<?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-5437615309460901184</id><updated>2012-02-16T11:17:02.915Z</updated><category term='t'/><category term='e'/><category term='Ele'/><title type='text'>Nocturia</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2862812850591453670</id><published>2012-01-31T17:25:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-01-31T17:25:39.830Z</updated><title type='text'>Porque ando nas nuvens*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EUfLXNCtbD4/TygkAp0Ke8I/AAAAAAAAAW4/3uDmIp5zmqY/s1600/keep-calm-marry-on_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EUfLXNCtbD4/TygkAp0Ke8I/AAAAAAAAAW4/3uDmIp5zmqY/s1600/keep-calm-marry-on_large.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2862812850591453670?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2862812850591453670/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/porque-ando-nas-nuvens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2862812850591453670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2862812850591453670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/porque-ando-nas-nuvens.html' title='Porque ando nas nuvens*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EUfLXNCtbD4/TygkAp0Ke8I/AAAAAAAAAW4/3uDmIp5zmqY/s72-c/keep-calm-marry-on_large.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8562481216697948381</id><published>2012-01-17T23:13:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-01-17T23:13:32.081Z</updated><title type='text'>Hoje.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hoje [e todos os dias da minha vida], mas principalmente hoje, pegava em ti e&amp;nbsp;fugíamos&amp;nbsp;para aquele cantinho só nosso, chamado de Lua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hoje [e todos os dias da minha vida], mas principalmente hoje, abraçava-te e não te largava mais. Dizia-te todos os nossos segredos tão repetidos e tão sentidos. Contava-te uma História cheia de magia.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hoje [e todos os dias da minha vida], mas principalmente hoje, Amava-te de forma incondicional.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q1UKb7x2gwY/TxYAXV7u9PI/AAAAAAAAAWs/IPw3nFFpMcU/s1600/tumblr_luo4z5pzNE1r5lszxo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="125" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q1UKb7x2gwY/TxYAXV7u9PI/AAAAAAAAAWs/IPw3nFFpMcU/s320/tumblr_luo4z5pzNE1r5lszxo1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hoje [e todos os dias da minha vida], mas principalmente hoje, a Saudade dá cabo de mim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8562481216697948381?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8562481216697948381/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/hoje.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8562481216697948381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8562481216697948381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/hoje.html' title='Hoje.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q1UKb7x2gwY/TxYAXV7u9PI/AAAAAAAAAWs/IPw3nFFpMcU/s72-c/tumblr_luo4z5pzNE1r5lszxo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8513580379535082847</id><published>2012-01-15T16:21:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-01-15T16:21:25.892Z</updated><title type='text'>Give me forever*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0K4rr-ukkkE/TxL87V2E2jI/AAAAAAAAAWk/1Bjq9LsgNy4/s1600/tumblr_lj07owwXNA1qggr66o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="257" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0K4rr-ukkkE/TxL87V2E2jI/AAAAAAAAAWk/1Bjq9LsgNy4/s320/tumblr_lj07owwXNA1qggr66o1_500.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8513580379535082847?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8513580379535082847/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/give-me-forever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8513580379535082847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8513580379535082847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/give-me-forever.html' title='Give me forever*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0K4rr-ukkkE/TxL87V2E2jI/AAAAAAAAAWk/1Bjq9LsgNy4/s72-c/tumblr_lj07owwXNA1qggr66o1_500.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2757579938287174194</id><published>2012-01-07T04:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-07T04:43:21.594Z</updated><title type='text'>9 months and counting*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vUUdnSPJhQ/TwfNDjyxdOI/AAAAAAAAAWc/hmnQ_2EmhIQ/s1600/miss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="246" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vUUdnSPJhQ/TwfNDjyxdOI/AAAAAAAAAWc/hmnQ_2EmhIQ/s320/miss.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;E só faltam 9 meses para o Nosso Dia, o Inicio de um Happy ending sem fim :)* &lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2757579938287174194?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2757579938287174194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/9-months-and-counting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2757579938287174194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2757579938287174194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2012/01/9-months-and-counting.html' title='9 months and counting*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vUUdnSPJhQ/TwfNDjyxdOI/AAAAAAAAAWc/hmnQ_2EmhIQ/s72-c/miss.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3697035576739302796</id><published>2011-12-29T19:35:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-12-29T19:35:43.576Z</updated><title type='text'>A minha Mariquitas*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Para quem não sabe, ser Enfermeira [excepto as enfermeiras de centro de saúde ou de Hospital de Dia] implica automaticamente andar com uma agenda atrás de si SEMPRE, porquê? Porque trabalhar por turnos implica ter um horário incerto, onde rotina não é o prato do dia e para esta cabecinha que já dá&amp;nbsp;indícios&amp;nbsp;de algum alzheimer precoce, é mesmo necessário ter um suporte escrito a meu lado.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Em 2011 optei por uma agendazinha pequenita, que me supriu as necessidades&amp;nbsp;mínimas&amp;nbsp;e indispensáveis, mas faltava qualquer coisa... Faltava dar um bocadinho de magia ao planeamento dos meus dias, por isso recorri à &lt;a href="http://mariamariquitas.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mariquitas&lt;/a&gt; e em conjunto (com as minhas escolhas e a magia dela)&amp;nbsp;construímos&amp;nbsp;a minha agenda para 2012 e garanto-vos que é mesmo uma ajudinha para começar 2012 com o pé direito :) Obrigado minha querida*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9bOoN6iynTM/Tvy8xYAEjaI/AAAAAAAAAWU/7BYtAUd-Qhw/s1600/IMG_1410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9bOoN6iynTM/Tvy8xYAEjaI/AAAAAAAAAWU/7BYtAUd-Qhw/s320/IMG_1410.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;P.S. Para além de ser uma querida, ainda me mandou aquele miminho ao lado*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3697035576739302796?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3697035576739302796/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/minha-mariquitas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3697035576739302796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3697035576739302796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/minha-mariquitas.html' title='A minha Mariquitas*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9bOoN6iynTM/Tvy8xYAEjaI/AAAAAAAAAWU/7BYtAUd-Qhw/s72-c/IMG_1410.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3241013934875786356</id><published>2011-12-26T22:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-12-26T22:22:09.632Z</updated><title type='text'>Winnie the pooh*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLbXwfU9zjw/TvjzfC1GzYI/AAAAAAAAAWI/cigWszDzSjI/s1600/quote%252Clove%252Chug%252Clove%252Cme%252Csweet%252Cfriends-c16c8e2347429d088b51ddcb38fdf2a7_h_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLbXwfU9zjw/TvjzfC1GzYI/AAAAAAAAAWI/cigWszDzSjI/s320/quote%252Clove%252Chug%252Clove%252Cme%252Csweet%252Cfriends-c16c8e2347429d088b51ddcb38fdf2a7_h_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3241013934875786356?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3241013934875786356/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3241013934875786356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3241013934875786356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title='Winnie the pooh*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLbXwfU9zjw/TvjzfC1GzYI/AAAAAAAAAWI/cigWszDzSjI/s72-c/quote%252Clove%252Chug%252Clove%252Cme%252Csweet%252Cfriends-c16c8e2347429d088b51ddcb38fdf2a7_h_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-990885618617000946</id><published>2011-12-26T05:14:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-12-26T05:14:20.984Z</updated><title type='text'>Pai Natal*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quem me conhece, quem realmente me conhece, sabe bem que o Natal é uma das épocas que eu mais adoro no ano. Adoro o facto de as ruas começarem a ganhar um brilho especial, em todas as casas vermos um pinheirinho a brilhar ou um pai natal a subir a chaminé, vemos os trilhos da cidade a soarem a cânticos natalicios, as pessoas como que por magia tornam-se mais generosas e preocupadas (e sim, o Natal é quando o Homem quer e por essa razão deveria ser todos os dias do ano), adoro o corropio de achar uma prenda/miminho perfeito para aquela determinada pessoa, sobretudo acho que esta época o que mais conta é o "dar", não só prendas, mas sim abraços, beijinhos, sopa, dormida, de tudo um pouco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu já não acredito no Pai Natal, mal era, mas acredito na Magia e no Poder do amor&amp;nbsp;e da partilha. O maior exemplo disso é por exemplo, a força que um miminho, um simples Feliz Natal ou Gosto Muito de ti, adquire para aquelas pessoas que estão sós nesta época, quer por estarem hospitalizadas ou abandonadas, aqueles que trabalham nestes dias, têm de todo uma importância enorme, quer queiramos ou não os utentes tornam-se a nossa segunda familia e temos de os confortar o melhor possível. Realmente é chato trabalhar no Natal, para mim custa-me por não poder ter o meu Antigo ritual natalicio e passar 48h com as pessoas que mais amo e prezo, e apesar de já ser o 3º ano consecutivo a trabalhar nestes dias ainda não me habituei, e talvez seja por isso que este ano o Natal me soube a pouco. É por estas razões que por vezes, quando me sinto mais sozinha e carente mal digo um bocadinho da minha profissão (de boca cheia, eu sei), quer por estar a trabalhar a 100 km de casa, por estar longe dos meus, por questões financeiras ou de reconhecimento de classes, quer por fazer noites, feriados e fins de semana, às vezes trabalhar às 20h seguidas, etc. tudo isto deixa de ter qualquer valor quando aquele que mais sofre esbanja um sorriso enorme com gestos tão simples, para muitos eu e os meus colegas já somos a sua primeira familia. Por isto e muito mais, damos o nosso melhor e é o mínimo que podemos fazer. Por isto é que eu sei que nasci para ser Enfermeira, porque me sinto realizada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;Este ano quase todas as prendinhas que pedi me apareceram no sapatinho... O amor incondicional a meu lado [como te disse mais do que uma vez, Tudo o que quero para este Natal és Tu*], uma familia com saúde e feliz e força de vontade para continuar a lutar. Só falta o trabalhinho perto de casa e um bocadinho de neve e&amp;nbsp;sou feliz a 150%.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g9w92mkt0f4/TvgCa0qZzwI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Es84rICdj28/s1600/painatal_animais.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g9w92mkt0f4/TvgCa0qZzwI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Es84rICdj28/s320/painatal_animais.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-990885618617000946?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/990885618617000946/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/pai-natal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/990885618617000946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/990885618617000946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/12/pai-natal.html' title='Pai Natal*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g9w92mkt0f4/TvgCa0qZzwI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Es84rICdj28/s72-c/painatal_animais.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6924921916009950486</id><published>2011-11-23T05:22:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-11-23T05:23:34.294Z</updated><title type='text'>You touch my soul*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FAVPpu8KLI/TsyDIAD2pEI/AAAAAAAAAVs/OgCJ7m3Ol2M/s1600/383867_220814451321856_100001799089455_478529_1620318265_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FAVPpu8KLI/TsyDIAD2pEI/AAAAAAAAAVs/OgCJ7m3Ol2M/s320/383867_220814451321856_100001799089455_478529_1620318265_n.jpg" width="298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6924921916009950486?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6924921916009950486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/11/you-touch-my-soul.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6924921916009950486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6924921916009950486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/11/you-touch-my-soul.html' title='You touch my soul*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5FAVPpu8KLI/TsyDIAD2pEI/AAAAAAAAAVs/OgCJ7m3Ol2M/s72-c/383867_220814451321856_100001799089455_478529_1620318265_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1292966542667173092</id><published>2011-11-15T23:14:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-11-15T23:18:29.207Z</updated><title type='text'>The notebook experience*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWiU16-6NG4/TsLzK2Tw4oI/AAAAAAAAAVc/ZdVrGsJ6j4k/s1600/image-preview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWiU16-6NG4/TsLzK2Tw4oI/AAAAAAAAAVc/ZdVrGsJ6j4k/s320/image-preview.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever. I love you. I'll be seeing you."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sempre e para sempre, Tua*&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1292966542667173092?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1292966542667173092/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/11/notebook-experience.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1292966542667173092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1292966542667173092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/11/notebook-experience.html' title='The notebook experience*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWiU16-6NG4/TsLzK2Tw4oI/AAAAAAAAAVc/ZdVrGsJ6j4k/s72-c/image-preview.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1173302956768490528</id><published>2011-10-21T04:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T04:46:07.424+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;E hoje, por mais que a saudade me aperte o coração e me coloque numa nostalgia exacerbada, por momentos ele prencheu-me o coração com o gesto mais simples. O gesto da palavra, ou como quem diz tudo aquilo que ela significa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Fica-me no pensamento Tu e o &lt;em&gt;"Não só sinto como tenho a certeza. És o que eu posso querer de melhor, o meu maior sonho!&lt;/em&gt;",&amp;nbsp;durante estas horas tão vagas que&amp;nbsp;tendem a passar devagar, devagarinho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Daqui a umas horas&amp;nbsp;já somos novamente, só Eu e Tu no Nosso cantinho. Mal posso esperar* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1173302956768490528?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1173302956768490528/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/10/e-hoje-por-mais-que-saudade-me-aperte-o.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1173302956768490528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1173302956768490528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/10/e-hoje-por-mais-que-saudade-me-aperte-o.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8614130397292024897</id><published>2011-09-08T22:34:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T22:34:31.913+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Experience*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4dunFnuHbMU/Tmk0zOCBMwI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lP_fBFA07Zs/s1600/anigif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4dunFnuHbMU/Tmk0zOCBMwI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lP_fBFA07Zs/s320/anigif.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8614130397292024897?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8614130397292024897/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/09/experience.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8614130397292024897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8614130397292024897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/09/experience.html' title='Experience*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4dunFnuHbMU/Tmk0zOCBMwI/AAAAAAAAAU0/lP_fBFA07Zs/s72-c/anigif.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8376537996684311978</id><published>2011-09-07T04:13:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T14:57:21.070+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu Mais-que-Tudo *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UgYeA_JBM_I/Tmbg04LWU9I/AAAAAAAAAUs/FW2bQ3Hhy7g/s1600/hug1_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" nba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UgYeA_JBM_I/Tmbg04LWU9I/AAAAAAAAAUs/FW2bQ3Hhy7g/s320/hug1_large.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none; border-width: medium; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;E quando as saudades apertam (quase me esmagam por completo) a única solução, o único remédio,&amp;nbsp;é fechar os olhos e pensar em ti, naquela pessoa que me completa em todas as vertentes da minha existência, é pensar em tudo o que sinto [felicidade no seu estado mais puro e perfeito] quando estou a teu lado. A vida surge-nos como capítulos de um livro, que há medida que o vamos lendo, temos uma noção mais&amp;nbsp;exacta do que poderemos encontrar no fim, e apesar de também poder sofrer uma reviravolta de 180º, a nossa história é tão especial, tão mas tão única, que só consigo pensar é neste "Presente-mais-que-perfeito" que me percorre serenamente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none; border-width: medium; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Não quero chegar&amp;nbsp;ao fim&amp;nbsp;da nossa história, o nosso livro de memórias em fase de construção, porque isto é apenas, o inicio do meu sonho, o inicio do meu Final Feliz. Ou será correcto dizer o nosso? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-color: -moz-use-text-color; border-style: none; border-width: medium; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Como é que me consegues ser, simplesmente, &lt;b&gt;Tudo&lt;/b&gt;? É mesmo aquele sentimento que me ultrapassa, tornando-se muito difícil exprimi-lo por meras palavras pré-fabricadas, tão usadas de forma supérflua na nossa sociedade que acabam por se tornarem desvalorizadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8376537996684311978?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8376537996684311978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/09/o-meu-mais-que-tudo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8376537996684311978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8376537996684311978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/09/o-meu-mais-que-tudo.html' title='O meu Mais-que-Tudo *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UgYeA_JBM_I/Tmbg04LWU9I/AAAAAAAAAUs/FW2bQ3Hhy7g/s72-c/hug1_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6501857796713072806</id><published>2011-08-12T19:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T19:55:36.957+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Three little words.