<?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-11249412</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:15:14.942+02:00</updated><title type='text'>laralice in wonderland</title><subtitle type='html'>sobre os meus livros. fotos de don key shot, aqui-ali, minhas, e de websites sobre river jude.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111377483889158508</id><published>2007-01-02T14:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T19:55:21.316+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>dreaming</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111377483889158508/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111377483889158508' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377483889158508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377483889158508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2007/01/dreaming.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029438041365082</id><published>2007-01-01T14:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:04:06.860+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ainda não me tinha lembrado que se calhar estou morta</title><summary type='text'>Ainda não me tinha lembrado que se calhar estou morta. Ainda não havia pensado nesta possibilidade, nem mesmo quando falei com o Marco sobre o Verão passado, sobre o modo como nos conhecemos e depois concluímos que devíamos ter morrido no momento em que dissemos olá, pois a partir daí tudo o que nos aconteceu foi sempre demasiado perfeito e coincidente, como num sonho. Talvez seja o que me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029438041365082/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029438041365082' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029438041365082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029438041365082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2007/01/ainda-no-me-tinha-lembrado-que-se.html' title='Ainda não me tinha lembrado que se calhar estou morta'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112465698697843113</id><published>2006-12-25T22:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T12:08:20.026+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Saul</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112465698697843113/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112465698697843113' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465698697843113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465698697843113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/saul.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111054882409704509</id><published>2006-12-24T19:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T12:08:55.546+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha mãe está cada vez mais doente</title><summary type='text'>A minha mãe está cada vez mais doente. Não quer ir ao médico. Diz que não quer descobrir que tem qualquer coisa horrível. Ela e o Luca vão mudar-se para um quarto no hotel onde eu trabalhei no Verão, e a Luna vem comigo para um centro de abrigo durante o fim de semana, e depois para uma casa de freiras no meio do Bairro Vermelho. Estou assustada. Sinto-me terrivelmente sozinha e a minha vida </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111054882409704509/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111054882409704509' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054882409704509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054882409704509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/minha-me-est-cada-vez-mais-doente.html' title='A minha mãe está cada vez mais doente'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111054951595039947</id><published>2006-12-23T18:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T12:09:58.980+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha mãe está doente</title><summary type='text'>A minha mãe está doente, não sabe o que tem nem quer saber. Só sabe que tem medo. O Verão está quase a terminar e os dias estão frios. O tio do Carel mandou-lhe uma carta a dizer que se nós não sairmos do prédio em quinze dias chama a polícia. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;- Tens que ir para Portugal e levar a Luna. –diz a minha mãe. - Tens que pedir ao teu pai que te ajude.- Nem penses. – </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111054951595039947/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111054951595039947' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054951595039947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054951595039947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/minha-me-est-doente.html' title='A minha mãe está doente'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112465682965914873</id><published>2006-12-22T22:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:09:15.623+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sand, Sea, Sun, Star, Sky, Love e Tom Summer</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112465682965914873/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112465682965914873' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465682965914873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465682965914873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/sand-sea-sun-star-sky-love-e-tom.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111014813962051674</id><published>2006-12-21T14:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T18:16:17.176+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Micanopy</title><summary type='text'>A Sea preparou o chá e bebemos. Explicou-me que aqueles cogumelos não sabiam tão mal como os outros, mas eu nunca comera nenhum. O chá tinha um sabor predominante a mentol. Depois partimos no descapotável laranja para o pântano. Pelo caminho comecei a sentir–me mole e feliz, e as cores do dia e dos objectos, das nossas roupas e cabelos, de toda a paisagem, tornaram-se mais apelativas, como se </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111014813962051674/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111014813962051674' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014813962051674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014813962051674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/micanopy.html' title='Micanopy'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111002503294458823</id><published>2006-12-01T18:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T18:17:02.273+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tive agora a sensação muito forte de que já vivi este momento</title><summary type='text'>- Tive agora a sensação muito forte de que já vivi este momento. - Quando? - Não sei, talvez nunca, talvez a sensação seja de que este momento é suposto acontecer. - Estou a ficar arrepiada, Laura! - Não tenhas medo, Alice. É uma sensação boa, como se esta noite fizesse parte de uma história maior. - Como as histórias dos nossos livros? - Sim, como se o teu livro da levitação e meu livro nuclear </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111002503294458823/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111002503294458823' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111002503294458823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111002503294458823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2006/12/tive-agora-sensao-muito-forte-de-que-j.html' title='Tive agora a sensação muito forte de que já vivi este momento'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111021574586215645</id><published>2005-11-30T14:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T17:53:35.130+01:00</updated><title