<?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-3644507</id><updated>2011-07-30T18:09:58.633Z</updated><title type='text'>m i c r o f o n e</title><subtitle type='html'>quando bate a porta você pula pela janela</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>consuelo</name><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>290</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2927001984175178071</id><published>2010-06-11T07:34:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-06-11T07:35:45.501Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>!!!new blog coming soon...!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2927001984175178071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2927001984175178071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2010/06/new-blog-coming-soon.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2844391110260005157</id><published>2007-11-28T22:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-29T20:06:29.236Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>there were doors but no exit as in bunuel's exterminating angel. there were wild elephants but you could not attract them with the peanuts in your pockets, oh circus' kid. there were boats on the roof but not a sight of flood. last night, previous dreams mixed in one attempted pessimistic chorus. i woke up feeling happy and free. need no doors if there are windows, no wild elephants if your </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2844391110260005157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2844391110260005157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/11/there-were-doors-but-no-exit-as-in.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2194863220644912952</id><published>2007-10-20T21:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-20T21:55:47.674Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ouco as pessoas que foram fazer o que eu nao. nao hoje. buscar o santo gral sabado 'a noite traz uma euforia que acorda vizinhos e dorme antes do amanhecer.nao fui hoje ouvir musica e dancar com amigos porque tenho que escolher entre um disco ou muitas cervejas, e fiquei com o disco. amanha compro, mesmo sabendo que deveria mesmo era optar pelo absolutamente necessario - o jeans.cavei uma buraco </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2194863220644912952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2194863220644912952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/10/ouco-as-pessoas-que-foram-fazer-o-que.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-9020121253638670363</id><published>2007-10-15T23:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-15T23:49:44.971Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>como se saindo da jaula, como se fazendo 18 anos, como se vendo o mar pela primeira vez. urgente, jovem, renovada. eu quero a mim.impossivel quebrar um coracao aos pedacos.impossivel brigar com o que ja era.impossivel construir em lama.impossivel colar cacos perfeitos.impossivel construir, colar, brigar quando em cacos em lama em pedacos.me da um pedaco teu que te dou outro. mas nao me venha com </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/9020121253638670363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/9020121253638670363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/10/como-se-saindo-da-jaula-como-se-fazendo.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-4446270211117519925</id><published>2007-10-09T22:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-09T22:42:19.457Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>um dia comeca a chover. e a chuva nao para nunca - voce constroi uma vida subterranea. os tomates crescem ali, faz um calor mediano, tudo funciona de certa forma. de certa forma. um dia voce espia o ceu e nem chove mais. faz tempo e voce ali, onde tudo funciona so' de certa forma. tem sol, quando voce espia. e voce sai correndo. mas qualquer dia, volta a chover.que sim.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/4446270211117519925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/4446270211117519925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/10/um-dia-comeca-e-chover.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-7849740433494615685</id><published>2007-09-26T18:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-26T18:55:37.178Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a exposicao era na usina do gasometro, mas nao era la'. tinha umas pinturas grandes quase desaparecendo no algodao grosso da tela. e no chao uma pilha de portas vitorianas, entitulada 'life begginings'. tinha um corredor imenso com uma centena de banheiros tamanho crianca e inscricoes infantis do lado de dentro das portinhas de madeira corroida lembravam as coisas que todos um dia fomos e os </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7849740433494615685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7849740433494615685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/09/exposicao-era-na-usina-do-gasometro-mas.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-7863714343744525901</id><published>2007-09-02T03:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-02T03:08:14.920Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'i tell you: one must have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. i tell you: you still have chaos in you.'thus spoke him. oh, lets, lets, chaos and madness; chaos and happiness.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7863714343744525901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7863714343744525901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-tell-you-one-must-have-chaos-in-one.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-3192706026717640363</id><published>2007-08-29T15:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-29T15:54:57.231Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>nao foi ironia acm, bergman e antonioni morrerem na mesma semana. e' um lembrete de que quando a gente vai, fica historia - um traco. e que alguns tracos sao bem mais simpaticos do que outros.tampouco foi ironia o observer, nosso guardian de domingo, na mesma semana lancar sua revista de cinema com a 'grande atriz' angelina jolie na capa. os morangos mofaram.precisou um menino de 13 anos da </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3192706026717640363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3192706026717640363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/08/nao-foi-ironia-acm-bergman-e-antonioni_29.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-1216611582733989914</id><published>2007-08-27T20:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-27T21:01:57.359Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>voce fez uma tatuagem, voce fez um dragao, um coracao. voce sente e voce nao tem forcas para brigar. nem motivo. voce se desloca, louca alguns pensam. e quando voce escreve isso nao sabe se 'pensam' termina com m ou com n. e entao fuck. voce nao tem nem mais sua lingua, de tudo que ficou para tras. voce nao tem mais tudo o que ficou para tras.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/1216611582733989914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/1216611582733989914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/08/voce-fez-uma-tatuagem-voce-fez-um.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2930021906518439469</id><published>2007-08-26T03:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-26T03:31:14.800Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>uma tatuagem de coracao. em fogo. voando. agora no meu braco eu quero.so... how would you like to live? are you impulsive, emotional, alive? do you live by instinct? are you free, wild, and happy? are you young, excited, ready? would you like to live intensely? are you ready to be unstable? or maybe you think love streams as in a cassavetes film. and that we should stick to ideas and (mostly) </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2930021906518439469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2930021906518439469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/08/uma-tatuagem-de-coracao.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-3035638710772622719</id><published>2007-07-29T13:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-29T13:28:06.772Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a arte da comedia na busca por um hotel em nova iorque: (grifos meus)the west side inn offers 24-hour reception, coin-operated laundry facilities, wireless internet and computer kiosks in the lobby. additionally, this hotel is not wheelchair accessible. the six-story inn's 88 guestrooms are bright and offer simple amenities including cable television, windows that open and shared bathrooms. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3035638710772622719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3035638710772622719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/07/arte-da-comedia-na-busca-por-um-hotel.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-6019345300724593565</id><published>2007-07-20T09:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-20T09:39:14.726Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'some people can distract themselves with ambition', diz o personagem do lynch que assisti ontem, 'but it's not for me'.goji berries tibetanas, comi quase um pacote viciosamente - me garantiram uns anos a menos de rugas e dias de dor de barriga.o cardinal Renato Martino, presidente do council pela justica e paz do Vaticano, acusa a Anestia Internacional de ter renegado sua missao de defender </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6019345300724593565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6019345300724593565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/07/some-people-can-distract-themselves.