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E são dias como este, em que a saudade aperta tanto e nos coloca a pensar no sentido que a nossa vida está a tomar, que gestos como o teu, me fazem feliz e esquecer por momentos esta correria de vida que levo entre Coimbra-Santa Maria da Feira. Quero encontrar o nosso equilibrio, começar a pensar num futuro que desejo próximo. Ter-te a meu lado continua a ser aquilo que não abdico, és o meu porto seguro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W3poMGCIXKc/TkV1YAjQW5I/AAAAAAAAAUk/7OX3qbqh6_c/s1600/1158695464_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W3poMGCIXKc/TkV1YAjQW5I/AAAAAAAAAUk/7OX3qbqh6_c/s320/1158695464_f.jpg" width="241" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Three little words, I Love You "Babe" *&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6501857796713072806?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6501857796713072806/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/08/three-little-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6501857796713072806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6501857796713072806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/08/three-little-words.html' title='Three little words.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W3poMGCIXKc/TkV1YAjQW5I/AAAAAAAAAUk/7OX3qbqh6_c/s72-c/1158695464_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3644899558275634063</id><published>2011-07-12T17:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T17:15:19.321+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dizem que a vida é feita para ser vivida ao máximo, que são dois dias e um já passou... Dizem e eu concordo. Para mim a vida é uma sucessão continua de vários momentos que&amp;nbsp;nos passam à frente tão mas tão velozmente, acabo por ter a sensação que o tempo voa mesmo e se não tivermos cuidado e nos acomodarmos à rotina estandardizada, quando acordarmos já pode ser tarde de mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aliás, não tenho nada contra a rotina, para mim até se torna um desafio, encarar a rotina e transformá-la em momentos de magia e divertimento. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Para mim viver euforicamente não significa ter não sei quantas relações, ir a não sei quantas festas e apanhar não sei quantas bebedeiras... Para mim, aproveitar a vida na sua totalidade tem de incluir o meu amor, a minha família e os verdadeiros amigos. Viver com a mesma pessoa dia após dia, durante 70 anos, experienciar sensações fascinantes e únicas com ela e criar um espaço só nosso, ter filhos e crescer não significa acomodar-me à rotina, significa saber arriscar com o coração na sua totalidade. Porque ter 100 parceiros é fácil, ter um parceiro e estar com ele 100 anos é difícil e complexo, aqui surge&amp;nbsp;o grande desafio da vida, saber acolher&amp;nbsp; "rotina" e saber dar-lhe a volta, criar momentos de surpresa, amor e magia, saber molda-la.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Olhar para aquela pessoa e saber que ela é a tua metade, aquela que te completa na grande maioria dos aspectos, saber num só relance que é com ela que queres ficar o resto da tua vida, quer sejam 70 anos ou 25550 dias ou 613200 horas, olhar para esses números e teres a sensação de uma finitude tão fugaz, que mesmo o infinito é pouco para te sentires satisfeita. Andares de mão dada, abraçares e sentires que estás a abraçar o sol, sentires a fragrância e os lábios colados aos teus, viajares com ele e sentires realmente que estás a conhecer o mundo em todas as suas vertentes,&amp;nbsp;adormecer todos os dias em conchinha e&amp;nbsp;por vezes teres dificuldade em adormecer pela presença de um medo virtual de o perderes, isso é amor, e porque &lt;strong&gt;o amor vive dos pormenores&lt;/strong&gt;, eu quero pegar naquilo que temos e enche-lo de pormenores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qgiOAJeCn7U/ThxyyGNDYAI/AAAAAAAAAUc/YHpOaPOgyh4/s1600/dndjdj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qgiOAJeCn7U/ThxyyGNDYAI/AAAAAAAAAUc/YHpOaPOgyh4/s320/dndjdj.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mal posso esperar pela nossa "rotina", aquela em que inclui um trabalho perto de ti, o nosso espacinho e acordar/adormecer todos os dias a teu lado, rir e chorar no teu ombro, encher-te de mimos e sentir que contigo a meu lado sou capaz de tudo, mal posso esperar garanto-te.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3644899558275634063?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3644899558275634063/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/07/dizem-que-vida-e-feita-para-ser-vivida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3644899558275634063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3644899558275634063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/07/dizem-que-vida-e-feita-para-ser-vivida.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qgiOAJeCn7U/ThxyyGNDYAI/AAAAAAAAAUc/YHpOaPOgyh4/s72-c/dndjdj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2892826938529793830</id><published>2011-07-11T18:15:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T18:15:09.505+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't be scared &amp; let's take the risk together.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JtT4Nl93RoA/ThsvQWUy5pI/AAAAAAAAAUY/UsUmdGCnZ-g/s1600/8779203_Z8D9p.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JtT4Nl93RoA/ThsvQWUy5pI/AAAAAAAAAUY/UsUmdGCnZ-g/s1600/8779203_Z8D9p.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2892826938529793830?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2892826938529793830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/07/dont-be-scared-lets-take-risk-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2892826938529793830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2892826938529793830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/07/dont-be-scared-lets-take-risk-together.html' title='Don&apos;t be scared &amp; let&apos;s take the risk together.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JtT4Nl93RoA/ThsvQWUy5pI/AAAAAAAAAUY/UsUmdGCnZ-g/s72-c/8779203_Z8D9p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6529476154063565868</id><published>2011-05-29T23:14:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T23:17:56.530+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Escrito a 23-07-2007. Ainda bem que há coisas que nunca mudam... *</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29lhzfdmTn8/TeLFhHDacBI/AAAAAAAAATw/JjEYTUYt0go/s1600/1185232249_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29lhzfdmTn8/TeLFhHDacBI/AAAAAAAAATw/JjEYTUYt0go/s400/1185232249_f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612265258276778002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Lembras-te desta foto? E tudo o que dela advém?&lt;br /&gt;Eu lembro-me perfeitamente :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembro-me  de toda a cumplicidade que criamos assim num estalar de dedos. De todas  as tardes passadas no nosso parque ou a vaguear por terras de Santa Maria, em  que nos íamos conhecendo pouco a pouco, mas de uma forma tão natural e  especial que acreditava e ainda acredito que somos especiais. Sabes  porquê? Porque fomos feitos um para o outro. És a minha metade piriquito  e disso eu tenho a certeza!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembro-me de todos os sorrisos,  mimos trocados, segredos de arrepiar, palavras ditas, suspiros, todos os  cheiros da nossa história. Lembro-me do 1º beijo, do 2º, de todos.  Todos os nossos sonhos, objectivos propostos. Todas as nossas lutas,  vencidas sempre de queixo erguido :) Lembro os nossos momentos menos  bons e os mais bons. Todos os sustos (até os mais recentes :p),  aventuras na feira, Oaz, Covilha, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que te quero dizer é, resumidamente isto, Amo-te Monteiro do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;Tu ensinaste-me a amar e sabes de uma coisa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É para sempre :$*"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6529476154063565868?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6529476154063565868/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/escrito-23-07-2007-ainda-bem-que-ha.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6529476154063565868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6529476154063565868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/escrito-23-07-2007-ainda-bem-que-ha.html' title='Escrito a 23-07-2007. Ainda bem que há coisas que nunca mudam... *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29lhzfdmTn8/TeLFhHDacBI/AAAAAAAAATw/JjEYTUYt0go/s72-c/1185232249_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4217620997432323189</id><published>2011-05-26T18:59:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T19:00:58.697+01:00</updated><title type='text'>One Day *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uLUWHW5NxwI?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;One day... Definitely :)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4217620997432323189?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4217620997432323189/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/one-day-trailer-2011-hd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4217620997432323189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4217620997432323189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/one-day-trailer-2011-hd.html' title='One Day *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/uLUWHW5NxwI/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2073847062291221714</id><published>2011-05-18T16:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T16:32:30.242+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desabafos de uma Enfermeira II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ás vezes, muitas vezes até, ser enfermeira [profissão que amo sem quaisquer dúvida], deixa-me completamente de rastos, esgotada e não tão poucas vezes quanto isso, leva-me até ao limite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A maior recompensa, para além dos ganhos em saúde daqueles que cuidamos, é ver o brilho nos seus olhos, uns sorrisos que valem milhões, ouvir certos agradecimentos que nos alimentam a alma, faz mesmo Tudo valer a pena. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2073847062291221714?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2073847062291221714/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/desabafos-de-uma-enfermeira-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2073847062291221714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2073847062291221714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/desabafos-de-uma-enfermeira-ii.html' title='Desabafos de uma Enfermeira II'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5198299258558350614</id><published>2011-05-08T17:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T18:07:25.504+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Placebo*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-517EURC834s/TcbMQf4mC_I/AAAAAAAAATo/NWZ3XgV0cUE/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-517EURC834s/TcbMQf4mC_I/AAAAAAAAATo/NWZ3XgV0cUE/s400/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604391370118007794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Me and my valuable friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; Can fix all the pain away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; So before I end my day, remember&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; My sweet prince, you are the one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;My sweet Prince *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5198299258558350614?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5198299258558350614/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/placebo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5198299258558350614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5198299258558350614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/placebo.html' title='Placebo*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-517EURC834s/TcbMQf4mC_I/AAAAAAAAATo/NWZ3XgV0cUE/s72-c/IMG_0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6871524106349860326</id><published>2011-05-01T22:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T22:20:12.035+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfection*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;« I carry your heart with me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   I carry it in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   I'm never without it. » &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E. Cummings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6871524106349860326?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6871524106349860326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/perfection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6871524106349860326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6871524106349860326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/05/perfection.html' title='Perfection*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6767462398181882473</id><published>2011-04-27T23:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T23:11:40.633+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, here it is, your choice… it’s simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LltqFAxg2WU?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I  love you, in a really, really big pretend to like your taste in music,  let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head  outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So pick me, choose me, love me.&lt;/strong&gt;...” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6767462398181882473?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6767462398181882473/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/okay-here-it-is-your-choice-its-simple.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6767462398181882473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6767462398181882473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/okay-here-it-is-your-choice-its-simple.html' title='Okay, here it is, your choice… it’s simple'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/LltqFAxg2WU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8242543196271281539</id><published>2011-04-26T23:29:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T00:00:38.029+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Para o meu M&amp;M*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hoje deixo as palavras escritas, os suspiros apaixonados, o amor simples (mas simultaneamente tão complexo) e sincero, o abraço apertado e um segredo "daqueles" só para ti, no espaço que existe só para nós, onde só tu ocupas o meu coração. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sabes (acho que não sabes...), mas tenho um imenso orgulho em ti, não por seres perfeito porque ninguém o é, apenas porque te transformaste em alguém extremamente especial. Assumis-te os teus erros, agarras-te o momento e lutas-te por aquilo que querias. Antigamente achava que eras uma pessoa que desistia facilmente das coisas/situações, mas provaste-me e a toda a gente que eras muito mais do que aquilo que presumiam, aquilo que imaginavam e foste capaz de sonhar, algumas vezes acordado, e conseguiste tocar nesse teu delírio perfeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Tenho muitos medos que me percorrem diariamente, tu conheces-me e não preciso de os descrever constantemente, mas a verdade é que tu consegues dissipar esses medos com um simples olhar, uma simples palavra que adquire uma conotação tão poderosa e admiro-te por tudo isso e por muito mais, admiro essencialmente a tua amizade pelos demais, o quanto te entregas mesmo quando te dão para trás, mesmo quando só existem interesses, admiro-te pela calma e segurança que transmites, admiro os pedaço da tua existência e mesmo aqueles que não são tão bons de recordar, eu encaro-os de frente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Admiro-te e Amo-te profundamente, não tens noção. E hoje saiu assim palavras sem lógica, formou-se um texto sentido sem sentido, desculpa-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hoje, o teu dia ainda agora está a começar, remember this... *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8242543196271281539?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8242543196271281539/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/para-o-meu-m.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8242543196271281539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8242543196271281539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/para-o-meu-m.html' title='Para o meu M&amp;M*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-15344260478330366</id><published>2011-04-19T22:06:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T23:28:59.841+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-msPkyzKmqxc/Ta4MdGgTM7I/AAAAAAAAATg/4BlrtnDJ2TA/s1600/mau_te_amo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-msPkyzKmqxc/Ta4MdGgTM7I/AAAAAAAAATg/4BlrtnDJ2TA/s400/mau_te_amo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597425080969933746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Como eu gosto [é um sentimento que cresce exponencialmente] de construir, cada bocadinho, do nosso ninho. Perfeito *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-15344260478330366?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/15344260478330366/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/15344260478330366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/15344260478330366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html' title='...*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-msPkyzKmqxc/Ta4MdGgTM7I/AAAAAAAAATg/4BlrtnDJ2TA/s72-c/mau_te_amo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8411663999423135311</id><published>2011-04-17T19:42:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T23:09:59.375+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Super (L)*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--iCeGl-zNcw/Tas1L-RVUeI/AAAAAAAAATY/UgVpjddfq7M/s1600/P1050830%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--iCeGl-zNcw/Tas1L-RVUeI/AAAAAAAAATY/UgVpjddfq7M/s400/P1050830%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596625441748505058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Não existem limites para o "Nós", nem mesmo o céu. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8411663999423135311?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8411663999423135311/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/super-l.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8411663999423135311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8411663999423135311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/super-l.html' title='Super (L)*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--iCeGl-zNcw/Tas1L-RVUeI/AAAAAAAAATY/UgVpjddfq7M/s72-c/P1050830%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-585692495584328877</id><published>2011-04-16T02:52:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T02:53:53.738+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2nyCxF9vFDk/Taj2p2UfzzI/AAAAAAAAATQ/DZ7PexE0u0s/s1600/Soledad_y_Tristeza_by_Magdalena220.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2nyCxF9vFDk/Taj2p2UfzzI/AAAAAAAAATQ/DZ7PexE0u0s/s400/Soledad_y_Tristeza_by_Magdalena220.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595993735824396082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Faltam-me pedaços da tua história...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-585692495584328877?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/585692495584328877/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/faltam-me-pedacos-da-tua-historia.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/585692495584328877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/585692495584328877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/faltam-me-pedacos-da-tua-historia.