazer o que quiser das nossas vidas mas nunca nos pode tirar o que nos vai na cabeça. Nunca ninguém nos pode tirar as nossas memórias, pensamentos e ideias. No filme falava-se em fé. Contudo, visto que não acredito nem deixo de acreditar na presença de Deus porque nunca o vi. Muitos crentes podem chamar-me o que quiserem mas sou uma pessoa que acredita naquilo que vê, que estuda, analisa para ter uma certeza lógica das coisas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isto tudo para dizer que essa ideia de ninguém nos poder tirar as ideias, pensamentos, memórias [pelo menos até agora ninguém &lt;u&gt;oficialmente&lt;/u&gt; o fez] dá-me sempre uma razão para ficar mais calma, tranquila e feliz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A verdade é que muito pode acontecer de um dia para o outro. Poder ter esse poder é importante. Uma coisa que nunca tinha entendido realmente mas quando fui a Londres entendi, nem sei bem como.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outro facto curioso é que naquela curta semana em que lá estive senti-me muito mais inglesa que alguma vez me senti portuguesa por terras lusas. Senti que finalmente estava em casa. Agora, pergunto-me...como raio é isto possível?! Com consegue uma semana facilmente superar quase 17 anos de uma vida?! E não digo isto por dizer...também estive em Roma e não foi o mesmo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quase [não estou para fazer as contas exactas] 17 anos de uma vida a sentir que não pertencia e afinal talvez não. Não estou a dizer que tudo lá seja magnífico mas sinto-me de certeza mais em casa do que na minha própria casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por outro lado, o facto de conseguir comunicar também ajudou. Mas o incrível é que utilizar sotaque americano lá era quase impossível...felizmente consegui apanhar o sotaque britânico facilmente. E quando estava lá...mas do que tudo, senti-me livre! Livre dos olhares da sociedade, livre dos comentários mesquinhos, livre das pessoas chatas, livre de ignorantes!! Finalmente livre como nunca me tinha sentido!!! &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TOP&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;OF THE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WORLD&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deu-me uma vontade louca de correr pelo Hyde Park, andar de bicicleta, meter conversa, apanhar um comboio no meio do nada. Viver lá para aproveitar estas coisinhas básicas. Para viver a vida sem ter pessoas a apontar dedo por nos vestirmos diferente, por pensarmos diferente, por gostarmos de gostos diferentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lá nunca senti a medo de histeria quando via alguma coisa que gostasse, de sorrir quando me apetecia, de me vestir mal, de dizer o que penso. Ninguém olhava para o lado ou dizia coisas como "Importa-se de ser menos histéria sff?!" ou "Parece que é parva!!". Porque havia leis claro para não incomodar os outros e nunca, NUNCA senti que as tivesse que quebrar. Sempre me senti em casa. Os londrinos, pessoas mesmo educadas mas directas e sarcásticas, exactamente como eu gosto. Nunca lhes escapava um "Thank you" ou "Excuse me" ou "I'm so sorry" ou "Are you all right, love?!". Gostei particularmente de ouvir a última. xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui parece que estou numa prisão a querer sair, gritar...nunca consigo sair. Finalmente vi o mundo e posso ser &lt;b&gt;livre&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O pior foi voltar. Sentir que me tinham aprisionado de novo. Tenho de voltar a fazer o que todos fazem. Voltar a ficar aprisionada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ssim, revendo as fotografias e as memórias lembrei-me do quão bom foi. Parece que me deixaram cair de novo no fundo e não há maneira de subir. Haverá, haverá... só assim é que me consigo acalmar para viver cada dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsG67G5uxI/AAAAAAAAABc/1dhErTwk_Ac/s1600-h/P24-08-09_17.40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380401789193009938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsG67G5uxI/AAAAAAAAABc/1dhErTwk_Ac/s320/P24-08-09_17.40.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[photo taken by me&lt;s&gt;, myself &amp;amp; I&lt;/s&gt; - London, 2009]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;[To be continued...]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nota:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; A continuação deste post encontra-se em baixo em "Saudade &amp;amp; Nostalgia - anexo musical-"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-4506178641015322622?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/4506178641015322622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-parte-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/4506178641015322622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/4506178641015322622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-parte-i.html' title='Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - parte I -'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsG67G5uxI/AAAAAAAAABc/1dhErTwk_Ac/s72-c/P24-08-09_17.40.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-9158527219196568995</id><published>2009-09-04T01:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T04:41:11.807+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - anexo musical-</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;e modo a completar o post: &lt;u&gt;"Saudade &amp;amp; Nostalgia -parte I-"&lt;/u&gt; aqui fica:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I say my hell is the closet &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm stuck inside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't see the light&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And my Heaven is a nice house in the sky&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Got central heating and I'm alright&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't see the light&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Keep it locked up inside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't talk about it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Talk about the weather&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't see the light&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Open up my head and let me out, little baby&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause here we have been standing for a long, long time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[...]