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-3745432071143450863</id><published>2007-05-07T14:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-07T14:53:30.707Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o roller eu comprei, nao na base da economia de subsistencia mas do cartao de credito, mesmo. valeu cada centavo do que eu nao tinha. e quando nao tem nenhum adolescente de patins fazendo malabarismos por perto, eu estou arrasando, obrigada.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3745432071143450863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3745432071143450863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/05/o-roller-eu-comprei-nao-na-base-da.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2697446479924411764</id><published>2007-05-07T14:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-07T14:44:16.215Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ha' uns 15 anos me contaram que vendiam la' na alemanha ovos de galinha 'feliz'. aquelas que tem uma vida tipo ciscar um milho e dar uma volta pelo gramado pra paquerar o galo alem de ficar ali provendo pintos e ovos ou simplesmente se provendo como prato nutritivo, barato e com pouca gordura, explicaram. pois estas galinhas felizes hoje estao por todo lado, sao o que chamamos organicas e free </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2697446479924411764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2697446479924411764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/05/ha-uns-15-anos-me-contaram-que-vendiam.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-6972597633876604392</id><published>2007-04-18T20:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-18T20:18:56.444Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>subsistence economyquero comprar um roller. preciso de um trabalhinho limpo que pague 50 libras. amanha, que no fim de semana vou patinar.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6972597633876604392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6972597633876604392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/subsistence-economy-quero-comprar-um.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-1834750783045776151</id><published>2007-04-18T19:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-18T20:34:02.773Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>coreanos estao chocados, americanos estao chocados, bush tambem. o mundo entristeceu. parecia que estavamos acostumados. 170 hoje em bagda', 130 dia 3 de fevereiro, outros 90 em 6 de marco. e os mineiros chineses, que morrem em nome de camisetas de 1.99, foram quantos? e quantos no rio de janeiro em marco? if one thing matters, everything matters - assim falou wolfgang tillmans.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/1834750783045776151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/1834750783045776151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/coreanos-estao-chocados-americanos.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2182945898288930549</id><published>2007-04-18T19:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-18T19:25:48.905Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>na folha online, la' embaixo, junto com as materias que tem como chamada 'fernanda candido vai levar uma surra em paraiso tropical' e 'prefeitura exibe porno por engano na belgica' (sempre tao informativa a leitura da folha), esta' uma noticia importantissima: acm permanece internado no incor com insuficiencia cardiaca. o que vai acontecer, minha gente, se o acm passar desta para uma certamente </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2182945898288930549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2182945898288930549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/na-folha-online-la-embaixo-junto-com-as.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-6728962718509786528</id><published>2007-04-08T23:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-08T23:39:17.346Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>carta aberta para quem ainda nao sabe ler.nasceu, gatinha. entao vem que o mundo e' bom. nem sempre vai te parecer assim, mas e'. a gente anda por aqui e a gente ri. a gente tenta rir ao maximo, assim contamos nosso indice de felicidade. nao e' so' isso. a gente produz coisas, gera coisas em outros, cria outras em nos mesmos. a gente se move e ve coisas incriveis. a gente recomeca e nunca termina</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6728962718509786528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/6728962718509786528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/carta-aberta-para-quem-ainda-nao-sabe.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-5255197102151639964</id><published>2007-04-08T22:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-08T23:12:42.509Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>nos ultimos sete anos o consumo de carne no mundo dobrou. 250 milhoes de toneladas por ano, e' o que se come. um monte. gasta agua e toma espaco, se so' isso. tem quem diz que nem faz bem. nao me atrevo. cada um que decida o que come. vem de uma populacao de seis bilhoes de cabecas de gado, 16 bilhoes de galinhas. galinhas nao exatamente: aquilo que elas viraram. essa coisa de patas deformadas </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/5255197102151639964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/5255197102151639964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/nos-ultimos-sete-anos-o-consumo-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-5855291583694978829</id><published>2007-04-08T19:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-08T19:54:02.589Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>todo mundo quis saber porque eu sorria tanto com aquela cara de quem tinha chorado. nao entenderam muito tanta emocao por uma sobrinha, mas mesmo assim comecaram a comprar champanhe. contagiou como um virus e no final, ali naquele pequeno mundo, celebramos a tua chegada isabelli.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/5855291583694978829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/5855291583694978829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/todo-mundo-quis-saber-porque-eu-sorria.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-157225664312337024</id><published>2007-04-05T18:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-05T18:52:33.197Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o vizinho tem cortinas novas. tudo bem, verao chegou.'All societies are factories of meanings. They are more than that, in fact: nothing less than the nurseries of meaningful life. Their service is indispensable. Aristotle observed that a solitary being outside a polis can be only an angel or a beast; no wonder, we may say, since the first is immortal and the second unaware of its mortality. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/157225664312337024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/157225664312337024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-vizinho-tem-cortinas-novas.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-9177848488866618132</id><published>2007-03-06T19:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-19T18:12:11.622Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>eu espio meu vizinho. e' errado, eu sei, mas nao resisto. ele mora do outro lado da rua, no apartamento em cima do pub irlandes que tem no letreiro 'céad míle fáilte', que significa 'a hundred thousand welcomes', assim como um 'since 1998'. a gente mora aqui since 2003 e nunca atravessamos a rua para entrar no pub. o meu vizinho e' gerente do pub ou algo assim - um dia ele desceu e abriu o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/9177848488866618132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/9177848488866618132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/03/eu-espio-meu-vizinho.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-316756806622416467</id><published>2007-02-22T15:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-22T15:26:06.944Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>peter pan syndromeporque nao tinha nada para comemorar a gente fez uma festa, com caixas de som emprestadas, quatro lindos djs com sets fabulosos, 60 pessoas numa quarta-feira dispostas e comemorar o nada tambem. com o vestido que foi da minha mae no ano em que nasci, brinquei com baloes, dancei sozinha, dancei com amigos e fiz a danca da despedida com meu irmao. grudei na minha memoria um pedaco</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/316756806622416467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/316756806622416467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/peter-pan-syndrome-porque-nao-tinha.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-2713487398358597230</id><published>2007-02-15T18:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T19:01:46.125Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>its dark, lights are off on purpose. mum asks whats going on, i said: nothing. kids wanted to sleep at mine tonite. dad said no. not related, but i cried. yes i did. im proud. mum asks whats going on, i said: everything.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2713487398358597230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/2713487398358597230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/its-dark-lights-are-off-on-purpose.