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2nyCxF9vFDk/Taj2p2UfzzI/AAAAAAAAATQ/DZ7PexE0u0s/s72-c/Soledad_y_Tristeza_by_Magdalena220.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-418780343872649598</id><published>2011-04-14T21:54:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T22:12:59.361+01:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OEcQRjp8SUM/TadjGf9YrUI/AAAAAAAAATI/Uwkw_NPlWgQ/s1600/PS_I_Love_You_by_pinkparis1233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OEcQRjp8SUM/TadjGf9YrUI/AAAAAAAAATI/Uwkw_NPlWgQ/s400/PS_I_Love_You_by_pinkparis1233.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595550025340464450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Explica-me o porquê de esta &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDgiq21uUhg&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;cena&lt;/a&gt; me ser tão familiar? :$&lt;br /&gt;Adoro todos os nossos pequeninos pormenores. Adoro todos os nossos  grandes pormenores. Adoro-te a ti (sabe-me a pouco esta palavra, quando  diz respeito a ti, por isso) amo-te de tal maneira que sou completamente  viciada em ti.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-418780343872649598?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/418780343872649598/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/ps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/418780343872649598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/418780343872649598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/ps.html' title='P.S.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OEcQRjp8SUM/TadjGf9YrUI/AAAAAAAAATI/Uwkw_NPlWgQ/s72-c/PS_I_Love_You_by_pinkparis1233.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7069632962033448300</id><published>2011-04-14T21:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T21:43:52.864+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Das amizades que deixam de fazer sentido...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBoUXxvT2X0/Tadca12uNcI/AAAAAAAAATA/6awejzcQ73Q/s1600/amizade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBoUXxvT2X0/Tadca12uNcI/AAAAAAAAATA/6awejzcQ73Q/s400/amizade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595542678234084802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Assim do nada, assim como quem fecha e abre os olhos e o mundo que nos rodeia torna-se totalmente diferente. Sentimos-nos uns estranhos no nosso meio, olhamos com medo e com receio para os demais porque deixamos de os conhecer, ou eles deixam de querer nos conhecer.&lt;br /&gt;Destas amizades, que me partem por vezes o coração, a alma e muito mais, fica a saudade, o desejo de que um dia nos possamos reencontrar, apesar de percorrermos trilhos diferentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Destas amizades, eu continuo a prezar todos os "nossos" momentos (passados) e continuo (crente) que um dia tudo vai ser explicado e ultrapassado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guardo-vos sempre. *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7069632962033448300?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7069632962033448300/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/das-amizades-que-deixam-de-fazer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7069632962033448300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7069632962033448300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/das-amizades-que-deixam-de-fazer.html' title='Das amizades que deixam de fazer sentido...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bBoUXxvT2X0/Tadca12uNcI/AAAAAAAAATA/6awejzcQ73Q/s72-c/amizade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1874541992345350992</id><published>2011-04-05T12:26:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T12:27:43.619+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The song beneath the song *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;When you're on your own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I'll send you a sign&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;Just so you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am me, the universe and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am the universe and you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am the unvierse and you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;KT Tunstall - Universe and You *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rsU8IHMizXg?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1874541992345350992?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1874541992345350992/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/kt-tunstall-universe-and-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1874541992345350992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1874541992345350992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/kt-tunstall-universe-and-you.html' title='The song beneath the song *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rsU8IHMizXg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3115679444659213646</id><published>2011-04-04T17:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T17:42:45.503+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Made for You *</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;"Trust, I will always be there, waiting for your love&lt;br /&gt;Trust in the beauty inside, trust the name Explode&lt;br /&gt;Trust the colours of rainbows, even if it's dark&lt;br /&gt;Trust in the photos you did and the ones outside&lt;br /&gt;Trust in people, religions and all their hopes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;Trust in the meaning of life, this can only be love&lt;br /&gt;Trust the friends that we share, and the ones we don't&lt;br /&gt;Trust in me, trust in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;span class="text_exposed_show"&gt;Over and over and over..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/kXhBnQfzhAg?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3115679444659213646?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3115679444659213646/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/lucaslukas-made-for-you-new-music-from.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3115679444659213646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3115679444659213646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/04/lucaslukas-made-for-you-new-music-from.html' title='Made for You *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/kXhBnQfzhAg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6375584384290072040</id><published>2011-03-26T15:08:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-03-26T15:15:30.355Z</updated><title type='text'>Espelho meu, espelho meu.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Às vezes "invejo" a capacidade que algumas pessoas têm de transmitir ao exterior aquilo que o próprio coração não está a sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Quando olho para mim eu noto que sou transparente, não consigo enganar quem quer se seja, porque por norma a minha fácies, o meu olhar transmitem tudo aquilo que vai no meu interior, mesmo quando tento esconder, simplesmente não consigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Se estou triste sorrio, se algo me despedaça eu choro e às vezes gostava de não ser assim tão transparente, enfim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6375584384290072040?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6375584384290072040/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/espelho-meu-espelho-meu.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6375584384290072040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6375584384290072040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/espelho-meu-espelho-meu.html' title='Espelho meu, espelho meu.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2738572940481904843</id><published>2011-03-23T10:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-03-23T11:04:49.749Z</updated><title type='text'>Um desabafo sentido.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sinceramente acho que nunca me vou conseguir sentir preparada para a desilusão, mesmo quando já estou à espera que ela aconteça. Dói-me na alma sentir que as pessoas não são sinceras com os outros, mas principalmente com elas próprias. Passam a vida a tentar enganarem-se com inúmeras situações que lhes causam facilitismo, em vez de enfrentarem o "touro" pelos cornos e colocar o passado lá trás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Eu falo contra mim própria, uma vez que não me consigo dissociar do meu passado, das minhas lembranças e memórias, das minhas amizades de sempre e para sempre (outras não foram assim tão para sempre quanto isso, realmente até foram muito fugazes), mas simplesmente pelo facto de elas fazerem parte de mim, não as quero perpetuar, apenas as quero guardar para mais tarde recordar. Não vivo amargurada pelas coisas não terem corrido de tal forma ou maneira, não ando a brincar com o mundo só para mostrar que sou feliz ou que estou bem na vida e já ultrapassei tudo, não, eu não sou assim. Todos os que realmente me conhecem sabem quando estou realmente feliz, ou quando a vida me prega uma partida e me toca lá no coração, não minto para alcançar certos e determinados objectivos, ultrapasso os obstáculos com mais ou menos esforços e não os esqueço, apenas me servem para recordar o quão forte eu sou e servem para eu, cada dia que passa, dar mais valor aos pequenos (grandes) detalhes do que me rodeia. Seja o amor da minha vida, a minha família, a família dele/nossa, os poucos amigos que restaram perante o momento da verdade, seja o meu trabalho (que adoro profundamente), os meus doentes, as minhas gomas/chupas, a praia, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sou verdadeiramente feliz, porque me sinto realizada em todos os aspectos, mas claro que existem dias em que o cansaço/tristeza também surgem e algumas lágrimas e gritos são derramados, a diferença é que eu não uso as pessoas para beneficio próprio, só para tentar mostrar que sou feliz, a diferença é que consigo ultrapassar tudo de cabeça erguida e com ele a meu lado (para a vida* Amo-te*).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2738572940481904843?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2738572940481904843/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/um-desabafo-sentido.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2738572940481904843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2738572940481904843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/um-desabafo-sentido.html' title='Um desabafo sentido.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4278123081901870447</id><published>2011-03-22T09:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-03-22T09:53:08.523Z</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere Over the Rainbow*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Se há algum momento (existem muitos), alguma situação, que me faz  sorrir instantaneamente, essa é a do nosso primeiro beijo. Lembras-te?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Após  uma pequena caminhada lado a lado, a  tentar fazer com que desabafasses  comigo, até que decidimos sentar naquelas escadinhas ao lado do  porta13. Para não variar, comecei a falar e a falar, a dizer tudo e a  não dizer nada, até que a magia aconteceu. Tu beijaste-me, de uma forma  tão inesperada e tão maravilhosa que me arrebatou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Acreditas-te  se eu te disser, que naquele período em que estávamos de olhos fechados,  abraçados, eu só via estrelas a brilharem à nossa volta? Foi perfeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Claro  que, como sempre, eu estrago os momentos e como não sabia como reagir  desatei-me a rir, não de gozo ou algo do género, mas sim de alegria e  surpresa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nothing beats the first kiss*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PQ3TWgNERAU?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4278123081901870447?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4278123081901870447/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/50-first-dates-somewhere-over-rainbow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4278123081901870447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4278123081901870447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/50-first-dates-somewhere-over-rainbow.html' title='Somewhere Over the Rainbow*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/PQ3TWgNERAU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1456293300677619775</id><published>2011-03-19T14:40:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-03-19T15:29:28.318Z</updated><title type='text'>À minha Laranjinha*</title><content type='html'>Hoje o dia é só dela (e do meu pai também, mas mais dela), por todas as razões e mais algumas, mas principalmente porque eu a adoro e porque faz parte de mim, já é algo intrínseco.&lt;br /&gt;Passamos a vida a estrilhar uma com a outra, por tudo e por nada, mas a verdade é que estamos lá sempre, uma para a outra. Sorrimos e abraçamos-nos como se não houvesse amanhã e a verdade é que ultimamente temos estado pouco tempo juntas, porque eu estou neste ponto do país e ela mudou-se para Lisboa, mas como prova que a nossa amizade é eterna (eu acredito mesmo que é), nada mudou, por telemóvel ou através da tuna, partilhamos a nossa vida constantemente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És-me tudo Mara Lestre, fazes parte daquele pequeno rol de pessoas que estão bem guardadinhas cá dentro, no coraçãozinho, e a quem eu me dou por completo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5b38h9IaH8Q/TYTLxAFkSpI/AAAAAAAAAS4/vlzzIk373tI/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5b38h9IaH8Q/TYTLxAFkSpI/AAAAAAAAAS4/vlzzIk373tI/s400/IMG_0021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585813480543636114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou uma sortuda por te ter, sempre, a meu lado. Love you girl*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1456293300677619775?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1456293300677619775/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/minha-laranjinha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1456293300677619775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1456293300677619775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/minha-laranjinha.html' title='À minha Laranjinha*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5b38h9IaH8Q/TYTLxAFkSpI/AAAAAAAAAS4/vlzzIk373tI/s72-c/IMG_0021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1148982179527967712</id><published>2011-03-18T18:27:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-03-18T18:28:58.347Z</updated><title type='text'>M&amp;M *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEdW2JpAO8Q/TYOkNxSxOWI/AAAAAAAAASw/rAEWfIQn9gw/s1600/So-cute-_-love-18718792-370-500_large.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEdW2JpAO8Q/TYOkNxSxOWI/AAAAAAAAASw/rAEWfIQn9gw/s400/So-cute-_-love-18718792-370-500_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585488519346862434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero isto tudo contigo. Que me dizes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1148982179527967712?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1148982179527967712/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/m.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1148982179527967712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1148982179527967712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/m.html' title='M&amp;M *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IEdW2JpAO8Q/TYOkNxSxOWI/AAAAAAAAASw/rAEWfIQn9gw/s72-c/So-cute-_-love-18718792-370-500_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5197960639164464873</id><published>2011-03-05T22:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-05T22:52:59.544Z</updated><title type='text'>Gostei*</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/85Ys1wb_vjo?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5197960639164464873?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5197960639164464873/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/gostei.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5197960639164464873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5197960639164464873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/03/gostei.html' title='Gostei*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/85Ys1wb_vjo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1176382254619163905</id><published>2011-02-13T20:43:00.005Z</published><updated>2011-02-13T22:46:03.328Z</updated><title type='text'>O nosso dia Do Amigo *</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GGbpluwWKQ/TVhetVAdVnI/AAAAAAAAASk/3bJd_Semoqc/s1600/Imagem0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0qXJdZpq7Nc/TVhej85PGPI/AAAAAAAAASc/bJkVgzPAG_k/s1600/Imagem0050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0qXJdZpq7Nc/TVhej85PGPI/AAAAAAAAASc/bJkVgzPAG_k/s400/Imagem0050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573308510605613298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O dia de hoje é marcante para mim, é sem dúvida nenhuma, marcante para Nós. Porquê? Por um sem número de razões que são só nossas, que só a nós nos diz respeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Há um ano conseguiste-me levar à lua com tão pouco, aquele gesto de amor tão simples e perfeito (mas que ainda representava &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Muito - Demasiado&lt;/span&gt; para mim), fez-me tão feliz, tão completa. Não podia aceitar ainda no Dia dos Namorados na sua íntegra porque ainda não estava preparada e por isso criamos uma data só nossa. Um dia do Amigo só nosso (pois internacionalmente se realiza a 30 de Julho). Disseste-me para eu fechar os olhos e ouvir-te, disseste-me para eu fazer um esforço e me deixares mostrar que a magia ainda era possível, que eu ainda não tinha visto nada e que tudo era só o inicio, o inicio de um sonho sem fim, de uma história de amor com um verdadeiro happy ending, tal como na história do príncipe e da princesa, do castelo (não me importo que seja um T2 com vista para o mar ou melhor melhor, uma casinha em frente à praia) e do nosso cavalo branco (não me importo que venha antes um mini cooper :p).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GGbpluwWKQ/TVhetVAdVnI/AAAAAAAAASk/3bJd_Semoqc/s1600/Imagem0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GGbpluwWKQ/TVhetVAdVnI/AAAAAAAAASk/3bJd_Semoqc/s400/Imagem0051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573308671697180274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Pediste-me para eu acreditar em ti e eu acreditei, sem pensar duas vezes, sem olhar para trás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Acredito em ti, de corpo e alma, com todas as minhas forças, e apesar de não esquecer tudo o que me aconteceu, tudo o que te aconteceu, hoje posso dizer que la vitta é bella. E isso significa tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Significa que tivemos um passado com momentos muito bons, bons e maus, um presente perfeito e um futuro ainda por desvendar, que sabemos que vai ser passado lado a lado. Como ter essa certeza? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Simples, Porque Tu e Eu somos Um! E eu sou toda tua*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Amo-te meu perfeitinho, obrigado pelo presente (ADOREI), pelos beijinhos e pelos abraços constantes*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1176382254619163905?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1176382254619163905/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/o-nosso-dia-do-amigo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1176382254619163905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1176382254619163905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/o-nosso-dia-do-amigo.html' title='O nosso dia Do Amigo *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0qXJdZpq7Nc/TVhej85PGPI/AAAAAAAAASc/bJkVgzPAG_k/s72-c/Imagem0050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4307208971112934292</id><published>2011-02-09T22:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-02-09T22:28:04.360Z</updated><title type='text'>True, so true *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;« It's better to be a lion for a day, than a sheep all your life. »&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Elizabeth Kenny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4307208971112934292?