conselho!! tanto me disseram! Nao queria saber, queria acreditar e foi assim... enfim.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
at
3:12 PM
| Posted by
Safari
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we have just one shot
at
3:21 PM
| Posted by
Safari
“I’ll go out there and make my mistakes. I’ll fall down, get hurt, cry, laugh, love, and get back up. I’ll stand on the highest mountaintop and go into the deepest caverns. I’ll roam across the world, visit the moon and swim in outer space. I’ll let my imagination run wild and let my spirit soar. Why? Because when my life flashes before my eyes in those final moments, I want to have something worthwhile to watch, with plenty of love and laughter, good times and bad. I don’t want to regret a thing and I plan not to. Remember, it’s not usually the things you do that you regret, it’s the things you don’t do and leave unsaid. Laugh out loud. Cry in the rain. Love with all your heart and soul. Get hurt. Tell the truth. Go crazy. But never forget that you only get one shot. One shot at this day, one shot at this minute. One shot at this age. One shot at life. So make sure your life is one you will enjoy watching in your final moments.”
— Anna Floyd
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stay throught
at
3:16 PM
| Posted by
Safari
“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.”
— Bob Marley
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plano
Thursday, April 08, 2010
at
11:04 AM
| Posted by
Safari

Trabalho o poema sobre uma hipótese: o amor
que se despeja no copo da vida, até meio, como se
o pudéssemos beber de um trago. No fundo,
como o vinho turvo, deixa um gosto amargo na
boca. Pergunto onde está a transparência do
vidro, a pureza do líquido inicial, a energia
de quem procura esvaziar a garrafa; e a resposta
são estes cacos que nos cortam as mãos, a mesa
da alma suja de restos, palavras espalhadas
num cansaço de sentidos. Volto, então, à primeira
hipótese. O amor. Mas sem o gastar de uma vez,
esperando que o tempo encha o copo até cima,
para que o possa erguer à luz do teu corpo
e veja, através dele, o teu rosto inteiro.
Nuno Júdice
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