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-8164826809902168578</id><published>2007-02-15T18:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:54:11.685Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>but honestlyarcade fire is the fucking band</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/8164826809902168578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/8164826809902168578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/but-honestly-arcade-fire-is-fucking.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-4358369891881820185</id><published>2007-02-15T18:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:53:24.448Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>vc ve ali, um post 6:40, outro 6:42 e claro entenda: a ma' qualidade de tudo e' obra da pressa. eu sou ok escrevendo.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/4358369891881820185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/4358369891881820185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/vc-ve-ali-um-post-640-outro-642-e-claro.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-662984845602118617</id><published>2007-02-15T18:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:49:54.337Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sobre a vida, parte 1000vc nem pediu e levouthat's what people call luckyis it?oh thanks</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/662984845602118617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/662984845602118617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/sobre-vida-parte-1000-vc-nem-pediu-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-22013544611849456</id><published>2007-02-15T18:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:48:29.833Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sobre gigs:vc ve sonic youth e nao tem muito maisve pixiesradioheadliarsmas oh no meio do caminho tem clap your hands,and you clapand clapand dance with your brotherand let goand ooh welltem muito maisvc entende</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/22013544611849456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/22013544611849456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/sobre-gigs-vc-ve-sonic-youth-e-nao-tem.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-891350765019685602</id><published>2007-02-15T18:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:45:05.787Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sobre a vida, a poem, with pride:sempre importoui have another 40 yearsoh welllets go</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/891350765019685602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/891350765019685602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/sobre-vida-poem-with-pride-sempre.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-3157053889453915964</id><published>2007-02-15T18:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:43:41.131Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sobre meu valentines, a poem:pela primeira vez importoufoi nadana.da</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3157053889453915964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/3157053889453915964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/sobre-meu-valentines-poem-pela-primeira.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-7324421493767630294</id><published>2007-02-15T18:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-15T18:42:23.094Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>hohothe best winters's thing is definitely going on pyjamas (coat on top) to buy the papers.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7324421493767630294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/7324421493767630294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/02/hoho-best-winterss-thing-is-definitely.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116998940330089633</id><published>2007-01-28T13:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-28T13:03:23.313Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'People always ask us what we will do if one of us gets run over. We say: "Fear not! We always cross the road together."'Gilbert and George, Observer, on love.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116998940330089633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116998940330089633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/people-always-ask-us-what-we-will-do.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116959086901075925</id><published>2007-01-23T22:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-23T22:21:09.033Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'The decadent international but individualistic capitalism, in the hands of which we found ourselves after the war, is not a success. It is not intelligent, it is not beautiful, it is not just, it is not virtuous - and it doesn't deliver the goods. In short, we dislike it and are beginning to despise it. But when we wonder what to put in its place, we are perplexed.'Et tu, Brute?Keynes, 1933</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116959086901075925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116959086901075925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/decadent-international-but.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116856491130813407</id><published>2007-01-12T00:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-12T11:59:20.760Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i like it when my hair is wild and im not, it is freezing but sunny, im smiling and you are laughing, my glass is half full and yours is pint and a half, i like it when my mood is displaced but in a place where you can reach and hold. i like it when the world works, those little moments when everything makes sense and suddenly, well, it doesn't. i like it when we just keep going, spending an hour</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116856491130813407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116856491130813407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-like-it-when-my-hair-is-wild-and-im.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116847755972380146</id><published>2007-01-11T01:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T01:06:00.286Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>you were born, darling, now live with it.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847755972380146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847755972380146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/you-were-born-darling-now-live-with-it.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116847621530691516</id><published>2007-01-11T00:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T00:43:35.326Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>eu passei o ultimo mes dancando, e acordei dando bom dia pro mundo. nao foi sinal de felicidade extrema, foi acao objetiva: se eu fizer assim, me movo. agora dancando de novo, ainda, mexendo bracos e pernas descordenadas e vem alguma coisa. serotonina, talvez; cansaco, mais provavel. mas este algo me mantem em movimento e meu cerebro em contencao. porque, uma hora, tudo explode. enquanto isso, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847621530691516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847621530691516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/eu-passei-o-ultimo-mes-dancando-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116847136190807581</id><published>2007-01-10T23:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-10T23:22:41.910Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>tantas linguas. para filosofia, alemao. existencialismo, frances. nao dizer, ingles. para navegar, portugues. mas so' o espanhol serve para o tango. e vamos que a danca e' linda e boa e nos levara'.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847136190807581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847136190807581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/tantas-linguas.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116847081576163075</id><published>2007-01-10T23:05:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-01-10T23:17:33.960Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>para fer e jorge, para mim e pablo, para meus pais, para amantes, loucos, indecididos e decisoes. para o futuro, sem intervir ou palpitar, uma homenagem. na voz de chavela vargas - quem mais poderia. tropezamos, juntos. en el ultimo trago Tómate esta botella conmigo,en el último trago nos vamos.Quiero ver a que sabe tu olvidosin poner en mis ojos tus manos.Esta noche no voy a rogarte:ésta noche </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847081576163075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116847081576163075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/para-fer-e-jorge-para-mim-e-pablo-para_10.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116846905468754088</id><published>2007-01-10T22:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T00:08:08.550Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>the place is so small it suits me, its nice when you get smaller. you fit anywhere. and the cloud, my cloud, will have to stay outdoors.my ipod is back on my pocket and walking to stoke, then london fields and back to dalston, on a cold and starred evening, was just perfect. as if things were there only for me to see. but there weren't many, they were shy. im not, im ready for the storm, wanna </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116846905468754088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116846905468754088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/place-is-so-small-it-suits-me-its-nice.