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4307208971112934292/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/true-so-true.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4307208971112934292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4307208971112934292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/true-so-true.html' title='True, so true *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7884036210737073123</id><published>2011-02-07T17:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-02-07T17:33:21.785Z</updated><title type='text'>A cor da felicidade.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Vivo um amor todo claro sem neblina nem geada, suave e seguro na ausência, violento e vulcânico na presença, feito de corpo, alma, coração e sexo, de entrega, verdade e paixão, de respeito e de entendimento, de riso e de admiração, de presença e de futuro, projectado em casas ainda não vividas, sonhado em viagens a consumar, desenhado a quatro mãos em sonhos e planos possíveis, vontades por descobrir e desejos a realizar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;O lado bom de ter um coração novo é que só entra lá para dentro quem tu queres. E como os fantasmas já se diluíram no sangue e no tempo, aqui me encontro, entregue à felicidade, onde tudo é branco como todas as cores e azul como o céu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vivo o céu na terra, sou uma mulher cheia de sorte."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Margarida&lt;/span&gt; Rebelo Pinto&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7884036210737073123?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7884036210737073123/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/cor-da-felicidade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7884036210737073123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7884036210737073123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/02/cor-da-felicidade.html' title='A cor da felicidade.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3246429606928454639</id><published>2011-01-22T18:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-01-22T18:02:46.562Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TTsbuhPWUWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/P4OiLedcVGA/s1600/tumblr_lehmvxJaFJ1qbpwzeo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TTsbuhPWUWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/P4OiLedcVGA/s400/tumblr_lehmvxJaFJ1qbpwzeo1_400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565072250557059426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3246429606928454639?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3246429606928454639/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post_22.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3246429606928454639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3246429606928454639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post_22.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TTsbuhPWUWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/P4OiLedcVGA/s72-c/tumblr_lehmvxJaFJ1qbpwzeo1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4585082024553701900</id><published>2011-01-21T12:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-01-21T12:15:57.427Z</updated><title type='text'>Tu e Tu *</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 style="text-align: center;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;I believe we can be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;h6 style="text-align: center;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;5 anos a amar-te*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4585082024553701900?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4585082024553701900/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/tu-e-tu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4585082024553701900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4585082024553701900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/tu-e-tu.html' title='Tu e Tu *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3926131591738520747</id><published>2011-01-08T22:37:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-01-08T22:40:44.089Z</updated><title type='text'>Palavras que podiam muito bem, ser minhas*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Estamos apaixonados outra vez. Há dois meses. Com mensagens de saudades uma hora depois de nos vermos, coelhos da Páscoa de chocolate partilhados no sofá, maratonas de séries e filmes até de madrugada, passeios de mão dada por todo o lado em que a mão nunca se larga, noites em colherzinha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; ou cadeirinha (qualquer uma das expressões é tão parva e tão boa), planos para Abril, para Maio, para Junho, para o fim do ano. Eu sei que não acreditava em reconciliações. Que disse que há males que nunca se curam por mais que se viva. Que as pessoas não mudam. Que há coisas que se partem e que são impossíveis de voltar a colar e nunca mais ficam as mesmas. Mas agora apetece-me escrever que as relações crescem, como as pessoas e os cabelos. Que afinal nem a maior das desilusões é irrecuperável, se o sentimento continua lá e continua em pé apesar de toda a pancada, e é recíproco. Que é normal ter altos e baixos e desanimar quando o baixo está tão baixo mas tão baixo que parece que nunca mais vai voltar a subir. Que a pessoa que nos fez dizer que estamos fartos de surpresas pode ser a pessoa que nos deixa outra vez com aquela ansiedade idiota na barriga. Que é preciso saber reconquistar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; uma pessoa tanto quanto é preciso saber deixar-se ser reconquistado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. Que estou uma lamechas e uma peganhenta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; outra vez e que se me pedirem conselhos amorosos e me ouvir a mim própria em voz alta vou parecer saída directamente da história da Branca de Neve ou da Pocahontas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;. Mas não me importo. Porque tudo é infinitamente melhor assim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Copiado &lt;a href="http://afastsong.blogspot.com/2010/04/estamos-apaixonados-outra-vez.html"&gt;daqui&lt;/a&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/5437615309460901184-3926131591738520747?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3926131591738520747/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/palavras-que-podiam-muito-bem-ser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3926131591738520747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3926131591738520747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/palavras-que-podiam-muito-bem-ser.html' title='Palavras que podiam muito bem, ser minhas*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-67880677796048688</id><published>2011-01-08T16:56:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-01-08T17:00:26.333Z</updated><title type='text'>Porque vale a pena pensar sobre isto.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; font-size: large;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;ra uma vez, no antigo país das fábulas, uma família em que havia um pai, uma mãe, um avô que era pai do pai e aquela já mencionada criança de oito anos, um rapazinho. Ora sucedia que o avô já tinha muita idade, por isso tremiam-lhe as mãos e deixava cair a comida da boca quando estavam à mesa, o que causava uma grande irritação ao filho e à nora, sempre a dizerem-lhe que tivesse cuidado com o que fazia, mas o pobre velho, por mais que quisesse, não conseguia conter as tremuras, pior ainda se lhe ralhavam, e o resultado era estar sempre a sujar a toalha ou a deixar cair comida ao chão, para já não falar do guardanapo que lhe atavam ao pescoço e que era preciso mudar-lhe três vezes ao dia, ao almoço, ao jantar e à ceia. Estavam as coisas neste pé e sem nenhuma expectativa de melhora quando o filho resolveu acabar com a desagradável situação. Apareceu em casa com uma tigela de madeira e disse ao pai, A partir de hoje passará a comer aqui, senta-se na soleira da porta porque é mais fácil limpar e assim já a sua nora não terá de preocupar-se com tantas toalhas e tantos guardanapos sujos. E assim foi. Almoço, jantar e ceia, o velho sentado sozinho na soleira da porta, levando a comida à boca conforme lhe era possível, metade perdia-se pelo caminho, uma parte da outra metade escorria-lhe pelo queixo abaixo, não era muito que lhe descia finalmente pelo que o vulgo chama o canal da sopa. Ao neto parecia não lhe importar o feio tratamento que estavam a dar ao avô, olhava-o, depois olhava o pai e a mãe, e continuava a comer como se não tivesse nada que ver com o caso. Até que uma tarde, ao regressar do trabalho, o pai viu o filho a trabalhar com uma navalha um pedaço de madeira e julgou que, como era normal e corrente nessas épocas remotas, estivesse a construir um brinquedo por suas próprias mãos. No dia seguinte, porém, deu-se conta de que não se tratava de um carrinho, pelo menos não via sítio onde se lhe pudessem encaixar umas rodas, e então perguntou, Que estás a fazer. O rapaz fingiu que não tinha ouvido e continuou a escavar na madeira com a ponta da navalha, isto passou-se no tempo em que os pais eram menos assustadiços e não corriam a tirar das mãos dos filhos um instrumento de tanta utilidade para a fabricação de brinquedos. Não ouviste, que estás a fazer com esse pau, tornou o pai a perguntar, e o filho, sem levantar a vista da operação, respondeu, Estou a fazer uma tigela para quando o pai for velho e lhe tremerem as mãos, para quando o mandarem comer na soleira da porta, como fizeram com o avô. Foram palavras santas. Caíram as escamas dos olhos do pai, viu a verdade e a sua luz, e no mesmo instante foi pedir perdão ao progenitor e quando chegou a hora da ceia por suas próprias mãos o ajudou a sentar-se na cadeira, por suas próprias mãos lhe levou a colher à boca, por suas próprias mãos lhe limpou suavemente o queixo, porque ainda o podia fazer e o seu querido pai já não.&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; font-size: large;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;As Intermitências da Morte, &lt;b&gt;José Saramago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;Devido à profissão que tenho (é mais do que um simples trabalho, mas um modo de viver a vida), dou de caras com muitos maus tratos familiares, estou diariamente com idosos que sofrem de violência (psicológica e/ou fisica) por parte de outros familiares, quando não é dos próprios filhos e isso corrói-me toda por dentro. Dá-me uma vontade enorme de abanar aquelas cabecinhas e ver se eles se apercebem do quão maldosos conseguem ser às vezes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&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/5437615309460901184-67880677796048688?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/67880677796048688/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/porque-vale-pena-pensar-sobre-isto.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/67880677796048688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/67880677796048688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/porque-vale-pena-pensar-sobre-isto.html' title='Porque vale a pena pensar sobre isto.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8051503366499718505</id><published>2011-01-05T22:06:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-01-05T22:08:02.749Z</updated><title type='text'>T U</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu és "só" o Melhor dos meus dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8051503366499718505?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8051503366499718505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/t-u.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8051503366499718505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8051503366499718505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/t-u.html' title='T U'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6161116159021481723</id><published>2011-01-02T19:11:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-01-02T19:19:51.481Z</updated><title type='text'>*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TSDPH4jphZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/gpJFJ26AQN8/s1600/P1050275%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TSDPH4jphZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/gpJFJ26AQN8/s400/P1050275%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557669674523133330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Life isn´t measured in minutes, but in moments"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6161116159021481723?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6161116159021481723/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6161116159021481723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6161116159021481723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TSDPH4jphZI/AAAAAAAAAR0/gpJFJ26AQN8/s72-c/P1050275%2B-%2BC%25C3%25B3pia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7455905154162372636</id><published>2010-12-31T20:34:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-12-31T20:38:15.410Z</updated><title type='text'>Em 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TR4-aEERvbI/AAAAAAAAARs/gUDiwWWzZPg/s1600/tumblr_le7mg26AMI1qd4tqzo1_500_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TR4-aEERvbI/AAAAAAAAARs/gUDiwWWzZPg/s400/tumblr_le7mg26AMI1qd4tqzo1_500_thumb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556947607710973362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So so true*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7455905154162372636?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7455905154162372636/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/em-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7455905154162372636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7455905154162372636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/em-2011.html' title='Em 2011'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TR4-aEERvbI/AAAAAAAAARs/gUDiwWWzZPg/s72-c/tumblr_le7mg26AMI1qd4tqzo1_500_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7816328377499135980</id><published>2010-12-30T21:24:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-12-30T22:01:24.775Z</updated><title type='text'>2010 foi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sem dúvida melhor (mil milhões de vezes) que 2009, voltei a sorrir por re-encontrar a alegria, a amizade e a verdade. O amor teimou em não desistir de mim e lutou, reconquistou em cima de um cavalo branco (mais propriamente no Citroen Saxo) o meu coração (Obrigado por não desistires!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coloquei de lado as pessoas que simplesmente não mereciam o meu amor e amizade por serem falsas e guardei bem cá dentro os verdadeiros amigos, os verdadeiros momentos e os gestos inesquecíveis.Coloquei de lado a raiva que por momentos me ocupou e as tristezas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Deixei o lar para abarcar uma nova experiência, Coimbra e em termos profissionais a minha vida deu uma volta de 180º. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Decidimos ir viver juntos e aos poucos estamos a organizar a nossa vida e o nosso ninho. Tornar tudo do nosso jeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E sabes, chega o dia em que percebes, com toda a certeza, que mudar a vida toda por amor foi a melhor decisão que tomaste em toda a tua vida. Eu já passei por esse dia e sinceramente não me arrependo de ter colocado a minha teimosia e orgulho de lado e não ter medo de te abraçar novamente, de te deixar entrar aos poucos no meu coração, de me provares que realmente as pessoas podem mudar e nem todos são farinha do mesmo saco. Obrigado por teres estado sempre a meu lado, por me apoiares quando não tenho forças nem para me levantar, por manteres a magia sempre acesa e obrigado acima de tudo, por me tornares numa pessoa feliz. Ninguém é perfeito, eu sei, mas fazes com que os dias a teu lado sejam únicos, e tocam por vezes a perfeição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Quero para 2011 saúde, felicidade e amor para todos. Para mim quero mais noites a teu lado, dormir agarradinha a ti, sentir o teu cheiro e o toque da tua pele. Quero-te não só para 2011, mas para Sempre. O que achas? :$*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7816328377499135980?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7816328377499135980/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/2010-foi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7816328377499135980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7816328377499135980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/2010-foi.html' title='2010 foi'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-9178406292485129704</id><published>2010-12-19T17:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-19T18:01:26.066Z</updated><title type='text'>A magia*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TQ5IXGRS3MI/AAAAAAAAARg/8EpxEIBCEgQ/s1600/c6d6c3ad2bb133c3defa6852e6f453c4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 357px; height: 280px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TQ5IXGRS3MI/AAAAAAAAARg/8EpxEIBCEgQ/s400/c6d6c3ad2bb133c3defa6852e6f453c4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552454952251743426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Chegou *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-9178406292485129704?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/9178406292485129704/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/magia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/9178406292485129704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/9178406292485129704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/magia.html' title='A magia*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TQ5IXGRS3MI/AAAAAAAAARg/8EpxEIBCEgQ/s72-c/c6d6c3ad2bb133c3defa6852e6f453c4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4148142290926320062</id><published>2010-12-14T17:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-12-14T17:30:01.804Z</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria um pouco de magia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4148142290926320062?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4148142290926320062/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/today.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4148142290926320062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4148142290926320062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5474047035528203406</id><published>2010-12-02T17:36:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-12-02T17:46:15.553Z</updated><title type='text'>Sabes que Ele é o amor da tua vida quando...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TPfbG_d9KTI/AAAAAAAAARY/df1D7OywOtY/s1600/tumblr_lavg2qo5s21qar5keo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 350px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TPfbG_d9KTI/AAAAAAAAARY/df1D7OywOtY/s400/tumblr_lavg2qo5s21qar5keo1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546142379292830002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Quando ele se reinventa todos os dias para te ver feliz, nos mais pequenos detalhes, nos silêncios que dizem tanto e na força de um olhar que não te deixa margem para dúvidas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5474047035528203406?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5474047035528203406/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/sabes-que-ele-e-o-amor-da-rua-vida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5474047035528203406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5474047035528203406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/sabes-que-ele-e-o-amor-da-rua-vida.html' title='Sabes que Ele é o amor da tua vida quando...