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes I find it's better to be somebody else&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see you young and soft, oh little baby&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Little feet, little hands, little feet, little baby&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One year of cryin' and the words creep up inside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Creep into your mind, yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So much to say&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So much to say..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause here we have been standing for a long, long time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Treading trodden trails for a long, long time"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dave Matthews Band&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;u&gt;"So Much To Say"&lt;/u&gt;, Crash.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just want to break free...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've got to break free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I want to break free&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I want, I want, I want, I want to break free!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Queen&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;u&gt;"I Want To Break Free"&lt;/u&gt;, The Works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsTboRQ_6I/AAAAAAAAACk/MiITSaLQxJI/s1600-h/freddie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380415545211420578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 281px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsTboRQ_6I/AAAAAAAAACk/MiITSaLQxJI/s400/freddie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Nota:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; A continuação deste post encontra-se em cima em "Saudade &amp;amp; Nostalgia - parte II-" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-9158527219196568995?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/9158527219196568995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-anexo-musical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/9158527219196568995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/9158527219196568995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/09/saudade-nostalgia-anexo-musical.html' title='Saudade &amp; Nostalgia - anexo musical-'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SqsTboRQ_6I/AAAAAAAAACk/MiITSaLQxJI/s72-c/freddie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-3131743919746026235</id><published>2009-08-19T00:05:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T18:59:27.903Z</updated><title type='text'>Forget about the reasons...</title><content type='html'>...and the treasons we are seeking. Forget about the notion that our emotions can be swept away. Forget about being guilty, we are innocent instead. For soon we will all find our lives swept away. - Dave Matthews Band "Seek up"-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sos5B-uV1WI/AAAAAAAAAA0/8NSZJHRQGEQ/s1600-h/carpe_diem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 215px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371449686749468002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sos5B-uV1WI/AAAAAAAAAA0/8NSZJHRQGEQ/s320/carpe_diem.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;CARPE DIEM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, that sums &lt;u&gt;it&lt;/u&gt; up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes things get a bit harder to handle and this expression harder to follow. Today was one of those days. It had it's bad and good moments but somehow I feel like there's something left, something that's yet to be enjoyed. It must be of today, who knows?! Still trying to live up to the expression though, always living life at it's full...but sometimes those depressing feelings go on and take over you, ofuscating all other sweet and good feelings. It's nothing we can prevent or predict, it simply comes up and creates this sort of blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yesterday&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Everyday things change, basically they stay the same"&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dave Matthews Band&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;strong&gt;Seek up&lt;/strong&gt;"-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke up with a friend bursting into tears on the cellaphone as I was trying to cancel plans since I had only slept for 3 hours. Not a great way to start up a day but I thought it'd be wise to help her out the best I could to get over her sadness. I texted her &lt;s&gt;(while I was still sleepy)&lt;/s&gt; and kept texting her untill I was completely awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She texted me some words &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(of someone who's with a depression) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;which really reminded me of my prior boyfriend, or supposed boyfriend. I cannot say it didn't affect me, because it did. It wasn't the whole "oh, he's gone" but the negative part of him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;God &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[if he ACTUALLY existed]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would know how I loved him and...I don't even know why. I've had my only fight with V about him and I don't even know how it got that way, how I protected him or the idea of him so much and didn't really know why I loved him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;No real reason either than chemistry, I think. There was something about his voice, the words he said, how sweetly he called me. There was something about it and his fragility and insecurity that made me attracted, without any real reason. I always loved that fragil, insecure side of people...either women or men and it's not racional. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It's that and perfumes...but even then, there has to be chemistry for me to really fall in love. And...this whole love history just really annoys me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love's ridiculous and illusional but it makes us feel good, which sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always trend to have impossible loves. It's curious, right?! Story of my life...which sometimes never seems to change. Just tired of it all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[&lt;u&gt;Comment after re-reading the above&lt;/u&gt;: What's wrong with me?! &lt;b&gt;WTF?!&lt;/b&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Today&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Come and open up your folding chair next to me. My feet are buried in the sand and there's a breeze. There's a shadow you can't see my eyes. And the sea is just a wetter version of the skies."&lt;/em&gt; - &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Regina Spektor&lt;/span&gt; &lt;b&gt;"Folding Chair"&lt;/b&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't damage yourself, fall into emotional traps or get yourself hurt over other's words, please do so for myself. Everyone's hurtful sometimes, everyone gets hurt sometimes, everyone gets pulled into a mess of emotions sometimes, everyone gets sucked into a discussion and anger vortex sometimes. But only some, at times, strengthen after going through some of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you get quiet while you're being hurt you'll just get more into that vortex. Reply, answer...no one can hurt you. You'll eventually feel bad but you can't simply stuck it in yourself and keep it downstairs because that's going to show them advantage and disadvantage to us. So why give them pleasure?! Reply, not too rude, not too soft....just the right manner so they can understand that you're not up to being kid around. You got to feel good about yourself...comfortable with being in your own skin. If not then you're not actually enjoying life, living up to the expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just do me a favour...please be one of those who get strengthen. We gotta overcome, get up in your feet and enjoy life as it is. Or else it's just a useless passage through this world because, at the very end we're just dust n' bones lying underground and feeding warms. So why not enjoy?! And, when I say enjoy, I don't mean you should get around and go on making love with everyone that comes around, that's not enjoying...that's getting to feel real emotional emptiness. It's fun at the moment but not so fun or enjoyable as it could be with someone you actually love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CARPE DIEM doesn't mean you haven't got to think about future implications because, very likely, they'll come up. But there should be &lt;strong&gt;pure&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BALANCE&lt;/span&gt; between them. Balance is the key. Live for today but consider tomorrow's implications too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mess up your life ignoring the possible future you might get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Do what I say and not what I do"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I'm not trying to give you lecture, but I'm better at advicing than at following my own advice. I'm not sure how I'm feeling today...I guess confused, perhaps tomorrow I'll get some of my feelings cleared. Today was great but I have just been thinking a lot. So there are many emotions/opinions towards many subjects that get me confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could probably go and on about a whole number of subjects. Simply because I'm feeling insecure, confused and ashamed...of many things. I really must be stupid just being who I am. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ridiculous &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;it's what pop's out of my head when I do a little retrospective over many of my actions over the day/year. Simply ridiculous, clowny, shameful... I don't deserve things. Simply don't. Can't be fooling me around, can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's a lot of subject for other posts to be written. This is the end by today and I'm still writting whatever I feel like writting. Not cohesive? Too many spelling mistakes? I don't care. It's mine and I'll do whatever I feel like doing with it. It's simply &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MINE&lt;/strong&gt;. I can be able not to talk about today or talk about something that has nothing to do with what I'm feeling right now but it's &lt;strong&gt;my choice&lt;/strong&gt;, only MY choice and that's what I love in it. (: So I say...enough for today and so it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Note&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[Scene taken from "Breakfast At Tiffany's" - &lt;u&gt;Audrey Hepburn&lt;/u&gt;- &lt;s&gt;my favourite movie&lt;/s&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;おやすみ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; !! &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[a.k.a. good night in japanese]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/So84IJgS_MI/AAAAAAAAABU/C0Zhnnf-kEQ/s1600-h/audrey_hepburn_gallery_21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372574593117781186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/So84IJgS_MI/AAAAAAAAABU/C0Zhnnf-kEQ/s320/audrey_hepburn_gallery_21.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-3131743919746026235?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/3131743919746026235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/forget-about-reasons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/3131743919746026235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/3131743919746026235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/forget-about-reasons.html' title='Forget about the reasons...'