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116830171305804422</id><published>2007-01-09T00:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-09T00:37:30.000Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>eu gosto quando o ano comeca e politicos arregacam as mangas para mostrar servico. e nos fazer rir. eu gosto de rir quando o ano comeca. foi rapido, o brown, em demonstrar ultraje com a execucao de saddam. como se fosse surpresa, como se fosse novo, como se fosse. quando deixaram o ditador nas maos de um tribunal comum, ao inves de uma corte internacional, era obvio obvio o fim. mas nao para ele,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116830171305804422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116830171305804422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/eu-gosto-quando-o-ano-comeca-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116820734825127377</id><published>2007-01-07T21:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:09:05.263Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'you are neither unnatural nor abominable, nor mad. you are as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else, only you are unexplained as yet - you've got your niche in creation.'quote from the well of loneliness, a 1928 lesbian novel by english author radclyffe hall. it suits us, mostly if not related to sexuality.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820734825127377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820734825127377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/you-are-neither-unnatural-nor.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116820676408647163</id><published>2007-01-07T21:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:52:44.103Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>want to know how to live with 15 burned cds? without your computer/itunes? books from the library? only 7 knickers? one towel? pocket money? ask me how. i can advise. you can be happy, believe me. well, it's a different happiness, but still.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820676408647163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820676408647163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/want-to-know-how-to-live-with-15.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116820465152996326</id><published>2007-01-07T21:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:58:16.500Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>tempo de citacoes, parece.   i keep looking for a place to fitwhere i can speak my mindi've been trying hard to find the peoplethat i won't leave behindthey say i got brainsbut they ain't doing me no goodi wish they couldeach time things start to happen againi think i got something good goin' for myselfbut what goes wrongsometimes i feel very sadsometimes i feel very sad(can't find nothin' i can </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820465152996326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116820465152996326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/tempo-de-citacoes-parece.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116817836671556514</id><published>2007-01-07T13:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T14:47:23.603Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>os anos oitenta foram, os noventa tambem, e passamos ja' da metade dos 2000. onde a decada foi parar, nao vi. nem o que fizemos com todas as expectativas que o ano 2000 trazia consigo - o futuro chegaria com ele. e seria brilhante e prospero e tecnologico. mas blade runner tinha razao. o futuro e' a volta ao passado. um western sem o charme das botas. continuamos na idade media, enforcando </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116817836671556514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116817836671556514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/os-anos-oitenta-foram-os-noventa.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116812764068397137</id><published>2007-01-06T23:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-06T23:54:00.696Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>foi com um prazer cinico que passei por arvores mortas jogadas na calcada esta manha - aquilo, que ate' poucos dias se chamava pinheiro de natal, aquelas bolas e coisas brilhantes penduradas. presenciei o pai com o garotinho numa licao unica de estupidez, 'ajuda papai a jogar esta arvore que matamos ali no meio da rua, depois alguem recolhe'. tem um cemiterio de arvores no clissold park, avisei o</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116812764068397137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116812764068397137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/foi-com-um-prazer-cinico-que-passei.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116794940461827012</id><published>2007-01-04T22:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T22:24:30.673Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>mas talvez, foulcault falou e eu acredito, nao exista mesmo normalidade. madness faz tao parte da civilizacao quanto civilizacao ela mesma. ou mais, porque legitima um requisito fundamental da civilizacao: a ideia de que estamos tudo e todos bem, no caminho do progresso. afinal, somos opostos aos outros, os loucos. a unica forma de medir a ordem e' pela desordem. vejam so', como sou/somos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116794940461827012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116794940461827012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/mas-talvez-foulcault-falou-e-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116794526874843185</id><published>2007-01-04T21:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-04T21:14:28.763Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>(...) 'aparentemente, mexer no dedao do pe nao era ambicao ou obsessao, mas fungo. foi o que ela me disse na segunda vez que saimos para tomar um drinque antes de acabar na minha casa. estranha, esta garota que conheci, pensei no terceiro dia enquanto mandava uma mensagem de celular que ela nunca respondeu.' (...)uma historinha que comeca mais ou menos assim - e nao termina ainda - parou em mim </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116794526874843185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116794526874843185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116770234030788436</id><published>2007-01-02T01:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-02T01:45:40.323Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>que nesse ano novo eu nao pertenca a lugar algum, a ser algum, a ideal algum. que seja vazio de amarras, cheio de expectativas que levem a lugar algum, nunca lugar comum. que seja uma linha torta, confusa, gratificante. que seja repleto de coisas velhas vestidas de novas. que seja ano meu, no meu tempo e de acordo com as minhas vontades. que tenha do meu lado quem nao possa me carregar porque me </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116770234030788436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116770234030788436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/que-nesse-ano-novo-eu-nao-pertenca.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116769809242493093</id><published>2007-01-02T00:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-02T00:34:52.443Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ela disse que o chicote era legal, que as pessoas eram, que a musica era.ela disse que um mes e' pouco. ela disse que quer se conhecer.ela disse que nao precisa ser o fim, mas o comeco.ela disse que viu a mulher desnorteada num cartaz de desaparecidos.ela disse que se fosse ela ajudava.ela disse que love e' a melhor musica para ouvir hoje. e pulp, simple life and simple people.ela disse whatever,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116769809242493093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116769809242493093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2007/01/ela-disse-que-o-chicote-era-legal-que.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116753370295218646</id><published>2006-12-31T02:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-31T02:55:02.966Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>'I don't agree with a single word that you said, and, what is more, Harry, I feel sure you don't either.'Lord Henry stroked his pointed brown beard, and tapped the toe of his patent-leather boot with a tasseled ebony cane. 'How english you are, Basil! That is the second time you have made that observation. If one puts forward an idea of a true englishman - always a rash thing to do - he never </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753370295218646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753370295218646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-dont-agree-with-single-word-that-you.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116753209407891813</id><published>2006-12-31T02:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-31T02:28:14.096Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Somethin' filled upmy heart with nothin',someone told me not to cry.But now that I'm older,my heart's colder,and I can see that it's a lie.Children wake up,hold your mistake up,before they turn the summer into dust.If the children don't grow up,our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.We're just a million little god's causin rain storms turnin' every good thing torust.I guess we'll just </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753209407891813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753209407891813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/somethin-filled-up-my-heart-with.