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TPfbG_d9KTI/AAAAAAAAARY/df1D7OywOtY/s72-c/tumblr_lavg2qo5s21qar5keo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-785362934505022266</id><published>2010-12-02T14:37:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-02T14:38:49.908Z</updated><title type='text'>81-year-old sweethearts reunite after 62 years</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qIb4xQGUToU?fs=1" frameborder="0" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The cutest thing ever * You better believe it - L o v e *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-785362934505022266?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/785362934505022266/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/81-year-old-sweethearts-reunite-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/785362934505022266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/785362934505022266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/12/81-year-old-sweethearts-reunite-after.html' title='81-year-old sweethearts reunite after 62 years'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/qIb4xQGUToU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-144854239422305360</id><published>2010-11-15T23:46:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-11-16T00:00:22.030Z</updated><title type='text'>Oh my Mr. Blue. *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Eu lembro-me, como se fosse hoje, de como "tudo" começou, de todos os pormenores da nossa história de amor. Guardo na minha caixinha as pequenas lembranças que vou tirando dos nossos momentos, as cartas que me escreves, fotos nossas, guardo no coração cada palavra que me dizes, cada momento em que reflectimos juntos e chegamos a mais uma conclusão, cada momento em que estabelecemos mais um objectivo a cumprir. Guardo no coração o teu cheiro, o nosso cheiro, os teus abraços mais do que perfeitos e os teus doces beijos suaves nos ombros, nos lábios, nas mãos. Trago-te no coração mesmo quando nos chateamos por coisas banais, ou por tragédias passadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Aqui estou em Coimbra, a tentar atingir outro patamar profissional e sinto-me sozinha, incompleta, porque não posso dormir a teu lado, acordar com o teu abraço e com os teus mimos. Aqui estou em Coimbra e a desejar estar na nossa cama, na nossa casa provisória, a viver-te, a amar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TOHJIrLYi3I/AAAAAAAAARQ/CFzHH8r0d5k/s1600/Untitled-1d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TOHJIrLYi3I/AAAAAAAAARQ/CFzHH8r0d5k/s400/Untitled-1d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539930167509027698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;When I'm with you, nothing else matters. I won't give up on you, not ever! *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-144854239422305360?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/144854239422305360/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/11/oh-my-mr-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/144854239422305360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/144854239422305360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/11/oh-my-mr-blue.html' title='Oh my Mr. Blue. *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TOHJIrLYi3I/AAAAAAAAARQ/CFzHH8r0d5k/s72-c/Untitled-1d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8607782146897063414</id><published>2010-11-01T13:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-11-01T13:43:28.693Z</updated><title type='text'>Ele III</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;És tudo, mais do que tudo até... És a minha vida em qualquer lugar do mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Obrigado por esta noite perfeita (L)*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8607782146897063414?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8607782146897063414/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/11/ele-iii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8607782146897063414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8607782146897063414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/11/ele-iii.html' title='Ele III'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3533913665103248497</id><published>2010-10-31T00:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T00:09:17.059+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ele II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TMylOdDrmvI/AAAAAAAAARI/roAZAhhnZH0/s1600/P1040651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 366px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TMylOdDrmvI/AAAAAAAAARI/roAZAhhnZH0/s400/P1040651.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533979709868317426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Porque de dia para dia, o sentimento é ainda maior, mais forte e mais coeso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O amor da minha vida *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3533913665103248497?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3533913665103248497/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/ele-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3533913665103248497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3533913665103248497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/ele-ii.html' title='Ele II'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TMylOdDrmvI/AAAAAAAAARI/roAZAhhnZH0/s72-c/P1040651.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6627765264296048198</id><published>2010-10-30T12:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T12:59:43.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coimbra II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Se não tivesse que ir cuidar dos meus trinta utentes "frescos e fofinhos" como diz a Ana, hoje era menina de sobreviver à base de um cházinho saboroso, enroscada na mantinha nova do IKEA a ler o belo de um bom livro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hoje era menina para isso e muito mais. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6627765264296048198?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6627765264296048198/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/coimbra-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6627765264296048198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6627765264296048198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/coimbra-ii.html' title='Coimbra II'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-782895294950238438</id><published>2010-10-25T22:59:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T23:20:23.429+01:00</updated><title type='text'>We will be friends for ever? 8)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Estou cansada de falsos amigos, de falsas ajudas, de falsos momentos de partilha momentânea. Estou cansada de ver pessoas a tratarem-se como "amor", "best friend", "sister", etc., (cujo objectivo dessa manifestação seria perpetuar o carinho que temos por essa pessoa, distingui-la no meio de tantas pessoas que nos rodeiam, e que nos são mais ou menos importantes) mostrando-se sempre com altos sorrisos, prontas para as "bebedeiras" e restantes programas, prontas para tudo (e nunca lá estão para nada). Estou cansada de ver cinismo, falsidade, "amigos das xibas", MENTIRAS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Isto é algo que mexe muito comigo, não só por ter passado por situações semelhantes às que descrevi anteriormente, mas porque a Amizade significa tudo para mim, é a base de todas as relações humanas, é a base do Amor, dos vários tipos de Amor. Dói-me ver pessoas a tratarem-se como melhores amigos e basta uma das partes virar costas que desatam logo no "corte e na costura", dizem mal da pessoa (sem se quer a deixar manifestar-se), criticam, estão-se bem a "c*gar" para os problemas dela e isso é visível nas verdadeiras situações em que a presença dos verdadeiros amigos não deveria de ser uma imposição, mas já fazer parte integrante do protocolo da Verdadeira Amizade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sinto mesmo que a maioria das "grandes amizades" que tenho visto, baseiam-se no facto de que há uns anos as pessoas andavam sempre juntas, pareciam duas metades que se completavam, e com os anos, acho que foram descobrindo que cada vez mais não tinham absolutamente nada em comum (ou tinham e têm - o que pode ser um mau sinal da nossa personalidade) e só continuaram amigas/amigos porque isso dá uma sensação de intemporalidade, que é tão grata às amizades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Para mim a amizade significa tudo, e isso também implica tudo, até mesmo saber dizer que "não" ou perder algumas party night's para limpar as lágrimas à minha melhor amiga, abraça-la sem cometer juizos de valor, dizer a verdade, mesmo quando esta é difícil de ouvir; estar para os "meus" sempre, independentemente da hora, momento ou ocasião.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São mesmo raras este tipo de amizades, e por essa razão eu guardo-as muito bem cá dentro &lt;3*&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-782895294950238438?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/782895294950238438/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/we-will-be-friends-for-ever-8.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/782895294950238438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/782895294950238438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/we-will-be-friends-for-ever-8.html' title='We will be friends for ever? 8)'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3407889784066680055</id><published>2010-10-20T00:09:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T00:11:44.243+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TL4lmQz9hyI/AAAAAAAAARA/qo7IV9Q6N9k/s1600/tumblr_l4xjdicqBQ1qziyd9o1_500.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 363px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TL4lmQz9hyI/AAAAAAAAARA/qo7IV9Q6N9k/s400/tumblr_l4xjdicqBQ1qziyd9o1_500.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529898731735713570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3407889784066680055?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3407889784066680055/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3407889784066680055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3407889784066680055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post_20.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TL4lmQz9hyI/AAAAAAAAARA/qo7IV9Q6N9k/s72-c/tumblr_l4xjdicqBQ1qziyd9o1_500.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7869779189851793151</id><published>2010-10-19T18:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T18:09:12.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coimbra I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A saudade dá cabo da minha alma. Dá vontade de ´largar´o emprego e correr em busca do Meu Amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Espero que o dia de amanhã passe a voar, porque já não dá para aguentar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7869779189851793151?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7869779189851793151/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/coimbra-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7869779189851793151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7869779189851793151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/coimbra-i.html' title='Coimbra I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4952574781134643407</id><published>2010-10-16T19:56:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T19:57:46.322+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TLn1gzofL-I/AAAAAAAAAQw/H4YKe-UzwVk/s1600/amor+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TLn1gzofL-I/AAAAAAAAAQw/H4YKe-UzwVk/s400/amor+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528719961538637794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4952574781134643407?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4952574781134643407/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4952574781134643407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4952574781134643407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TLn1gzofL-I/AAAAAAAAAQw/H4YKe-UzwVk/s72-c/amor+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3206670939983825144</id><published>2010-10-15T15:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T15:06:09.800+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Elogio ao amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Há coisas que não são para se perceberem. Esta é uma delas. Tenho uma coisa para dizer e não sei como hei-de dizê-la. Muito do que se segue pode ser, por isso, incompreensível.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A culpa é minha. O que for incompreensível não é mesmo para se perceber. Não é por falta de clareza. Serei muito claro. Eu próprio percebo pouco do que tenho para dizer. Mas tenho de dizê-lo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O que quero é fazer o elogio do amor puro.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Parece-me que já ninguém se apaixona de verdade.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Já ninguém quer viver um amor impossível. Já ninguém aceita amar sem uma razão.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje as pessoas apaixonam-se por uma questão de prática. Porque dá jeito. Porque são colegas e estão ali mesmo ao lado. Porque se dão bem e não se chateiam muito. Porque faz sentido. Porque é mais barato, por causa da casa. Por causa da cama. Por causa das cuecas e das calças e das contas da lavandaria.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hoje em dia as pessoas fazem contratos pré-nupciais, discutem tudo de antemão, fazem planos e à mínima merdinha entram logo em "diálogo".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor passou a ser passível de ser combinado. Os amantes tornaram-se sócios. Reúnem-se, discutem problemas, tomam decisões.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor transformou-se numa variante psico-sócio-bio-ecológica de camaradagem. A paixão, que devia ser desmedida, é na medida do possível. O amor tornou-se uma questão prática. O resultado é que as pessoas, em vez de se apaixonarem de verdade, ficam "praticamente" apaixonadas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu quero fazer o elogio do amor puro, do amor cego, do amor estúpido, do amor doente, do único amor verdadeiro que há, estou farto de conversas, farto de compreensões, farto de conveniências de serviço.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nunca vi namorados tão embrutecidos, tão cobardes e tão comodistas como os de hoje. Incapazes de um gesto largo, de correr um risco, de um rasgo de ousadia, são uma raça de telefoneiros e capangas de cantina, malta do "tá bem, tudo bem", tomadores de bicas, alcançadores de compromissos, bananóides, borra-botas, matadores do romance, romanticidas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Já ninguém se apaixona? Já ninguém aceita a paixão pura, a saudade sem fim, a tristeza, o desequilíbrio, o medo, o custo, o amor, a doença que é como um cancro a comer-nos o coração e que nos canta no peito ao mesmo tempo?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor é uma coisa, a vida é outra. O amor não é para ser uma ajudinha. Não é para ser o alívio, o repouso, o intervalo, a pancadinha nas costas, a pausa que refresca, o pronto-socorro da tortuosa estrada da vida, o nosso "dá lá um jeitinho sentimental".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Odeio esta mania contemporânea por sopas e descanso. Odeio os novos casalinhos. Para onde quer que se olhe, já não se vê romance, gritaria, maluquice, facada, abraços, flores. O amor fechou a loja. Foi trespassada ao pessoal da pantufa e da serenidade.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amor é amor. É essa beleza. É esse perigo. O nosso amor não é para nos compreender, não é para nos ajudar, não é para nos fazer felizes. Tanto pode como não pode. Tanto faz. É uma questão de azar. O nosso amor não é para nos amar, para nos levar de repente ao céu, a tempo ainda de apanhar um bocadinho de inferno aberto.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor é uma coisa, a vida é outra. A vida às vezes mata o amor. A "vidinha" é uma convivência assassina.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor puro não é um meio, não é um fim, não é um princípio, não é um destino. O amor puro é uma condição. Tem tanto a ver com a vida de cada um como o clima.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor não se percebe. Não é para perceber. O amor é um estado de quem se sente. O amor é a nossa alma. É a nossa alma a desatar. A desatar a correr atrás do que não sabe, não apanha, não larga, não compreende.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor é uma verdade. É por isso que a ilusão é necessária. A ilusão é bonita, não faz mal. Que se invente e minta e sonhe o que quiser.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor é uma coisa, a vida é outra. A realidade pode matar, o amor é mais bonito que a vida. A vida que se lixe. Num momento, num olhar, o coração apanha-se para sempre. Ama-se alguém.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por muito longe, por muito difícil, por muito desesperadamente. O coração guarda o que se nos escapa das mãos. E durante o dia e durante a vida, quando não esta lá quem se ama, não é ela que nos acompanha - é o nosso amor, o amor que se lhe tem.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não é para perceber. É sinal de amor puro não se perceber, amar e não se ter, querer e não guardar a esperança, doer sem ficar magoado, viver sozinho, triste, mas mais acompanhado do que quem vive feliz. Não se pode ceder. Não se pode resistir.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A vida é uma coisa, o amor é outra. A vida dura a Vida inteira, o amor não. Só um mundo de amor pode durar a vida inteira. E valê-la também."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Miguel Esteves Cardoso&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/5437615309460901184-3206670939983825144?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3206670939983825144/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/elogio-ao-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3206670939983825144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3206670939983825144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/elogio-ao-amor.html' title='Elogio ao amor'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5955628409899810540</id><published>2010-10-10T16:54:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T16:55:29.144+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Together we share the wonder of human existance and let there be no doubt that all of us are brothers. There can be no beginning or ending that does not in some way touch another, for our actions affect the lives and destinies of many. You must each decide what your life will be. You must always know that a hand extended to your fellow man is a gesture of love - love that asks nothing, expects nothing. It is simply there. And if love is in you, then gentle will be all your steps as you walk beyond this valley."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;—                                                                                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5955628409899810540?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5955628409899810540/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/together-we-share-wonder-of-human.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5955628409899810540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5955628409899810540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/together-we-share-wonder-of-human.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5783183001459283442</id><published>2010-10-05T22:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T22:07:15.257+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Casava-me hoje contigo :$*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5783183001459283442?