type='text'>MOJAVE</title><summary type='text'>A Mara e o Kiro vão buscar-me ao aeroporto. Ele tem o cabelo rapado em certas partes da cabeça e noutras não, para o filme que está a fazer com o Sand. Parece um louco. Mas como é bonito até um penteado destes lhe fica bem. A Mara veste umas calças de algodão justas às flores e uma camisola de malha branca por cima. Dizem-me que o Sand vai ter connosco ao deserto, e metemo-nos no jipe do Kiro.A </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111021574586215645/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111021574586215645' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021574586215645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021574586215645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/11/mojave.html' title='MOJAVE'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111014843932296679</id><published>2005-08-23T14:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T18:18:13.500+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No último dia da conversa dos três mil anos</title><summary type='text'>No último dia da conversa dos três mil anos temos que devolver o vídeo do Waking Life até às sete horas. Faz sol e vamos deitar-nos em Waterlooplein, no largo em frente ao prédio da ópera, numa espécie de arena sem propósito definido.- How do you fly in your dreams, Marco? – pergunto-lhe.- I start going up, until I reach the sky, and then I wake up. – responde-me. – Just like the guy in the film.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111014843932296679/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111014843932296679' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014843932296679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014843932296679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/08/no-ltimo-dia-da-conversa-dos-trs-mil.html' title='No último dia da conversa dos três mil anos'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111377739541228230</id><published>2005-08-22T14:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:18:22.436+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Marco</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111377739541228230/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111377739541228230' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377739541228230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377739541228230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/08/marco.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111014871906945555</id><published>2005-03-14T14:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:26:22.693+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The whole place was creepy</title><summary type='text'>The whole place was creepy, aristocratic you could say, and then, finally, of course, the big mirror on the wall. It was just so predictable, you know, when I was saying goodbye to you, and she was looking at me, through the mirror, and smiling at me, and me at her. It’s not even surprising anymore. When I look at the poster I see us, obviously - I see us all, really. In the movie, if I look </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111014871906945555/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111014871906945555' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014871906945555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014871906945555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/whole-place-was-creepy.html' title='The whole place was creepy'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111014964242234003</id><published>2005-03-14T14:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T17:09:21.050+02:00</updated><title type='text'>TEN TINY TALES</title><summary type='text'>When I arrived to &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;Zagreb my soul was still in Amsterdam. It had left me in the middle of the road somewhere in Germany, during the night, and it traveled back home while my body went further East. This was very confusing. Besides I was tired and my friend Laura was pretty much in the same soulless state of blankness. She wanted to slow down and rest, and I had to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111014964242234003/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111014964242234003' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014964242234003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111014964242234003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/ten-tiny-tales.html' title='TEN TINY TALES'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111021688643533240</id><published>2005-03-11T15:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:24:38.556+02:00</updated><title type='text'>SAND</title><summary type='text'>Nunca me senti tão apaixonada em toda a minha vida. Durante a primeira semana que passei na quinta o Sand levou-me a passear de carro todos os dias até sítios bonitos, e falámos interminavelmente sobre tantos assuntos, que nem todas as pessoas que conheço juntas e todas as conversas que tive com elas me ensinaram mais. Numa manhã húmida de sol intenso, deitados num campo perto de um lago </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111021688643533240/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111021688643533240' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021688643533240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021688643533240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/sand.html' title='SAND'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112465658947866144</id><published>2005-03-11T15:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:11:33.560+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sand</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112465658947866144/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112465658947866144' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465658947866144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465658947866144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/sand_11.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111381426675374558</id><published>2005-03-11T14:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T21:35:52.226+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Kiss Peace</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111381426675374558/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111381426675374558' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111381426675374558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111381426675374558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/kiss-peace.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111021839240438560</id><published>2005-03-11T14:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:23:42.916+02:00</updated><title type='text'>MORFEU AND THE ENDLESS DIMENSIONS</title><summary type='text'>This time I became tired of my dreams even faster. Not that I didn’t like all those things I imagined, and everything was really very exciting, but the fact that it was all taking place only in my mind, left me quite a lot to desire for. I needed to move, couldn’t do the things that I used to do anymore, and so I got stuck with the same problem as before. I needed to do something more real. And </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111021839240438560/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111021839240438560' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021839240438560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021839240438560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/morfeu-and-endless-dimensions.html' title='MORFEU AND THE ENDLESS DIMENSIONS'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111377717034963761</id><published>2005-03-11T14:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:24:03.806+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Camila</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111377717034963761/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111377717034963761' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377717034963761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377717034963761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/camila.