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116753001314213425</id><published>2006-12-31T01:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-31T01:53:33.143Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And happiness when you are not.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753001314213425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116753001314213425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/and-happiness-when-you-are-not.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116752994946367273</id><published>2006-12-31T01:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-31T01:52:29.476Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>loneliness usually strikes when you are smiling.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116752994946367273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116752994946367273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/loneliness-usually-strikes-when-you.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116752761175353983</id><published>2006-12-31T00:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-31T01:13:31.766Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>new year, new saints, new demons, new music, new people, new dress, new address, new mood, new work, new course, new projects, new thinking, new left, new old fashion, new drink, new mirror, new film, new book, new art, new colour, new hair, new ways to get nowhere, new vice, new ideals, new words, new worlds. but, she thinks, if i just stay here sipping my beer quietly i might not notice the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116752761175353983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116752761175353983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/new-year-new-saints-new-demons-new.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116738744707658981</id><published>2006-12-29T10:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-29T10:17:27.090Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>messy is how you look when you are reorganizing.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116738744707658981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116738744707658981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/messy-is-how-you-look-when-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116657829085137083</id><published>2006-12-20T01:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-12-22T21:12:08.273Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>faz frio, tem fog por todo lado, nao existe familia no meu natal, meu cabelo amanheceu selvagem, a lista de coisas para fazer e' imensa. tudo muito bem se o meu coracao estivesse batendo como um cardiologista recomendaria. nao esta'. meu coracao bate como o de um adolescente gordinho com taquicardia depois da aula de educacao fisica na escola, e depois pa'ra como o de uma senhora que cansou por </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116657829085137083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116657829085137083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/12/faz-frio-tem-fog-por-todo-lado-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-116311002004319832</id><published>2006-11-09T22:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-09T22:07:00.056Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ela diz que hoje apos o trabalho ela pega a estrada sem rumo. diz que vai so', com seu ipod e quatro mil musicas. sem rumo. quatro mil musicas.ela diz que nunca morou so' e que anda dificil respirar sem o aparelho.ela diz que quando olhou pela janela viu um homem pegando fogo e nenhuma ambulancia.ela diz que o mundo e' redondo e que ela vai dar a volta completa, mesmo quando os cientistas avisam </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116311002004319832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/116311002004319832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/11/ela-diz-que-hoje-apos-o-trabalho-ela.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-114998539387597213</id><published>2006-06-11T00:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-06-11T00:29:02.233Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ressaca pos aniversario, numa festa que comecou com criancas e terminou com uma sujeira danada, ignorei solenemente o estado da casa, tomei banho, coloquei um vestido, pulei garrafas e fui pro mercado de flores. comprei cactus e ervas, encontrei amigos num bar, fui trabalhar. entre estes compromissos inadiaveis, ouvi as senhoras negras em roupa de missa de domingo: he told me he respects every </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/114998539387597213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/114998539387597213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/06/ressaca-pos-aniversario-numa-festa-que.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-114536842923439543</id><published>2006-04-18T13:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-04-18T13:53:49.246Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/114536842923439543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/114536842923439543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-113400338289242176</id><published>2005-12-08T00:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-08T00:56:22.906Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sem glamour algum, me recuperando de uma gripe que tinha tudo para me matar mas resolveu me poupar por puro sadomasoquismo, enjoada de remedios tomados em excesso e sem prescricao, vestindo uma meia-calca azul, blusao e manta, me arrasto ate' a cozinha para abrir os trabalhos. um baileys combina com tudo isso, e' cremoso e vai fazer eu me sentir bem. mas nao tem gelo, entao me pego fazendo algo </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113400338289242176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113400338289242176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/12/sem-glamour-algum-me-recuperando-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-113293698175667507</id><published>2005-11-25T16:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-25T16:44:13.116Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>where are you from? foram seis vezes hoje. fosse so' isso, tudo bem. mas em seguida vem um inquerito que descobri como terminar: enough information? porque alguem que vai de um lugar a outro deve ter um objetivo. e o objetivo deve dar pistas sobre o lugar. no fundo, e' tentativa de descobrir mais sobre eles do que sobre mim.a alianca que nao tenho me faz ter que responder sem vontade com uma </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113293698175667507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113293698175667507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/11/where-are-you-from-foram-seis-vezes.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-113104267725924396</id><published>2005-11-03T18:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-03T18:31:17.273Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>os telhados, como eu gosto daqueles de vidro, que estracalham com barulho e cacos para todos os lados. a outra modalidade de telhados sao os de palha, que recebem as pedradas de forma mais silenciosa - mas nao existem telhados 'a prova delas. geralmente os que se beneficiam de telhados do segundo tipo sao aqueles que atiram pedras mais sutis, ou mesmo que guardam a moralidade embaixo do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113104267725924396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113104267725924396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/11/os-telhados-como-eu-gosto-daqueles-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-113025125654807832</id><published>2005-10-25T14:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-10-25T14:40:56.556Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>andemo a ombra, no veneto, significa vamos para um bar. ombra - sombra - e' vinho, servido em copos e nao calices, no balcao. e giro a ombra e' o equivalente a pub crawl e foi o que fizemos no nosso segundo dia, depois de horas e quilometros de bienal de veneza. entre as enotecas pelas quais passamos, dificil dizer qual a mais perfeita. talvez o melhor seja o conceito: uma vida mais mansa entre </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113025125654807832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/113025125654807832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/10/andemo-ombra-no-veneto-significa-vamos.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112975274129761359</id><published>2005-10-19T20:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-10-19T20:12:21.303Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>em troca do love mail que recebi, e de outro super querido, ambos de conhecidas desconhecidas, prossigo, em nome da polemica.sobre o plebiscito, entendo o sim, e nao vejo o que um cidadao do bem pretende com uma arma na mao. fica parecendo com os outros, os cidadaos do mal. depois que toda esta perda de tempo passar, a gente pode continuar em paz discutindo como a corrupcao esta' por toda parte, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112975274129761359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112975274129761359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/10/em-troca-do-love-mail-que-recebi-e-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112741136739175603</id><published>2005-09-22T17:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-09-22T17:49:27.396Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>carta aberta sobre o que nunca aconteceu. nao exige desculpas, nao promete futuro, nem discute o vivido. o que nunca aconteceu e' possibilidade, promessa. promessa e' como desejo, mas so' como. porque promessa tem mais a ver com possibilidade do que com realizacao. e de possibilidades, vivemos, preenchemos bolhas de sonhos. e com realizacoes, convivemos. mal e porcamente. ou: nem tudo precisa </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112741136739175603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112741136739175603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/09/carta-aberta-sobre-o-que-nunca.