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5783183001459283442/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/casava-me-hoje-contigo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5783183001459283442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5783183001459283442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/casava-me-hoje-contigo.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2541827831851211798</id><published>2010-10-03T23:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T23:21:49.520+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma vida a dois - I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Os mais antigos dizem que "quem não arrisca, não petisca", os mais novos concordam com essa noção de aventura e dizem que "a vida é feita de um apanhado de decisões, que mudam em segundos o rumo que vamos seguir", Confirmo! Esta semana foi a prova de tal sabedoria, sem dúvida que foi recheada de verdadeiras e difíceis (mas extremamente prazenteiras) decisões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Num abrir e fechar de olhos disse adeus a um passado (tão recente), mudei de emprego e vou mudar de casa, encontrar um novo lar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Eu abarquei esta nova fase de esperança de braços abertos e ele acolheu-me a mim, começar finalmente a nossa vida a dois (neste caso a três), ter-te sempre a meu lado, sentir-te e respirar-te junto à minha almofada, mimar-te e sussurrar-te os nossos segredos, continuar a fazer projectos (que estão cada vez mais próximos da realidade) para o futuro... Obrigado por tudo, pelo apoio incondicional e por me fazeres sentir tão completa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hoje fecho os olhos e, sem dúvida, que estou numa das fases mais felizes da minha vida, a estabilidade bateu-nos à porta e o amor, esse está sempre a meu lado. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2541827831851211798?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2541827831851211798/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/uma-vida-dois-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2541827831851211798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2541827831851211798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/10/uma-vida-dois-i.html' title='Uma vida a dois - I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7955978041533713124</id><published>2010-09-28T21:57:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T21:58:15.828+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TKJW2JHjPTI/AAAAAAAAAQo/VFeT--gW_vc/s1600/tumblr_l8phnwn9vl1qanp6do1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 374px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TKJW2JHjPTI/AAAAAAAAAQo/VFeT--gW_vc/s400/tumblr_l8phnwn9vl1qanp6do1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522071581270162738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7955978041533713124?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7955978041533713124/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7955978041533713124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7955978041533713124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post_28.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TKJW2JHjPTI/AAAAAAAAAQo/VFeT--gW_vc/s72-c/tumblr_l8phnwn9vl1qanp6do1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8238148733609351593</id><published>2010-09-15T09:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T10:27:57.059+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple as that. III</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I was talking about love.&lt;br /&gt;I'm always talking about love, because love is everything. *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is all I need *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8238148733609351593?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8238148733609351593/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that-iii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8238148733609351593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8238148733609351593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that-iii.html' title='Simple as that. III'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5148008375455641099</id><published>2010-09-13T13:09:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T13:11:48.529+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple as that. II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TI4UswdosGI/AAAAAAAAAQg/w3eWiXz83rg/s1600/tumblr_l85e2gQjPM1qbnk2jo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TI4UswdosGI/AAAAAAAAAQg/w3eWiXz83rg/s400/tumblr_l85e2gQjPM1qbnk2jo1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516369352731439202" 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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your love is my shell *&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5148008375455641099?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5148008375455641099/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5148008375455641099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5148008375455641099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that-ii.html' title='Simple as that. II'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TI4UswdosGI/AAAAAAAAAQg/w3eWiXz83rg/s72-c/tumblr_l85e2gQjPM1qbnk2jo1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2492161683329866508</id><published>2010-09-12T23:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T23:54:39.120+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pearl Jam - Just Breathe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Mais do que dedicada a ti*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object style="background-image: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/XTb9GNIxpMk/hqdefault.jpg);" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XTb9GNIxpMk?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XTb9GNIxpMk?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2492161683329866508?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2492161683329866508/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/pearl-jam-just-breathe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2492161683329866508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2492161683329866508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/pearl-jam-just-breathe.html' title='Pearl Jam - Just Breathe'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4978544220405983874</id><published>2010-09-09T22:04:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T22:04:46.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ele</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ele deixou de escrever e eu já tenho saudades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4978544220405983874?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4978544220405983874/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/ele.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4978544220405983874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4978544220405983874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/ele.html' title='Ele'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6635304351683980948</id><published>2010-09-08T21:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T21:09:50.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple as that.</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify; font-weight: normal;" class="quote"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yes or no. In or out. Up or down. Live or die. Hero or coward. Fight or give in. I’ll say it again to make sure you hear me. The human life is made up of choices. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Live or die&lt;/span&gt;. That’s the important choice. And it’s not always in our hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6635304351683980948?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6635304351683980948/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6635304351683980948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6635304351683980948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/simple-as-that.html' title='Simple as that.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2677314556787677635</id><published>2010-09-07T20:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T20:46:17.886+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectativas? Não... Certezas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Os dias, como os de hoje, são sempre cansativos, desgastantes. O trabalho vai correndo lentamente e a vontade de chegar às 20h torna-se cada vez mais intensa. Olha-se uma vez para o relógio, sinto mesmo que sigo o tic-tac de cada segundo, qual marca-passo qual quê, até o coração acompanha o ritmo, surge logo uma bradicardia que não é revertida com fármacos...Mas de repente surge no pensamento a ideia mais fixa do dia, mais insistentemente desejada e as horas passam mais depressa, as borboletas surgem na baguiga e os meus dedos tocam em ti, alcançam-te no pensamento e agarro-te por um beijo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A certeza de mais uma noite a teu lado, era boa, mas a realidade é facilmente superada. Chegou o melhor do meu dia* Quando nos deitamos, no nosso ritual tão único e próprio, eu retiro o relógio e desejo de ouvir o Tic-Tac, basicamente peço ao tempo para fazer uma sesta e me deixar aproveitar-te, sonhar contigo (não só acordada) literalmente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa é a certeza, isto foi o melhor do meu dia e a força para enfrentar o que o amanhã me espera. As pessoas apenas têm a importância que nós lhe damos e sim, tu és o mais importante*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2677314556787677635?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2677314556787677635/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/expectativas-nao-certezas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2677314556787677635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2677314556787677635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/expectativas-nao-certezas.html' title='Expectativas? Não... Certezas.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6026217470183174282</id><published>2010-09-05T22:20:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T22:42:20.399+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mimos inesquecivéis I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Vou ser, como sempre fui, sincera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ás vezes surge aquela angústia, o receio e o desejo de te ter a meu lado para me afastares os fantasmas que teimam em constantemente nos assombrar. Ás vezes, a tristeza é demasiad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;o grande, por todas as razões que conheces, e leva-me a dar um mergulho bem profundo (cá dentro).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIQN0BBzpsI/AAAAAAAAAQY/1SiTcUTVsuM/s1600/P1040467+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 149px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIQN0BBzpsI/AAAAAAAAAQY/1SiTcUTVsuM/s320/P1040467+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513547031088703170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Nem tudo é bom, eu sei, nem tudo (excepto tu) transborda magia. E por vezes, como sabes, desanimo. Mas depois, recebo um mimo especial, assim do nada e rejuvenesço, fico logo pronta para a "luta", pois desistir não faz parte do meu vocabulário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;"Não te esqueças nunca que o meu mundo, és tu :)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; Veio assim do nada e acabou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; por ficar para sempre :$&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Porque são os &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pormenores&lt;/span&gt; amor, porque és não sempre, mas para sempre a minha &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;metade&lt;/span&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/5437615309460901184-6026217470183174282?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6026217470183174282/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/mimos-inesqueciveis-i.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6026217470183174282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6026217470183174282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/mimos-inesqueciveis-i.html' title='Mimos inesquecivéis I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIQN0BBzpsI/AAAAAAAAAQY/1SiTcUTVsuM/s72-c/P1040467+-+C%C3%B3pia.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7575792587536808304</id><published>2010-09-05T15:33:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T15:35:16.148+01:00</updated><title type='text'>*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIOqSMHqagI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/vG9EJEfBtRc/s1600/1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIOqSMHqagI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/vG9EJEfBtRc/s400/1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513437598299351554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Porque, realmente, ainda existem principes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7575792587536808304?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7575792587536808304/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7575792587536808304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7575792587536808304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title='*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TIOqSMHqagI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/vG9EJEfBtRc/s72-c/1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1947729700156982681</id><published>2010-09-05T02:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T02:24:03.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruno I</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"Não importa o que temos, mas sim o que somos".&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Se uma criança de 6 anos chega a esta conclusão, então isso já diz muita coisa de muita gente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1947729700156982681?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1947729700156982681/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/bruno-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1947729700156982681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1947729700156982681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/bruno-i.html' title='Bruno I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7748661653398610812</id><published>2010-09-01T23:51:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T23:52:53.958+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Kutxi Kutxi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7ZGQD-o6I/AAAAAAAAAQI/zYnXxXF0W_A/s1600/000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7ZGQD-o6I/AAAAAAAAAQI/zYnXxXF0W_A/s400/000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512081695362163618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7748661653398610812?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7748661653398610812/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/kutxi-kutxi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7748661653398610812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7748661653398610812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/kutxi-kutxi.html' title='Kutxi Kutxi'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7ZGQD-o6I/AAAAAAAAAQI/zYnXxXF0W_A/s72-c/000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1334201726660882424</id><published>2010-09-01T22:55:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T23:05:26.664+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friends*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7MCnlXg2I/AAAAAAAAAQA/hF9e8nLZcF0/s1600/25781_114633618561150_100000435374036_180503_8308918_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7MCnlXg2I/AAAAAAAAAQA/hF9e8nLZcF0/s400/25781_114633618561150_100000435374036_180503_8308918_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512067339305583458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A amizade é mesmo, de mãos dadas com o amor, as melhores coisas do mundo. Esta última hora contigo e com ele, os meus dois melhores amigos, os meus dois amores, fizeram-me sentir tão bem, mas tão bem, senti-me em harmonia por poder matar as saudades da minha M. e por o meu N. estar lá a partilhar aquele momento, em que falamos de tudo, mas não dissemos nada (pelo menos nada de jeito).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;É sem dúvida, como se a última vez que nos vimos ou nos falado tivesse sido ontem, ou há  5 minutos atrás, porque nada muda, a amizade continua tão pura, tão sem interesses, genuína tal como só tu consegues ser. Eu considero estas coisas fantásticas, porque com tudo o que se passou na minha vida até hoje, eu aprendi a saber distinguir AO LONGE as boas pessoas daquelas que não vale a pena sequer falarmos, os Grande amigos, dos Bons amigos e dos meros Conhecidos. E este processo de crescimento só foi desenvolvido e até aperfeiçoado graças às grandes quedas que eu fui dando, ao facto de eu nunca ter desistido e erguer sempre a cabeça, mesmo quando não é fácil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Obrigado meus pequerruchos*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1334201726660882424?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1334201726660882424/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/best-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1334201726660882424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1334201726660882424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/best-friends.html' title='Best Friends*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH7MCnlXg2I/AAAAAAAAAQA/hF9e8nLZcF0/s72-c/25781_114633618561150_100000435374036_180503_8308918_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-6103023589505334835</id><published>2010-09-01T13:47:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T13:56:15.077+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;São os abraços desmedidos, as pequenas (grandes) surpresas que me fazes, os pequenos sacrifícios para ver um filme lamechas ou para ir comigo às compras, ou aquelas duas horas a torrar ao sol. São as flores assim do nada, aquelas rosas vermelhas, os mini-coopers para a minha colecção. São os beijinhos no pescoço, o nanar agarradinho a mim, como se estivéssemos colados, é a tua mão na minha, como se fosse o último dia. São os pedidos para nanarmos juntos, para fazermos tudo juntos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;É o céu, a lua, o sol e o mar. São as gomas e as palavras que me dedicas, que me citas baixinho, junto ao ouvido... É quando me vendas os olhos, recitas poemas da tua autoria e me entregas cartas com cheirinho. São aqueles lembretes no telemóvel (mimos via tecnologia) ou aquelas mensagens que me deixam tão, mas tão derretida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;É por tudo e é por nada, que eu te amo, que eu sempre te amei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E prometo-te que se realmente só restassem 5 meses, eles seriam mágicos e depois eu desaparecia, assim entre as estrelinha, contigo, porque eu nunca te vou deixar :) *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-6103023589505334835?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/6103023589505334835/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/sao-os-abracos-desmedidos-as-pequenas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6103023589505334835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/6103023589505334835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/sao-os-abracos-desmedidos-as-pequenas.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2538704650628159227</id><published>2010-09-01T00:00:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T00:02:20.