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111381149833260679</id><published>2005-03-11T14:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:24:46.370+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Silvana</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111381149833260679/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111381149833260679' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111381149833260679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111381149833260679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/silvana_11.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029374911742148</id><published>2005-03-11T13:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:22:23.436+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ainda não me vi ao espelho</title><summary type='text'>Ainda não me vi ao espelho. Sinto-me estonteada, esqueço-me do que aconteceu há cinco minutos, como se fosse um peixe. Depois lembro-me:- Sonho.Mas este não acaba. Posso controlar tudo o que faço, decidir, escutar-me nitidamente, cheirar. Belisco-me e claro que me dói. Lembro-me que naquele filme chamado Waking Life, onde a personagem principal não conseguia acordar de um sonho, e onde não era </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029374911742148/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029374911742148' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029374911742148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029374911742148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/ainda-no-me-vi-ao-espelho.html' title='Ainda não me vi ao espelho'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112465762465180586</id><published>2005-03-10T15:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:15:06.340+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Da ponte para a ilha de Java</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112465762465180586/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112465762465180586' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465762465180586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465762465180586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/da-ponte-para-ilha-de-java.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029416432739772</id><published>2005-03-10T15:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:20:41.760+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O Shine vive</title><summary type='text'>O Shine vive, como na outra vida, no armazém naval ocupado, em frente ao grande canal que separa Amesterdão Norte de Amesterdão Sul, e à ponte que leva à ilha de Java. Pensei que nesta irrealidade ele talvez ainda vivesse com os pais. Mas não. Saiu de casa aos dezoito, tal como na outra existência, e foi morar na Marnixstraat, mais ou menos na altura em que eu encontrei o apartamento na Binnen </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029416432739772/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029416432739772' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029416432739772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029416432739772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/o-shine-vive.html' title='O Shine vive'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111377735904608742</id><published>2005-03-10T15:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:20:53.036+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Shine</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111377735904608742/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111377735904608742' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377735904608742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111377735904608742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/shine.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112465746394994011</id><published>2005-03-10T15:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:30:08.110+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O grande armazém naval ocupado</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112465746394994011/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112465746394994011' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465746394994011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112465746394994011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/o-grande-armazm-naval-ocupado.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111021890533951076</id><published>2005-03-10T14:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:26:18.433+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Continuo a sentir que voltei atrás no tempo</title><summary type='text'>Continuo a sentir que voltei atrás no tempo, como se tivesse novamente quinze anos e subisse a rua do liceu numa tarde de Primavera, e o Morfeu passasse por mim e me piscasse um olho verde por baixo da franja comprida. E depois ele volta a pedir-me para ser sua namorada e a desaparecer durante todo o Verão. Nesse Inverno em que o Morfeu andou com outra rapariga, eu deitava-me em cima da minha </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111021890533951076/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111021890533951076' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021890533951076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111021890533951076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/continuo-sentir-que-voltei-atrs-no.html' title='Continuo a sentir que voltei atrás no tempo'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111032025029673046</id><published>2005-03-10T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:19:22.740+02:00</updated><title type='text'>As aulas acabaram</title><summary type='text'>As aulas acabaram. É Santo António e há uma festa na Padaria do Povo, à noite. Vou buscar a Laura a casa, ela está sozinha, e diz-me para entrar. Sorri com um ar entusiasmado:- Tenho aqui um haxixe libanês que quero que experimentes comigo.- A sério? É bom?- Deve ser.Então sentamo-nos frente a frente, de pernas cruzadas, no meio do chão da cozinha iluminada, e a Laura enrola o charro. Fumamos. O </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111032025029673046/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111032025029673046' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111032025029673046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111032025029673046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/as-aulas-acabaram_10.html' title='As aulas acabaram'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-113283707204085254</id><published>2005-03-10T13:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:27:08.520+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Capa de Vota Em Mim Eu Voto Em Ti</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/113283707204085254/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=113283707204085254' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283707204085254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283707204085254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/capa-de-vota-em-mim-eu-voto-em-ti.