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112544211921990580</id><published>2005-08-30T22:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-30T22:48:39.223Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>pois temos mercadinhos de turcos e chineses aqui no bairro. ou tinhamos. hoje conversando com os de olhos puxados e rostos arredondados, descobri que sao afegaos. foi a ultima descoberta sobre pessoas dos arredores - antes conheci melhor o john, que mora do outra lado da rua do pub, recem viuvo, com tres filhas pequenas em casa de um total de sete. e tem o bob, que te abraca carinhosamente demais</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112544211921990580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112544211921990580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/pois-temos-mercadinhos-de-turcos-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112510675841510892</id><published>2005-08-27T01:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-27T01:53:38.240Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>segunda choveu, eu trabalhei. terca fez sol, estava off. quarta choveu, eu trabalhei. quinta eu nao ia trabalhar, fazia sol. me ligaram, choveu. e hoje, sexta, fez sol ate' o momento de estacionar minha bicicleta na frente do trabalho, e entao choveu. nao que eu ache que o homem do tempo esteja loucamente brincando com o clima de sete milhoes de pessoas em londres so' para me agradar. mas, putz, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112510675841510892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112510675841510892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/segunda-choveu-eu-trabalhei.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112479097838633852</id><published>2005-08-23T09:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-23T09:56:18.390Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>eu nao espero que o mundo seja justo, passei dos 16 ha' bastante tempo. mas um minimo de coerencia me dou ao luxo de exigir. nao de mim, claro, mas do governo. porque nunca me vendi como nada e quem me comprou gosta assim. mas diferentemente das gentes, os governos tem que exercer politicas baseadas em certa ordem moral e etica. entao e' com confusao que olho para os meninos em seus cachos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112479097838633852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112479097838633852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/eu-nao-espero-que-o-mundo-seja-justo.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112472708091946908</id><published>2005-08-22T15:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-22T16:11:20.926Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ei li muita literatura infanto-juvenil, por conta de um tio que me presenteava colecoes inteiras. outro dia, que foi ha' muitos meses - e essa aparente contradicao tem acontecido com cada vez mais frequencia - tentamos listar numa mesa de bar alguns. o misterio do cinco estrelas, citei, gerando comocao entre os trintoes e os quase-la'. depois falamos de genius, albuns de figurinhas, cubo magico e</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112472708091946908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112472708091946908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/ei-li-muita-literatura-infanto-juvenil.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112461928774575994</id><published>2005-08-21T10:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-21T10:14:47.750Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o mar, um horizonte verde e montanhoso, pessoas se movendo sobre uma ponte, o almoco cercado por sorrisos conhecidos. entre as melhores paisagens, a eleita e' a de ontem: o design genetico perfeito e caotico das pintas nas costas dele.depois de dois dias perfeitos, com um filme bom e outro excepcional com o muso javier bardem (the sea inside), risadas, namoro, caminhadas, e mais um irmao que </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112461928774575994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112461928774575994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/o-mar-um-horizonte-verde-e-montanhoso.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112439835910774221</id><published>2005-08-18T20:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-18T20:52:39.106Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ouvindo franz ferdinand, agora, sei porque o verao nao veio neste verao. faltou disco novo.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439835910774221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439835910774221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/ouvindo-franz-ferdinand-agora-sei.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112439783245195565</id><published>2005-08-18T20:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-18T20:43:52.456Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>eu nao corri, nunca corro da reconciliacao, mas andei rapido sem olhar para tras. me deixa, pensei, mas nao tinha ele atras, me seguindo como sempre, e nao tinha ligacao no dia nem na semana seguinte. nao tinha nada. corri disso, do vazio que ficou depois da minha ultima frase. foi assim: 'eu nao sei como resolver isso...', com reticencias, mas nem todo mundo entende portugues e o burro achou que</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439783245195565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439783245195565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/eu-nao-corri-nunca-corro-da.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112439636249591221</id><published>2005-08-18T20:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-18T20:50:37.856Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>tem o yes men, mas nao tente ser uma yes girl for a day. no, no, never ever. comece por onde e' possivel: a smiling girl. de um modo geral, vao te sorrir de volta. algumas vezes vao te chamar de p#, te convidar para coisas esquisitas. nao responda, voce nao responde, voce apenas sorri, voce e' a smiling girl. em poucas ocasioes, bem poucas - e voce nem vai dar bola para isso - se voce falar bom </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439636249591221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112439636249591221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/tem-o-yes-men-mas-nao-tente-ser-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112394623826136210</id><published>2005-08-13T15:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-13T15:21:23.696Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>entre comecar a busca e o silencio acabar, passou tanto tempo que eu ja' estava achando que nunca mais teria uma entrevista, que dira' emprego. na quarta passada recebi a primeira ligacao e de la' para ca' foram cinco entrevistas, mais uma marcada para segunda e um trial para terca ou quarta. uma profissional requisitada no mercado, de uma hora para outra. pode ter sido o santo expedito, ou o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112394623826136210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112394623826136210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/entre-comecar-busca-e-o-silencio.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112379420935764518</id><published>2005-08-11T20:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-11T21:03:29.363Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o cabelo ja' foi ruivo e foi loiro e curto e teve franja e foi de tanto jeito que e' para brincar mesmo com a ideia de que um dia nao vai mais existir. queria jogar para um lado e outro, reinventar sem medo todas as outras coisas que tambem um dia nao vao mais existir. no final das contas, sao todas - inclusive a vida. se e' que nao e' exatamente isso que eu tenho feito.tem mae que e' cega, e o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112379420935764518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112379420935764518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/o-cabelo-ja-foi-ruivo-e-foi-loiro-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112340583299199006</id><published>2005-08-07T09:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-07T09:10:33.090Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ha' dois anos, lideres religiosos de uma mesquita no sul de londres comunicaram a policia que hussein osman, o homem das bombas que nao explodiram em sheperd's bush, estrava incitando odio racial e acoes extremistas. disseram que estavam se sentido intimidados e pressionados a adotar posicoes radicais. semanas antes dos atentados a arabia saudita avisou formalmente o reino unido que tinham </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112340583299199006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112340583299199006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/ha-dois-anos-lideres-religiosos-de-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112332062403476683</id><published>2005-08-06T09:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-06T09:30:24.040Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>como nos eua, comecaram a aparar a cerca verde das liberdades individuais para, dizem, nos proteger coletivamente. diria que protege tambem certos individuos da critica. blair anunciou que os novos motivos para deportação vão incluir a disseminação do ódio, a defesa da violência para avançar as crenças de uma pessoa ou a justificação ou a validação de tal violência. entao nao da' mais pra falar, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112332062403476683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112332062403476683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/como-nos-eua-comecaram-aparar-cerca.