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/Sos5B-uV1WI/AAAAAAAAAA0/8NSZJHRQGEQ/s72-c/carpe_diem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-8868358185308111013</id><published>2009-08-16T19:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T21:40:41.251+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kit Kat Jam</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLg0xwf3GLs&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLg0xwf3GLs&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[Yep, this life version has lyrics unlike the one on the album 'Busted Stuff']&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, as I'm writing this sentence I ask myself: Have I ever written so much in a day?! The answer is obviously no. I know I need to let it all out and somehow feel an urge to write, write and write untill my fingers bleed or my head explodes. In english. I feel like writing in english, not in my mother language. Why?! I don't even have a clue...I feel so confortable writing in english, it feels like such a sweet escape, the ideas simply come flooding in from my head to my fingers and it's all in english.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the closest I've got to having a diary with no worries about getting tired and ending up with my fingers all fucked up before I end up writing what I desire to write. I like it this way and shall keep it this way. I shan't &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[sweetest contraction &lt;u&gt;ever&lt;/u&gt; *_*]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt; show it to the world. Only to a few of the closest friends, if so. I like it as it is, perfectly hidden and safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been hearing "Kit Kat Jam" over and over and it's pure love...&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pure fascination&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/u&gt; Though I enjoy listening to those sweet jams &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[that aren't exactly spontaneous &lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt;but are still sweet] &lt;/s&gt;on the BTCS's album after each track &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[and I do love them &lt;strong&gt;a lot&lt;/strong&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; they're so short it makes me feel like begging for more. I love jammings in all kind of music &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[except when it involves rap, hip-hop or really heavy metal]. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I think being able to make a good jamming truly shows the artist a certain group of musicians are. Each musician as a say, as a sentence to tell us and does it through music, absolutly brilliant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once my ballet teacher told me&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; that music is like a chat. It's about getting the sentence, each musical sentence has something to say, some new argument to bring to the conversation, whether it's between lovers, friends or simple monologues. Music is talking to us all by itself. The musician is trying to tell us something and we better listen. That's why I love jammings, it's not a chat that's already written but something that they want to say at the moment. Some people find live jammings completely boring because they simply want the singer to be singing the lyrics they've known. I like jammings, I think they really show the quality of the artist and the purity of music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have a lot to learn but i'm willing to learn more about &lt;strong&gt;good music&lt;/strong&gt; (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Auf Wiedersehen&lt;/u&gt; everybody!! &lt;strong&gt;;D &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[just one more Регина Спектор's photo...]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SohuTPnsJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/g15esXOAsDQ/s1600-h/Regina%2BSpektor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370663832528889058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SohuTPnsJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/g15esXOAsDQ/s320/Regina%2BSpektor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-8868358185308111013?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/8868358185308111013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/kit-kat-jam.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8868358185308111013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8868358185308111013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/kit-kat-jam.html' title='The Kit Kat Jam'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SohuTPnsJOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/g15esXOAsDQ/s72-c/Regina%2BSpektor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-7024358714908416507</id><published>2009-08-16T04:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T06:01:24.750+01:00</updated><title type='text'>There must be some kind of way out of here...</title><content type='html'>(said the joker to the thief) - &lt;strong&gt;All Along The Watchtower&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jimi Hendrix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370409509309327826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SoeG_rzDKdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4Zde4jTOwFU/s320/1148887451_77287e5b2a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Регина Спектор&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;s&gt;[a.k.a. Regina Spektor in russian]&lt;/s&gt; &lt;/span&gt;is &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;absolute&lt;/span&gt; &lt;u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;love&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my fandoms I cannot blame anyone for but I can surely blame my mother for making me love anything that's russian. Who told her to keep teaching little russian words to a 8 year-old daughter curious and hungry for learning foreign languages?! I grew up loving russia, and the result? Regina Spektor. She's got the personality, the originality, the russian roots...for God's sake! She's got a song sang in english and russian and it's title is in french!!! That's pure fandom for a girl who loves learning new languages and has a facinastion with Russia... That should be a crime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of it all, she just makes you love her, &lt;strong&gt;immediately. &lt;/strong&gt;Plus, she plays the piano...am I feeling that will to play it again?! Wait...oh...wait....ah...Yes I am! She makes me miss it and like it all over again.