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029555829020684</id><published>2005-03-09T18:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:15:19.773+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O Midas anda com a Rosa</title><summary type='text'>O Midas anda com a Rosa, embora ela esteja há muito tempo apaixonada por outro rapaz chamado Néri, que é giro e simpático. Mas toda a gente diz que ele agora gosta de rapazes. A Rosa recusa-se a acreditar nisso, como se fosse impossível, pois conheceu-o bem e sabe que ele gosta de raparigas. Será que ela nunca ouviu falar de bissexualidade? O Midas, pelo menos, já ouviu falar de poligamia, pois </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029555829020684/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029555829020684' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029555829020684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029555829020684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/o-midas-anda-com-rosa.html' title='O Midas anda com a Rosa'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029387263388216</id><published>2005-03-08T16:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:32:43.066+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O Berto vai ter a minha casa à hora de almoço</title><summary type='text'>O Berto vai ter a minha casa à hora de almoço e conta-me que a Fausta hoje voltou a dizer-lhe que tem a certeza que ele a anda a enganar e depois começou a chorar novamente.- Já não consigo mentir-lhe mais, Alice.- Então vais contar-lhe a verdade?- Acho que sim. E depois ela deixa-me, mas pelo menos isto acaba. Estou farto.- Também eu.- Antes não tinha namorada nenhuma, sempre achei que era feio,</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029387263388216/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029387263388216' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029387263388216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029387263388216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/o-berto-vai-ter-minha-casa-hora-de.html' title='O Berto vai ter a minha casa à hora de almoço'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111038860516895865</id><published>2005-03-08T16:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:14:35.923+02:00</updated><title type='text'>No armário tenho os chapéus</title><summary type='text'>No armário tenho os chapéus que o Shine e o Saul me deram na dimensão anterior. Um castanho com uma penugem cor-de-laranja à volta, e outro verde e castanho, que me faz parecer uma jamaicana. Tenho as minhas perneiras anarquistas, às riscas pretas e vermelhas, e as minhas luvas sem as pontas dos dedos, assim como o saco cor-de-rosa cheio de fitas e dourados pendurados que o Shine reciclou do lixo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111038860516895865/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111038860516895865' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111038860516895865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111038860516895865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/no-armrio-tenho-os-chapus_111038860516895865.html' title='No armário tenho os chapéus'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111046225772544274</id><published>2005-03-08T16:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:11:41.996+02:00</updated><title type='text'>No pântano perto do lago Pana Soffkee</title><summary type='text'>No pântano perto do lago Pana Soffkee comemos fruta e continuámos a nossa viagem interdimensional. Quando as alucinações diminuíram de intensidade esta tornou-se mais filosófica, dando origem a conversações profundas. E por fim senti uma enorme necessidade de estar só. Então afastei-me da Sea e do Sand, que continuaram a falar, e fui até à margem do lago olhar para as águas, sentada em cima de um</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111046225772544274/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111046225772544274' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046225772544274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046225772544274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/no-pntano-perto-do-lago-pana-soffkee_08.html' title='No pântano perto do lago Pana Soffkee'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-113283696895718225</id><published>2005-03-08T16:15:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T11:34:37.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Os Summers</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/113283696895718225/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=113283696895718225' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283696895718225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283696895718225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/os-summers.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111029514931514494</id><published>2005-03-08T16:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:13:46.040+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia seguinte</title><summary type='text'>Dia seguinte. Acordo na cama do Rio e posso ouvir todo o barulho matinal de carros e pessoas na agitada rua, enquanto a Gata se espreguiça deliciada e morna entre as minhas pernas, brilhando branca sob os raios de sol que penetraram as persianas. Procuro um vestido de alcinhas no meu saco de viagem, calço as sandálias, e saio de casa. O céu está azul e faz calor. Há muito barulho no mercado de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111029514931514494/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111029514931514494' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029514931514494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111029514931514494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/dia-seguinte.html' title='Dia seguinte'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111046275462157278</id><published>2005-03-08T16:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:09:35.826+02:00</updated><title type='text'>SOLSTÍCIO</title><summary type='text'>A Luna parece uma japonesa loura. O meu padrasto é simpático e bonito, muito alto. A minha mãe emana felicidade e engordou. Continua, todavia, uma mulher bela. Mas aborreço-me. Se o Sand não estivesse comigo morreria de tédio. Não fico nem um segundo sem ele. Encontrámos um lago enorme e pantanoso que nos recorda o Pana Soffkee. Chama-se Gaasperplas. Desde então vamos até lá todos os dias de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111046275462157278/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111046275462157278' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046275462157278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046275462157278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/solstcio.html' title='SOLSTÍCIO'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111046418516283163</id><published>2005-03-08T15:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:08:05.956+02:00</updated><title type='text'>CAOS</title><summary type='text'>A sensação foi igual à da festa no Mojave, mas agora aqueles comprimidos têm outro nome. Chamam-se ecstasy e é realmente isso, ficamos em êxtase. Também experimentámos base de cocaína em casa do Noel, e começámos todos sete a falar ao mesmo tempo sobre vários assuntos em simultâneo, enfiados na casa de banho sem motivo aparente, eufóricos e sorridentes. Depois fomos para a Torre de Belém, e assim</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111046418516283163/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111046418516283163' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046418516283163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046418516283163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/caos.html' title='CAOS'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111046532403320781</id><published>2005-03-08T15:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:07:21.206+02:00</updated><title type='text'>SARA</title><summary type='text'>Andamos pelas ruas de Campo de Ourique a pedir cigarros a quem passa, o que é difícil, sobretudo quando estou com ela, pois é mais baixa que eu e temos as duas um ar demasiado novo para alguém se sentir bem a dar-nos de fumar. Separamo-nos e cada uma dá a volta a um quarteirão diferente. Depois encontramo-nos à porta da casa da Sara.