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112318726174715659</id><published>2005-08-04T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-08-04T21:17:53.073Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>no ebay, eu ja' sabia, se consegue de tudo. mas tem gente que exagera, vide e-mail do cara que me vendeu uma bicicleta:Hello Consuelo, I hope you don't mind me sending this to you and I trust you are happy with the folding bike which you collected on 23rd July. Please do let me know if there are any problems with it. My son Carl was away on business in San Francisco at that time and has just </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112318726174715659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112318726174715659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/08/no-ebay-eu-ja-sabia-se-consegue-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112272632985391917</id><published>2005-07-30T12:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-30T12:25:29.860Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>nem parece, mas foi a gente que inventou esta obra perfeita, vertical e alongada, caotica e contida, organizada e barulhenta, viva e limitada, este minimundo pelo qual andamos, conhecemos pessoas, vamos a lugares que gostamos, lemos sobre outros minimundos que parecem melhor, ou pior, mas sao o mesmo. as cidades sao uma obra-prima.o catavento gira na janela com o mesmo vento que passa por </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112272632985391917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112272632985391917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/nem-parece-mas-foi-gente-que-inventou.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112266282931555756</id><published>2005-07-29T18:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-29T18:50:09.886Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>foi hoje de manha, quando eu li que estava acompanhada, que comecei a me sentir so'. mario sergio conti publica no nominimo uma carta bigama: de amor 'a filha e 'a cidade em que moraram nos ultimos tres anos, paris. nao mais - estao indo embora, por escolha e com uma pitada de contragosto. e' com este sentimento dubio que me identifico. as minhas escolhas sao assim, felizes e nao. o preterido </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112266282931555756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112266282931555756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/foi-hoje-de-manha-quando-eu-li-que.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112238764471329229</id><published>2005-07-26T14:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-26T14:42:36.190Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>vida de supporting actress. ontem foi assim: "voce ainda nao me contou no que trabalha", falou o gordo sentado no bar, com uma cerveja na frente e duas garotas de biquini dos lados. "se eu tivesse dito teria que te matar", o outro respondeu, abrindo o casaco e deixando aparecer uma arma presa no peito. enquanto isso, o rosto dele se transformava em algo entre confuso e irritado, talvez proposital</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112238764471329229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112238764471329229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/vida-de-supporting-actress.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112214801083205655</id><published>2005-07-23T19:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-23T19:46:50.836Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a policia matando o cara com tiros na cabeca ate' parecia brasil. e era.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112214801083205655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112214801083205655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/policia-matando-o-cara-com-tiros-na.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112212511505926386</id><published>2005-07-23T12:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-23T13:25:15.066Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>nao vamos acreditar que toda critica e' destrutiva. existe um vacuo, pouco confortavel, entre estar com a gente ou contra a gente. vou sentar neste espaco. me dou ao luxo, e ao direito, de usar 'mas'.a bicicleta estava prevista, e veio na hora certa. hoje fui buscar minha compra do ebay, numa cidadezinha distante 60 minutos de londres. de metro e depois trem. o cara que sentou do meu lado trazia </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112212511505926386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112212511505926386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/nao-vamos-acreditar-que-toda-critica-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112207414266155536</id><published>2005-07-22T23:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-22T23:15:42.660Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>nao pode, eu sei. fizeram com que pareca conivente. mas nao e', nao sou. desocupem o iraque, nao pelos homens bomba, nao por medo, mas porque foi TUDO ilegal desde o comeco. fim da farsa, a nossa. e entao vamos exigir o fim da farsa, a deles. conivente e' o silencio.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112207414266155536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112207414266155536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/nao-pode-eu-sei.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112207360695121042</id><published>2005-07-22T22:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-22T23:06:46.956Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o salario vai aumentar, o tempo melhorar, a vida ser melhor e mais longa, todo mundo vir visitar, sol um mes sem parar, melhores discos e bandas virao, uma exposicao imperdivel. ja' notou como te empurram sempre pra um futuro que chega nunca?chega. nunca.ja' notou que a gente vai ter que se acostumar com o que ha'? e o que ha'? ja' pensou no que a gente vai ter que se acostumar com? vai ter que </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112207360695121042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112207360695121042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/o-salario-vai-aumentar-o-tempo.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112197745238306880</id><published>2005-07-21T19:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-21T20:26:48.150Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>primeiro, o post era para ser sobre futilidades. depois, sobre love and other disasters, o filme, que apesar de besta nao se encaixa no meu post sobre futilidades. mas agora me obrigo a escrever sobre a chatice e o baixo astral que e' tudo isso de odio e bombas e violencia. de todos os tipos. ontem na whitechapel, seis da tarde, tinha de um lado aqueles que tem um cheiro misto de urina e alcool, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112197745238306880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112197745238306880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/primeiro-o-post-era-para-ser-sobre.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112090364708980579</id><published>2005-07-09T10:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-09T10:07:27.096Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sindrome de estocolmo: londres ainda e' o melhor lugar do mundo hoje. amanha, nao. eu vou viver numa comunidade na italia, trocando alfaces por cenoura, escrevendo livros infantis enquanto o pablo pinta golfinhos.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112090364708980579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112090364708980579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/sindrome-de-estocolmo-londres-ainda-e.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112083220903636640</id><published>2005-07-08T14:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-08T14:16:49.040Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>senao hoje, quando? entao um pouco de sentimentalismo. sobrevivemos, o que nao quer dizer que estamos bem. nao entendo as pessoas pegando o metro para ir trabalhar com corpos ainda dentro da estacao de russel square. explico: corpos sao o que viram as gentes depois da vida. a contabilidade pouco importa, passou dos 45 e chegou aos 50, vai passar dos 50 mas nao chega a 100. no iraque nem sabemos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112083220903636640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112083220903636640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/senao-hoje-quando-entao-um-pouco-de.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112074636074512763</id><published>2005-07-07T14:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-07T14:26:00.750Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>blair, tentando renascer das cinzas, coberto novamente por ela. pode virar fenix ou pode virar po'. foi tudo tao bem orquestrado: a campanha make poverty history, a determinacao de conseguir empenho dos demais lideres do G8 em relacao ao clima, a amizade com brown, e com geldof, os concertos simultaneos, tudo corria perfeitamente. o futuro prometia a construcao de um novo lider (sic, sic), bravo,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112074636074512763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112074636074512763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/blair-tentando-renascer-das-cinzas.