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'>ADENDA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;As coisas que mais valorizo, são aqueles pequeninos pormenores. Tornam-se sempre os mais importantes e eternos de se recordar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2538704650628159227?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2538704650628159227/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/adenda.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2538704650628159227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2538704650628159227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/09/adenda.html' title='ADENDA'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3839173290634827339</id><published>2010-08-31T23:44:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T23:56:41.929+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu *</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;É bom (muito bom mesmo) ter-te por perto *meu bem*, porque és o meu ponto de equilibrio, a estabilidade (nesta vida mais do que instável), tens o super poder, a magia, de afastar nem que seja por minutos, todos os problemas que me vão consumindo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sei que tu (e principalmente eu) procuras um pouco da Bá de há uns tempos, mas dá-lhe tempo, inspira um pouco de paciência e compreensão e dá-me um abraço, um xi daqueles só nossos, provoca-me aquele arrepiozinho, faz-me sonhar, que ela aparece num instante.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hoje durmo contigo no meu peito, guardo o teu perfume na minha almofada, respiro a tua pele e deixo-me levar pela tua voz a contar-me uma história, envolta nos teus braços. Hoje durmo agarradinha ao meu amor, nem que seja em sonhos.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH2IWxtwGdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/qr2kci0kGss/s1600/P1040438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH2IWxtwGdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/qr2kci0kGss/s400/P1040438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511711443855088082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3839173290634827339?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3839173290634827339/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/tu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3839173290634827339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3839173290634827339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/tu.html' title='Tu *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TH2IWxtwGdI/AAAAAAAAAPw/qr2kci0kGss/s72-c/P1040438.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-1051841103211086898</id><published>2010-08-29T23:27:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T23:36:48.114+01:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Os entendidos (e não só) dizem que uma &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;imagem&lt;/span&gt; vale mais do que mil palavras. Mas será assim uma certeza tão adquirida? Eu, sinceramente, acho que uma imagem não consegue transmitir nem um décimo do momento que ela representa, pode ser importante para se criar certos juízos de valor ou algumas ideias predefinidas, são (sem dúvida) importantes para registar momentos que provavelmente serão relembrados no futuro (ou então não, porque falo contra mim própria, mas com esta história das máquinas digitais, acho que tiramos foto a tudo e a todos, acabando por desvalorizar certos momentos que deveriam ser para sempre enaltecidos), as imagens são utilizadas para mil e um fins hoje em dia, mas mesmo assim acho que uma imagem não vale mais do que mil palavras, acho que a imagem não transmite toda a essência do momento e acho que em tempos valorizei (demasiado) certas imagens, optando por não olhar para o backstage e apenas para a tela e isso bastava-me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Hoje não. Hoje sei que, se viajasse no passado teria mais cuidado ao generalizar algo sem saber a essência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-1051841103211086898?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/1051841103211086898/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post_29.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1051841103211086898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/1051841103211086898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post_29.html' title='...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2121030059591171692</id><published>2010-08-26T00:02:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T00:19:48.576+01:00</updated><title type='text'>1 ano - 365 dias, muitas horas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/THWkbGjliQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/4jYqIw2F3Z0/s1600/P1040244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/THWkbGjliQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/4jYqIw2F3Z0/s400/P1040244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509490504680966402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu valorizo o tempo, valorizo fundamentalmente a falta de tempo, custa-me ver o tempo a voar e por isso é que só olho para os ponteiros do meu *fofo* relógio só e apenas quando é exclusivamente necessário (maioritariamente quando estou a trabalhar). E por ver o tempo a voar, tão rápido que mais parece que um dia tem apenas 12 horas, eu valorizo cada instante, cada momento, cada sensação e cada sentimento, atribuo aos dias um significado especial, gosto de celebrar certas datas e relembrar outras só quando o faço inconscientemente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A data de hoje é muito subjectiva, por um lado relembra-me o inicio de uma fase muito má (que já passou) da minha vida e por outro lado, foi o catalisador principal para a vida que eu tenho hoje (*perfeita* - só acrescentava mesmo era um emprego decente) e que dou muito valor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje marca o dia em que a verdade tornou a ser a chave, porque já não há mais espaço para as mentiras, os "metros cúbicos" que o meu pequeno coração tem, já não resistem a mais mentiras, traições, etc. Agora só aceita é tudo de bom, coisas mágicas (tu*), coisas muito boas e doces (tu e as gomas), só aceita a felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vivo no meu mundo, que não é pintado a preto e branco, repleto de sombras a encobrir passados, pelo contrário, o meu mundo é pintado com todas as cores que pertencem ao arco-íris e mesmo assim tornam-se poucas para retratar na perfeição, para capturar a essência de cada momento. Eu quero pintar, a minha vida, com todas as cores, sempre e para sempre a teu lado*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2121030059591171692?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2121030059591171692/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/1-ano-365-dias-muitas-horas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2121030059591171692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2121030059591171692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/1-ano-365-dias-muitas-horas.html' title='1 ano - 365 dias, muitas horas.'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/THWkbGjliQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/4jYqIw2F3Z0/s72-c/P1040244.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3802206313125055198</id><published>2010-08-18T16:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T16:10:08.142+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desabafo de uma enfermeira I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;O tempo passa... Os ponteiros do relógio dão voltas e voltas e nada aparece, a solução não aparece. Estou cansada disto. Anseio, ou melhor, desejo mesmo muito, alguma estabilidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3802206313125055198?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3802206313125055198/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/desabafo-de-uma-enfermeira-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3802206313125055198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3802206313125055198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/desabafo-de-uma-enfermeira-i.html' title='Desabafo de uma enfermeira I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3517310522712985816</id><published>2010-08-15T22:45:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T22:46:12.887+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGhgG2wjoiI/AAAAAAAAAPg/DihtU2nRzW8/s1600/jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGhgG2wjoiI/AAAAAAAAAPg/DihtU2nRzW8/s400/jpg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505756215355089442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3517310522712985816?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3517310522712985816/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3517310522712985816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3517310522712985816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGhgG2wjoiI/AAAAAAAAAPg/DihtU2nRzW8/s72-c/jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7162879585128645384</id><published>2010-08-12T23:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T23:31:56.952+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is a war</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;O Amor sente-se assim, de repente, cultiva-se para ele crescer, vamos regando com palavras e gestos sinceros, carinhos desmedidos e entrega imediata e total. Ter uma licenciatura na arte de amar já é dificil, porque algo tão complexo é difícil de ser explicito pelos mais leigos, pelos mais sábios. Mas sinto que há quem já se arrisque na aventura do mestrado, querer ir mais do que o simples amar, do que o simples amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Amar alguém, meus amigos, é a garantia (que pode variar entre momentos esporádicos, ao longo internamento, ou até ao acompanhamento final) mais pura que algum dia poderemos vir a ter e a sentir. É a felicidade e tristeza de mãos dadas. É a unicidade.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7162879585128645384?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7162879585128645384/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/love-is-war.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7162879585128645384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7162879585128645384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/love-is-war.html' title='Love is a war'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7064905496972398071</id><published>2010-08-12T23:15:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T23:21:58.689+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Faça chuva ou faça sol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGRz_XifE6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/62WSoGau6v0/s1600/03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGRz_XifE6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/62WSoGau6v0/s400/03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504652177041200034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Eu estou aqui para ti e sinceramente, eu estou aqui Por ti. Tem sido difícil estes últimos dias, este último mês, este último ano... Tem sido difícil por causa do trabalho (das pobres condições deste) e por falta de descanso, eu sei. Tem sido difícil para mim, mas principalmente para ti, porque sinto-te e sei o que aí vai dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Eu estou aqui por ti, eu faço tudo porque te tenho como força interior, como o meu fuel especial e não suporto pensar ser de outra maneira, porque tu, tu és o amor da minha vida, e falo disto com a maior certeza do mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Eu recompenso-te* E desculpa estes dias menos bons, supostamente é a luta por algo maior (é o que eu espero), mas nada te ultrapassa. És a cor, és a magia*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7064905496972398071?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7064905496972398071/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/faca-chuva-ou-faca-sol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7064905496972398071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7064905496972398071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/08/faca-chuva-ou-faca-sol.html' title='Faça chuva ou faça sol'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TGRz_XifE6I/AAAAAAAAAPY/62WSoGau6v0/s72-c/03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2458932074023005334</id><published>2010-07-20T22:41:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T22:49:26.548+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desespero II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Desistir das coisas é de longe a minha teoria de vida, a minha forma de encarar as circunstâncias boas e más, mas existem momentos, segundos, minutos, horas, que são de tal forma arrebatadoras negativamente que me deixam de rastos (psicologicamente claro) e sim, nesses momentos apetece-me desistir, perder a cabeça e deixar-me levar por aquilo que eu realmente quero e não ter medo do que certas pessoas pensam (só ligo à opinião das pessoas que mais amo e admiro), do que certas palavras e gestos meus possam vir a afectar o "meu" meio mundo, a vida tal como eu a conheço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Às vezes é o medo de perder alguém que realmente gostamos que nos faz calar, reprimir o que vai cá dentro e chorar (q.b). E quando não existir mais lágrimas? Mais força pelo simples facto de sobreviver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Eu quero que chegue a hora, de ter o mundo à minha maneira, de chegar o momento e eu soltar as amarras e passar a viver a 150%. Eu quero.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2458932074023005334?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2458932074023005334/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/desespero-ii.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2458932074023005334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2458932074023005334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/desespero-ii.html' title='Desespero II'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-482230360119307444</id><published>2010-07-18T13:00:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T13:05:34.906+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Little things*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;É a forma como capturamos a essência de um momento, de alguns instantes, que ficam para sempre gravados pela forma como são vistos e vividos. são estes instantes que me fazem crer que a vida é bela, que prefiro uma vida cheia de cores, cheia de pormenores, a uma vida a preto e branco, sem cor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Recordo-te a todo o momento, por tudo, mas essencialmente pelos pormenores. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-482230360119307444?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/482230360119307444/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/little-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/482230360119307444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/482230360119307444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/little-things.html' title='Little things*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-7774448172250395566</id><published>2010-07-16T18:44:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T19:01:37.597+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A minha vida neste momento é, exactamente, aquilo que eu sempre quis. Sim existem aqueles pormenores (técnicos), alguns até lhes chamam de "mariquices", que seria sempre bom sermos nós a escolher em vez do habitual destino, só para aprimorar ainda mais o dia-a-dia, mas eu sou apologista da aventura, do desconhecido, e por isso que venham, que venham lá as tempestades, os trovões, que venha a chuva e  o granizo, eu ultrapasso tudo só e apenas com a magia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dou valor a tudo o que me rodeia, tanto o bom como o mau. O bom esforço-me por tê-lo perto de mim, o mau que chegue para lá que eu já não tenho paciência para essas coisas, tal como para as mentiras, as amigas cínicas e falsas, amiguinhas da onça :) estou cansada de pessoas sem escrúpulos, que são capazes de tudo só para ver os outros mal e sim, eu antes dava muita importância a certos gestos, certas palavras e a certas tentativas de me derrubar, agora não, quero lá saber dessas pessoas... É que sinceramente não vale mesmo a pena dar importância a esses pormenores :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Venha o que vier, pedra e cal cá estou, acompanhada sempre do amor da minha vida :) My only one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;E quem disse que ser feliz é difícil?! Não, é a coisa mais simples da vida, às vezes as pessoas é que  tendem a complicar *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-7774448172250395566?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/7774448172250395566/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/love-song.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7774448172250395566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/7774448172250395566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/love-song.html' title='Love song'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3322822611107966348</id><published>2010-07-15T21:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T21:55:04.748+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tia Preta</title><content type='html'>Porque me custa tanto saber e constatar, cada vez mais, que existem &lt;a href="http://coconafralda.blogspot.com/2010/07/tia-preta.html"&gt;pessoas&lt;/a&gt; tão boas neste mundo e a sofrerem tanto. Pessoas que por mais que queiramos dar, mais de nós, nada lhes trará a solução.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lido o textinho no http://coconafralda.blogspot.com *&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3322822611107966348?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3322822611107966348/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/tia-preta.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3322822611107966348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3322822611107966348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/tia-preta.html' title='Tia Preta'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8424480130967928005</id><published>2010-07-14T23:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T23:20:27.617+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolução positiva *</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Por vezes (muitas vezes) o cansaço, o medo, a incerteza ganham forças e tornam-se mais fortes que a própria vontade de vencer, de ultrapassar tudo, mas (felizmente) existe sempre aquela força interior, que teima em contrariar esses sentimentos que eu chamo de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lágrimas&lt;/span&gt;, pois sabe que eu consigo sempre ser mais, muito mais,  do que o que penso, do que eu pareço. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Um bom exemplo disso, é quando depois de aparecerem as Lágrimas, eu luto contra elas com os meus &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sorrisos&lt;/span&gt; (também uns sentimentos aqui camuflados - o Amor, a Amizade, a Esperança), nem sempre é fácil, porque as lágrimas são salgadas e os sorrisos são doces e nem sempre é algo que é compatível, ou seja, o sorriso nem sempre é o anti-vírus indicado para o vírus das lágrimas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Estes ultimos meses as Lágrimas foram diminuindo, chegando mesmo quase a se extinguirem, na mesma proporção que os Sorrisos foram aumentando, e consequentemente, o meu Bem-estar está óptimo, porque sinto-me bem comigo mesma, sinto que por semear sementes boas irei colher coisas boas e por isso já uma melhor Bá do que era, e os sorrisos/risos/amigos/amor/felicidade, esses eu ando a recuperar aos poucos :) Guardo-os bem lá dentro, bem no fundinho do meu coração.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8424480130967928005?