- Foda-se! – exclama ela. - Não arranjei nada! Estes idiotas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111046532403320781/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111046532403320781' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046532403320781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111046532403320781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/sara.html' title='SARA'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111054789421198423</id><published>2005-03-08T15:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:06:31.430+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pelo caminho</title><summary type='text'>Pelo caminho passou por nós uma rapariga gótica, com um daqueles vestidos compridos e arqueados, à dama antiga, com arames por dentro. O vestido era preto, os seus cabelos negros, e ela usava longas luvas até aos cotovelos. Enquanto caminhava o vestido balançava, e ela transportava no rosto uma expressão muito séria e abstraída dos olhares alheios, maravilhados com a sua peculiaridade. &lt;?xml:</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111054789421198423/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111054789421198423' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054789421198423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111054789421198423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/pelo-caminho.html' title='Pelo caminho'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111055015812880275</id><published>2005-03-07T18:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:02:06.690+02:00</updated><title type='text'>O David</title><summary type='text'>O David é engraçado. Já não me lembrava de como era louco e inventivo. Chegou um tanto apático, e fez-me impressão ele estar assim. Não consigo fingir que está tudo bem quando algo me incomoda e as pessoas envolvidas são capazes de o entender. Quero dizer, não vou dizer à minha avó que ela fica nervosa muitas vezes desnecessariamente. Ela tem noventa anos. Nem vou dizer-lhe que o Cristianismo é </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111055015812880275/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111055015812880275' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111055015812880275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111055015812880275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/o-david.html' title='O David'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111072229132508040</id><published>2005-03-07T18:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:01:14.253+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Na festa de drum &amp; base</title><summary type='text'>Na festa de drum &amp; base toda a gente está sentada pelos cantos da sala, e eu e a Rose sentamo-nos também, num sofá, ao lado de um polaco que já dorme de tão bêbado ou cansado. Afasto as pernas dele um pouco para o lado, para me poder sentar confortavelmente, e ele abre os olhos ligeiramente e sorri-me, enrosca-se melhor e volta a ficar com as pernas dele encostadas às minhas. Eu tinha dito ao </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111072229132508040/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111072229132508040' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111072229132508040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111072229132508040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/na-festa-de-drum-base.html' title='Na festa de drum &amp; base'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-111082159447500868</id><published>2005-03-06T23:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T14:49:23.796+02:00</updated><title type='text'>GIL</title><summary type='text'>The next summer my brother Levi became eighteen and left the house to go and live in Pérola’s old apartment with my cousin Rio. I was only fifteen, and couldn’t do much about it. It became really depressing living with my father, Pérola, and Eva. My sister was almost five, and she needed a room of her own, so my father asked Levi if he would like to share a place with Rio, who was his age, and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/111082159447500868/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=111082159447500868' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111082159447500868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/111082159447500868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/gil_06.html' title='GIL'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-113283703674060300</id><published>2005-03-06T23:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T21:36:12.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Capa de Kiss Peace</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/113283703674060300/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=113283703674060300' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283703674060300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283703674060300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/capa-de-kiss-peace.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-112297355982292800</id><published>2005-03-06T10:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T18:02:24.960+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Na Tentadora</title><summary type='text'>Vivo duas vidas constantemente, o que é difícil, mas não consigo evitá-lo. Estou aqui sentada nesta dimensão, mas também na outra, e a cada momento vivo nas duas, para mencionar apenas estas, pois há mais. Sou a Lara e tento decidir o que se passará nessa outra dimensão, e enquanto não chego a uma conclusão não consigo descansar, esquecer-me, concentrar-me nesta existência física. Em determinados</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/112297355982292800/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=112297355982292800' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112297355982292800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/112297355982292800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2005/03/na-tentadora.html' title='Na Tentadora'/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11249412.post-113283682053628741</id><published>2003-11-24T13:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T17:57:06.306+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Luna</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/feeds/113283682053628741/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11249412&amp;postID=113283682053628741' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283682053628741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11249412/posts/default/113283682053628741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eslalala.blogspot.com/2003/11/luna.html' title=''/><author><name>laralice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00773923782974690575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