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;I mean...&lt;strong&gt;WOW&lt;/strong&gt;, this woman is &lt;u&gt;awesome&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, my search for the way out of this emotion confusion seems to be something between russian words, riding bikes, some alone time to simply think and Regina Spektor. So far it seems like a good mixture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes go on and on thinking how stupidily I've behaved or how foolish such words came out of my lips. I can simply conclude that I'm foolish. As simple and plain as that, I'm foolish. I know I "shouldn't" feel that way and that everybody gets something wrong sometimes but...doesn't really seem as it's only sometimes to me. Lack of self-esteem shit again...Kind of tired of it, to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's simply so much emotionally that I seem like &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hormone city&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;s&gt;[NOTE: Cassandra's quote about &lt;u&gt;Rose&lt;/u&gt;'s feelings towards &lt;u&gt;The Doctor&lt;/u&gt; &lt;3.&gt;&lt;u&gt;Extremely excited fangirl!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;]&lt;/s&gt;. I need a little break from these love emotions...it's begining to ruin everything around me. How?! How can I simply push it away?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, I'm done for today...Just one more Регина Спектор's picture. (a really known one but...&lt;s&gt;who fucking cares?!&lt;/s&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Хорошая ночь!! (;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;s&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[a.k.a. russian good night (: ]&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SoePjtxGysI/AAAAAAAAAAc/tJNq9S6U1MU/s1600-h/on-the-radio-by-regina-spektor-8363.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370418924406360770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SoePjtxGysI/AAAAAAAAAAc/tJNq9S6U1MU/s320/on-the-radio-by-regina-spektor-8363.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-7024358714908416507?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/7024358714908416507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/there-must-be-some-kind-of-way-out-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7024358714908416507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/7024358714908416507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/there-must-be-some-kind-of-way-out-of.html' title='There must be some kind of way out of here...'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SoeG_rzDKdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4Zde4jTOwFU/s72-c/1148887451_77287e5b2a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-2279493524207887504</id><published>2009-08-14T23:27:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T05:43:43.402+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a book, a good book</title><content type='html'>Do you know those days when you desperatly desire what you never imagined you'd ever want?! Well, I'm on one of those days. I'm so damn bored I would be willing to go to a rap concert and, seriously, I H.A.T.E. rap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime ago one of my portuguese teachers (there have been a few during these last 3 years) told me Fernando Pessoa had actually died of boredom. Now that I'm feeling bored enough to die of boredom I wonder if it's actually possible...Is it possible?! I'm not even living, to be sincere. I'm feeling a whole lot of emotions, good and bad, confusing. But they all seem to end up together as a complete grey blur fuzzy feeling. It's almost insane. I feel everything and nothing at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done exercise in years and I think I'm actually having a lot of energies accumulated inside. I think this is a way of trying to let it go somehow. I need to get on working out on something and, at the same time, occupying my brain for it to stop going through all those little, big problems in my life that cannot be fixed right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first one I think tomorrow morning (it is "tomorrow" morning already) I'm going to rent a bike and ride around the beach listening to DMB and Guns N' Roses to finally get some of this energy out. I mean, I have had physical exercise all my life, since I was a little child. I actually find it normal that suddently interrumpting the whole exercise routine makes me so unquiet, nervous and somehow troubled. I guess it also affects me pshycologically.&lt;br /&gt;I need to think of a long time thing for me, that actually suits me, my schedule and my spirit. I thought ballet was it and it is in a way...but I feel as if the people around it make it pshycologically hard to handle. There're also so full of dramas I just wanna make them wanna shoke. I don't think I can handle that for that much long...&lt;br /&gt;I also need knew experiences. But what?! I can go to the gynasium but only the gynasium would not fully fullfill me. What more?! I'm a drag at any sports that involves balls (or almost anything that does involve it) and I'm horrible with forming teams. I can't swim, I hate running (specially the part where I can actually twist my ankle &lt;strong&gt;again&lt;/strong&gt;). However...I need to get active. I need to find &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; sport, &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; activity. I need to let all this energy out.