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8424480130967928005/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/evolucao-positiva.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8424480130967928005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8424480130967928005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/07/evolucao-positiva.html' title='Evolução positiva *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8681990855071126950</id><published>2010-06-29T22:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T22:49:15.826+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desespero I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TCpqK2tsQII/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_zHXreyxdL8/s1600/36398_10150184566530511_665785510_12822034_2525050_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TCpqK2tsQII/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_zHXreyxdL8/s400/36398_10150184566530511_665785510_12822034_2525050_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488315830622765186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Nunca mais alcanço o grande objectivo, a meta...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8681990855071126950?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8681990855071126950/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/desespero-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8681990855071126950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8681990855071126950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/desespero-i.html' title='Desespero I'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TCpqK2tsQII/AAAAAAAAAPQ/_zHXreyxdL8/s72-c/36398_10150184566530511_665785510_12822034_2525050_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4527762049946759914</id><published>2010-06-22T16:59:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T17:00:59.583+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Vai-se arriscar uma coisa nova, investir no seu crescimento e esperar que dê frutos no futuro. Para já, ficamos aqui ao pé*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4527762049946759914?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4527762049946759914/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/vai-se-arriscar-uma-coisa-nova-investir.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4527762049946759914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4527762049946759914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/vai-se-arriscar-uma-coisa-nova-investir.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2623949093090642548</id><published>2010-06-20T23:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T23:33:06.101+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor... *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"O maior inimigo de um amor pleno é o medo. O medo de não ser suficientemente amado, de não amar o suficiente, de não sermos a pessoa que pensamos que o outro quer, o medo da responsabilidade, da rotina, do compromisso, o medo de falhar, de se deixar ir, de amar e de se deixar amar..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;MRP, nas Crónicas do Jornal Sol * Retirei este excerto do http://asnovenomeublogue.blogspot.com/ *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Porque garanto-te, o medo esse, vai desaparecer e só vão restar as provas de que o nosso amor é verdadeiro, e juntos somos um e o resto vem por acréscimo. Garanto-te. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/5437615309460901184-2623949093090642548?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2623949093090642548/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/amor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2623949093090642548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2623949093090642548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/amor.html' title='Amor... *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2209896766759176</id><published>2010-06-19T14:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T14:34:17.509+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Now or Never</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBzHT3jy-_I/AAAAAAAAAPI/GyZFZX1yXcs/s1600/bscap0880.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBzHT3jy-_I/AAAAAAAAAPI/GyZFZX1yXcs/s400/bscap0880.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484477590375955442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;"Meredith: I love you, and I do want to marry you today, but there is no time!&lt;br /&gt;Derek: Do you have a piece of paper?&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: For what?&lt;br /&gt;Derek: I want to be with you forever, and you want to be with me forever, and in order to do that, we need to make vows. A commitment. A contract. Give me a piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: I don't. I don't. I have Post-Its!&lt;br /&gt;Derek: Okay.What do we want to promise each other?&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: That you'll love me, even when you hate me.&lt;br /&gt;Derek:To love each other, even when we hate each other. No running. Ever. Nobody walks out, no matter what happens.&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: No running.&lt;br /&gt;Derek: What else?&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: That we'll take care of each other, even when we're old and smelly and senile. And if I get Alzheimer's and forget you…&lt;br /&gt;Derek: I will remind you who I am every day. "To take care when we're old. Senile. Smelly. This is forever". Sign.&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: This is our wedding. A Post-It?&lt;br /&gt;Derek: Mm-hmm. When you sign it.&lt;br /&gt;Meredith:Now what?&lt;br /&gt;Derek: Now we kiss the bride.(they kiss)&lt;br /&gt;Meredith: Married.&lt;br /&gt;Derek: Married. See that? Plenty of time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Grey's Anatomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2209896766759176?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2209896766759176/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/now-or-never.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2209896766759176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2209896766759176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/now-or-never.html' title='Now or Never'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBzHT3jy-_I/AAAAAAAAAPI/GyZFZX1yXcs/s72-c/bscap0880.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-8800234659222142213</id><published>2010-06-19T14:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T14:09:26.745+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisboa?! Será?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Porque, cada vez mais, Lisboa parece ser um futuro próximo, uma oportunidade a agarrar com as duas mãos (e os dois pés) *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-8800234659222142213?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/8800234659222142213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/lisboa-sera_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8800234659222142213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/8800234659222142213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/lisboa-sera_19.html' title='Lisboa?! Será?'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4633552592143528168</id><published>2010-06-19T00:22:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T00:29:00.088+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBwAlFoRLLI/AAAAAAAAAO4/SVgaIlFmZko/s1600/DSC00831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBwAlFoRLLI/AAAAAAAAAO4/SVgaIlFmZko/s400/DSC00831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484259083396656306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I'm here without you baby&lt;br /&gt;But you're still on my lonely mind&lt;br /&gt;I think about you baby&lt;br /&gt;And I dream about you all the time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here without you baby&lt;br /&gt;But you're still with me in my dreams&lt;br /&gt;And tonight &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;boy&lt;/span&gt; it's only you and me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;@3 doors down - Here without you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4633552592143528168?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4633552592143528168/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-here-without-you-baby-but-youre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4633552592143528168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4633552592143528168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-here-without-you-baby-but-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBwAlFoRLLI/AAAAAAAAAO4/SVgaIlFmZko/s72-c/DSC00831.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-3391822148036167739</id><published>2010-06-17T00:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T00:17:25.917+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Incubus - I Miss You *</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image: url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/HiNvz7hihGA/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HiNvz7hihGA&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HiNvz7hihGA&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT&amp;amp;fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-3391822148036167739?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/3391822148036167739/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/incubus-i-miss-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3391822148036167739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/3391822148036167739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/incubus-i-miss-you.html' title='Incubus - I Miss You *'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5136771853395208294</id><published>2010-06-14T23:50:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T00:15:54.254+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha Enfermagem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBa3kqGbhII/AAAAAAAAAOw/uqwLUXP6VBI/s1600/OrientacoesEnfermagem-450x656.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBa3kqGbhII/AAAAAAAAAOw/uqwLUXP6VBI/s400/OrientacoesEnfermagem-450x656.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482771436774589570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;É sem dúvida uma profissão fascinante (pelo menos a meus olhos, claro!), uma profissão trabalhosa, cansativa (fisica e psicologicamente), uma profissão recompensadora por simplesmente se basear no &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cuidar&lt;/span&gt; o outro, o mais necessitado, o utente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A minha Enfermagem, em 98% dos casos, deixa-me com um sorriso de orelha a orelha, por simplesmente me preencher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a minha Enfermagem não é só coisas boas, pelo contrário, nos dias que correm é uma profissão precária, porque apesar da imensa falta de enfermeiros no SNS do país, a nossa Ministra continua com a tendência de cortar não só no nosso ordenado, como nas horas extras e simplemente com a contratação de novos enfermeiros e restante pessoal de saúde, mas por exemplo, dão a possibilidade de contratarem médicos reformados (benza a deus o cúmulo a que o nosso país chegou - e não tenho nadinha contra os médicos reformados, apenas e pura e simplesmente contra a nossa Ministra que até pode ser um amor de pessoa, mas não faz ideia do que é a vida num hospital, das dinâmicas, dos recursos humanos e materiais necessários para que o SNS se erga diariamente...) Enfim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Cada ano sai uma fornada Enorme de Recém-Licenciados que se vão juntando aos restantes Enfermeiros ainda no desemprego, o que leva a que cada concurso, cada local de trabalho, se torne numa luta, numa competição constante, porque a esperança é a última a morrer e por vezes utilizam todos os meios (até os mais baixos) para singrarem, para conseguirem um emprego (mesmo que precário, e entenda-se por precário como trabalhar a recibos verdes, ganhar 2,5 euros/hora, ser submetido a contratos e a condições de trabalho nulas, etc.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho pena que a situação esteja assim, muitas das vezes, em vez de nos unirmos por uma causa maior (o nosso futuro) não... Andamos quase à batatada para ver qual é o melhor, o que tem a melhor média, mais experiência profissional, vai-se ver as formações e os estágios, quem tem a melhor Cunha, etc. É uma constante comparação e sei disso porque por vezes também acabo por me comparar com os que me rodeiam, é o desespero a falar eu sei, e sinto-me mal quando o faço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Neste último mês em particular, senti-me por várias vezes, a perder a força e a esperança, a ver o meu mundo estagnado na luta dos meus sonhos, porque ver que o pouco que temos ainda se vai tornar mais "pouco" deixou-me ainda pior. E sim eu sei, eu sei que me queixo de boca cheia, há tanta gente neste mundo com tão menos e tão feliz. E eu sou feliz, porque tenho o meu piriquito, o meu geek pessoal que nunca me deixou ir abaixo, me limpou as lágrimas derramadas e me deu o beijo e a palavra de força que sempre precisei, tenho uma sorte de o ter a meu lado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não posso, nem podemos desistir, e eu sei que um dia também me vou sentir completa profissionalmente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5136771853395208294?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5136771853395208294/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/minha-enfermagem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5136771853395208294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5136771853395208294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/minha-enfermagem.html' title='A minha Enfermagem...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBa3kqGbhII/AAAAAAAAAOw/uqwLUXP6VBI/s72-c/OrientacoesEnfermagem-450x656.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-486465405677735061</id><published>2010-06-13T22:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:40:48.699+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desejos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;Hoje precisava de um mimo extra, sem ser os chocolates ou as minhas megas gomas apetitosas (apesar de que, também eram muito recebidas e saboreadas), hoje apetecia-me mais e mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje apetecia-me mesmo uma coisa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;especial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;, uma surpresa sentida e preparada com todo o carinho e amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-486465405677735061?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/486465405677735061/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/desejos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/486465405677735061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/486465405677735061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/desejos.html' title='Desejos...'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-5659444523118509833</id><published>2010-06-13T20:25:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T20:38:01.578+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E tu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBUzhR613AI/AAAAAAAAAOo/gKCbHTeBkzQ/s1600/DSC00284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBUzhR613AI/AAAAAAAAAOo/gKCbHTeBkzQ/s400/DSC00284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482344768232348674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E tu? Tu és feliz comigo?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-5659444523118509833?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/5659444523118509833/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-tu.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5659444523118509833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/5659444523118509833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-tu.html' title='E tu?'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBUzhR613AI/AAAAAAAAAOo/gKCbHTeBkzQ/s72-c/DSC00284.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-2090846520599493428</id><published>2010-06-09T23:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T23:37:58.499+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E quando os dias são mais cinzentos,</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBAXjREnTNI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cHt7GM9HKE8/s1600/ScreenCaptures198.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBAXjREnTNI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cHt7GM9HKE8/s400/ScreenCaptures198.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480906641155509458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-2090846520599493428?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/2090846520599493428/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-quando-os-dias-sao-mais-cinzentos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2090846520599493428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/2090846520599493428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/e-quando-os-dias-sao-mais-cinzentos.html' title='E quando os dias são mais cinzentos,'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TBAXjREnTNI/AAAAAAAAAOg/cHt7GM9HKE8/s72-c/ScreenCaptures198.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5437615309460901184.post-4349354240171984616</id><published>2010-06-08T16:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T16:45:29.912+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um bocadinho do meu "grande" Vicio*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TA5lcd4xnEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/lGQfI81CkTE/s1600/grey+anatomy.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TA5lcd4xnEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/lGQfI81CkTE/s400/grey+anatomy.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480429336289975362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="border: medium none ; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Ask most people what they want out of life and the answer is simple - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:magenta;"&gt;to be happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Maybe it's this expectation though of wanting to be happy that just keeps us from ever getting there. Maybe the more we try to will ourselves to state's of bliss, the more confused we get - to the point where we don't recognize ourselves. Instead we just keep smiling - trying to be the happy people we wish we were. Until it eventually hits us, it's been there all along. Not in our dreams or our hopes but in the known, the comfortable, the familiar."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:x-small;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div  style="text-align: right;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Meredith Grey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:x-small;"  &gt;*&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Anatomia de Grey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5437615309460901184-4349354240171984616?l=nocturiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/4349354240171984616/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/um-bocadinho-do-meu-grande-vicio.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4349354240171984616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5437615309460901184/posts/default/4349354240171984616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nocturiaa.blogspot.com/2010/06/um-bocadinho-do-meu-grande-vicio.html' title='Um bocadinho do meu &quot;grande&quot; Vicio*'/><author><name>B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069794253968603995</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/_xZpa7vHMPSc/SqEqx4xKHcI/AAAAAAAAAAg/qvxa9JxNTWI/S220/%24R80L10F.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xZpa7vHMPSc/TA5lcd4xnEI/AAAAAAAAAOY/lGQfI81CkTE/s72-c/grey+anatomy.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