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112074445460422943</id><published>2005-07-07T13:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-07T14:00:53.163Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ontem foi um dia cheio. foi uma briga para conseguir alugar onibus que nos levassem para gleneagles, outra para que os policiais nos deixassem sair de edimburgo, outra para conseguir passar em frente ao hotel onde os lideres do G8 comecavam suas reunioes. perdemos a ultima. chovia e minha voz sumiu junto com os gritos de guerra. foi frustrante, em parte. o ativista grego que participa dos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112074445460422943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112074445460422943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/ontem-foi-um-dia-cheio.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112073181710975966</id><published>2005-07-07T10:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-07T10:23:37.110Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>hoje foi nosso turno. nao vai ter comemoracao pelos jogos olimpicos, nem vai ter atencao para as resolucoes do G8. de gleneagles, blair vai nos dizer: eu tinha razao. e quem vai conseguir retrucar que nao? pelo menos seis explosoes no centro de londres, duas delas em onibus e as outras no metro. foi uma acao orquestrada, com data escolhida meticulosamente. todo o sistema de transporte esta' </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112073181710975966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112073181710975966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/hoje-foi-nosso-turno.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112065583762174643</id><published>2005-07-06T13:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-07T10:17:20.586Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A consu ligou e pediu para postar. Isso eh um trabalho em equipe, por assim dizer. Ela esta no meio das manifestacoes ao encontro do G8 em Gleneagles, na Escocia e segundo as fotos no Guardian a coisa esta esquentando, com a policia arrastando os meninos da rua. Ela conta que foi dificil chegar la. A empresa de onibus que estava transportando os manifestantes, contratada pelo G8 Alternative e o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112065583762174643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112065583762174643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/consu-ligou-e-pediu-para-postar.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112059325311630565</id><published>2005-07-05T19:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-05T19:56:08.150Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>the waverley e' um daqueles lugares para os quais voce nao deve voltar, nunca, para nao estragar a memoria: teto bordo escuro com cartazes muito velhos colados, paredes com coisas de outra vida, sofas e cadeiras confortaveis, jazz baixinho. um bar esquecido pelo tempo e pela clientela. a filha do dono, grande como um gigante pequeno, cuidava cautelosamente do lugar, polindo copos e esquecendo do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112059325311630565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112059325311630565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/waverley-e-um-daqueles-lugares-para-os.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112057367253487034</id><published>2005-07-05T14:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-05T14:27:52.540Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o dia hoje e' de descanso. ja' tenho meu tiquete de onibus para ir para gleneagles amanha. vao sair entre 40 e 50 onibus de edimburgo, outros tantos de glasgow, aberdeen, dundee e inverness. a ideia e' passar pela frente do hotel, mas ja' disseram que nao pode. e ontem ja' demonstraram que se eles dizem que nao pode, nao pode mesmo. mas vao estar p[resentes no evento politicos, membros de ongs e </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112057367253487034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112057367253487034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/o-dia-hoje-e-de-descanso.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112051276073408033</id><published>2005-07-04T20:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-05T10:39:39.916Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o dia comecou quando descobri que o hotel mais friendly que eu ja' fiquei na minha vida nao apenas era muito perto da praia, mas estava na beira dela. foi so' circular para as costas do predio, todo de pedra, e descer um gramado verde. mar, brisa, caes e pessoas que dao bom dia e sorriem quando passam. ali a pequena consu, meu alter-mini-ego, se manifestou sordidamente. se a minha tarde nao </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112051276073408033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112051276073408033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/o-dia-comecou-quando-descobri-que-o.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112050977381659791</id><published>2005-07-04T20:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-05T10:46:19.320Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>riot girl. voltei e nao tinha como entrar na manifestacao. de novo, achei que pelo lado oposto teria como. contornei umas cinco quadras e segui para la'. a policia estava evacuando todo mundo, encurralando num circulo cada vez menor o carnival of full enjoyment, e movendo cavalos, cachorros e policia de choque para dentro. eles contruiram - mesmo - portoes em duas das entradas para a "festa". </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112050977381659791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112050977381659791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/riot-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112049053941190694</id><published>2005-07-04T14:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-04T15:23:45.693Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>hoje, antes de ontem. estava marcado para o meio-dia o carnival of full enjoyment. mas eles nao tinham autorizacao para a festa, na princess street, uma das principais vias de edimburgo. como a oxford street esta' para londres, a rua da praia para porto alegre e a paulista para sao paulo. a policia ja' tinha dito que a festa nao tinha autorizacao, e esperava que anarquistas - palavras deles - </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112049053941190694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112049053941190694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/hoje-antes-de-ontem.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112032937183100979</id><published>2005-07-02T17:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-02T18:36:11.840Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o onibus deixou londres como se fosse para uma daquelas de viagens escolares de final de ano, de cada mochila saia uma maca ou uma cerveja, todo mundo escutava musica, e tinha aquele clima festivo no ar. a diferenca e' que a faixa etaria era trinta anos, e o destino nao era a praia, mas edimburgo.chegamos atrasados porque o assistente do motorista passou mal e ficamos uma hora parados num buteco </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112032937183100979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112032937183100979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/o-onibus-deixou-londres-como-se-fosse.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112024416056047863</id><published>2005-07-01T18:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-01T18:56:00.560Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>inventario. eu tenho um walkman, um monte de cds piratas, um cabideiro anos setenta vermelho, sete cactus, um ficus chamado matilda, um pimenteiro, tres pares de tenis e 35 leitores. cinco ou seis deles eu sei quem sao. culpa minha - nem comments meu blog tem. mas prefiro matildas 'a ficus, entao se vc nao se importar, me escreve. quero conhecer os outros 29.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112024416056047863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112024416056047863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/inventario.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644507.post-112024373928093492</id><published>2005-07-01T18:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-07-01T19:18:02.106Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a historia geralmente passa longe, as vezes passa quase perto. desta vez passa perto demais e vou encontra-la. manifestacoes e g8 devem dizer pouco para quase todo mundo, nao para mim. entao vai ser muito bom ver ao vivo o que sempre vi pelos jornais e internet. tem muita gente se organizando para trazer contra-ideias, e outras tantas para que estas ideias sejam ouvidas. vou ser mais uma, ouvindo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112024373928093492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3644507/posts/default/112024373928093492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://microfone.blogspot.com/2005/07/historia-geralmente-passa-longe-as.html' title=''/><author><name>consuelo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