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to think about it any other day...but the truth is I'm actually worried about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for occupying my head I need to have my cat's little play house done. Maybe I shall do so. My mother decided to &lt;s&gt;finally&lt;/s&gt; install the new printer and left a few little boxes I could work with to build her up &lt;s&gt;[yes, I speak of my cat as if it's a real person, have you got a problem with that?! She's far much better than most people I've seen around. If we have them called people, &lt;u&gt;why can't I treat my cat as one?!&lt;/u&gt;]&lt;/s&gt; a little play house. I'm sure she's going to enjoy it and untill them I won't be thinking what a looser I am or how bad my love life is right now or even how some who I thought were friends simply weren't real friends. I need to focus on positive things. Yep, this was what I learned from a 1 year relationship. A relationship which hadn't much success by the end and proved my best friend right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I really wonder if I'm better being myself or instead I should have been somebody other than myself. It's easier for society to be what they want me to be but should I?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I find sometimes its easy to be myself/Sometimes I find it's better to be somebody else" So Much to Say - DMB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I had done things differently in my life, if I had turned right instead of left would I still be the same person? This little thought that always tormented me: If I had gone to another area and not science would I still be the same? Would I be happier? Would I be more saddened? I have chosen this way, though...the deed is done, there's no coming back...but still...I wonder. If my life goes wrong will I ever be able to forgive me for taken this left turn instead of the right one?! I'm not really sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Could I have been anyone other than me?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are time where I feel like I'm wrong in the world, that I'm not going to be accepted, loved for who I am. Life can be tough and marvelous. I want to be myself and I want it to still be marvelous, can these two go together?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many troubling matters in my mind that I need a little escape time, an escape space too. &lt;u&gt;I simply don't know&lt;/u&gt; what escape I can have but I somehow feel a book, a real good book would be a nice idea. But no book seems to really excite me and amaze me anymore. All of them seem so dull and run out of life these days. I need a book that keeps me desperately waiting for the next page to be read. I need something which speaks about science but with a bit of fiction. The quite amount of fiction and science that doesn't make it sound unreal or so real and elitist I can't understand it's vocabulary. I need excitement, I need action not too much description.&lt;br /&gt;I'm never able to read a whole book because by the middle of it I started getting so bored and disappointed I find there's no need to know the end. Book shouldn't be that way or have so many ups and downs, twists and turns. As for me, by the third twist I get dizzie and bored. I don't like predictable ending or so many twists and turns it makes me want to drop reading the book. It's nearly a battle to finish and it shouldn't. It shouldn't. A book should be a pleasure to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all a blur like most of my life decisions....It's all kind of grey and blury. My feelings, my decisions, my book choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;I simply want a book, a good book!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-2279493524207887504?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/2279493524207887504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-want-book-good-book.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/2279493524207887504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/2279493524207887504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-want-book-good-book.html' title='I want a book, a good book'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-8112333385715047127</id><published>2009-08-05T17:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T15:10:53.856+01:00</updated><title type='text'>There are great exceptions</title><content type='html'>There are people we don't have the patience to care enough to reply or say anything at all when a friendship is dying. There are people who are worth every single effort because there's something building that's worth saving. The second kind of people are exceptions, great exceptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 4 hour talk in a mall with V. Nothing actually felt more perfect than that. The subjects just kept coming out and they were so true, they came from deep inside from both sides. I told her things I never thought I'd ever tell to anyone. Old feelings, recent feelings. It's almost odd how things just clicked together, subjects just came, we let our feelings come out and it was just it, two of us letting all out, talking, supporting. Just it, no complications, no dramas. Just&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I know it's a day I won't ever forget and it's life changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life it's all so confusing and blur but suddently this was clear, was that and I knew it was calling me to change to getting out, to saying what I mean. I mean...I seriously never thought I'd tell some stuff to anyone at all and there they were...coming out of my mouth. Most of the things that were said there I'm not even able to repeat 'cause the moment, the words coming out. The most wonderful evening of understanding, hearing, friendship. That was...&lt;strong&gt;it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally felt free of worries, simple, understood most of all. I know I still haven't found myself in so many ways but now I know I will. I know we will get it, get a long sucessful life. I always knew she would but the words escaped me, they just flew at the right moments. I have changed and whoever truly knows me, knows I did. I'm not big into words nowadays, not the one's with some feeling, anyhow. I have changed and I'm better at my own eyes but when shall I know I am effectively better?! Never, I guess. I can't see me as an outsider but I can get true friends now and that really, really makes all sense. That's all I need for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I see it, I'm going to do what I think is best, I'm going to be absolutly true to myself. Things will come out if there's a need for them to come out. The rest will crash into life naturally. I will keep on working hard, fighting but without much worries. Just letting it flow. I have found one great friends, 2 years ago. I know I have true friends. I have that, it's all I need. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you V &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;with all the words there are and a few more. She gets me, no words needed, no dramas, it's just it. I like keeping things simple and living life. That's it, highly important: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;living life as it is for now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we will die"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoying everyday as if it's the last one but yet, not ignoring the future. Yesterday afternoon/night I had a blast and ...it was spechless. That's all that really matters. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-8112333385715047127?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/8112333385715047127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/there-are-great-exceptions.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8112333385715047127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/8112333385715047127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/there-are-great-exceptions.html' title='There are great exceptions'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275570279320602380.post-6609614171569768261</id><published>2009-08-04T04:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T18:46:28.623Z</updated><title type='text'>Sorry, I'm not a people person</title><content type='html'>How many times have we got to handle others' confidences? After others tell us they don't need us, why are we &lt;strong&gt;still&lt;/strong&gt; there when something goes wrong? Why us? If your friends don't want your opinion about their relationship with person X or Y, then why? Why do they even bother calling us in the middle of the night crying? Why even bother?&lt;br /&gt;I told them I wouldn't have a say about that subject because they didn't want me to. Though suddently I have to help them and still have the patience to hear them after warning them? I'm sorry?! NOOOOTTTTT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should actually answer: "Go f**** yourself!". At least I should have done it sometime today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*re-reads the last written sentence* It is official. I am angry, furious, I wanna kill someone in anger. I'm in an angry mood because I just don't like people and have no patience to even care about their insignificant problems. When will they get it?! I just don't care if you broke up with that boyfriend/girlfriend I've always hated! I just don't care if you have argued with person H or I! I JUST DON'T F****** CARE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, those people shouldn't bother to talk if they know I'm eventually going to tell them to piss off. Why do people even bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to keep things simple, basic and full of honesty. I'm complicated enough all by myself. I need things to be easy, to let it flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 3 top and really special bands in my life. I have learned from their lyrics that I should just live for today, love for today, enjoy today as much as possible and have patience about the rest, &lt;strong&gt;A LOT&lt;/strong&gt; of &lt;strong&gt;patience&lt;/strong&gt;. Incredibly enough, I'm finding it hard to get to the last one. Patience is a virtue but it is not easy to reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to go on singing "Patience" from Guns N' Roses. However patience is one thing that actually lacks in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why worry about the future and throw today away?! That's why I love Dave Matthews Band's songs, tell us to just celebrate for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, now...isn't now anymore, I'm thinking now but right now that now is already past. Time is not a defined line. Time is a tricky bastard. Oh, seriously and I'm actually wasting time on this....[not that I bother talking about time lines or anything science fiction/physics related]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;strong&gt;trying&lt;/strong&gt; not to kill anyone for today with this lack of patience and angry mood. I'll go back to writing whenever I feel like it, no restrictions, just going with the flow... And this is how I like my life to be. Simple, fun, relaxing, enjoying every single bit. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/275570279320602380-6609614171569768261?l=giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/feeds/6609614171569768261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-im-not-people-person.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6609614171569768261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/275570279320602380/posts/default/6609614171569768261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://giffstheanties-kitkat.blogspot.com/2009/08/sorry-im-not-people-person.html' title='Sorry, I&apos;m not a people person'/><author><name>The Kit Kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09435516764694114861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3tkpXRBoCnk/SrfGy7HAtxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/gTtdFAmQ8i8/S220/P25-08-09_16.14%5B01%5D.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
