tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13990286424080363892011-04-21T20:57:58.489-03:00Fernandanoreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1399028642408036389.post-293090684128781692007-07-14T03:42:00.000-03:002007-07-14T03:43:50.559-03:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Pra quê? Sempre mais.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1399028642408036389-29309068412878169?l=worldwaits.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fernandanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1399028642408036389.post-24235659686858914612007-06-09T01:10:00.000-03:002007-06-09T01:22:50.244-03:00<em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>"I know that you love me, you don't say it, but i know you do."</strong></span></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">Is it fate's irony? Two different people said this thing to me TODAY. I must rethink about talk or not about myself feelings. i'm getting a cold person and it's not such a good thing actually. Sad about myself.</span></div><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I wanna tell you this, this is all I can say, this is all i have.</span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">By the grace of god, by the grace of god you know you know you know i am.</span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">How bitter fucking sweet, how bitter fucking sweet it is i wanna tell you this. </span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">This is all that i can say, this is all that i can take, this is all that i can give.</span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I wanna tell i wanna tell ya - this is all i have...</span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">I wanna show i wanna show ya everything i have. </span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I wanna tell i wanna tell ya - this is all i have, this is all i have.</span> </span></strong></em><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1399028642408036389-2423565968685891461?l=worldwaits.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fernandanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1399028642408036389.post-9546531865137431462007-06-07T00:20:00.000-03:002007-06-07T00:39:21.399-03:00<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Ela estava completamente absorvida pela vida dele, tinha um caderno de anotações. Nele, ela anotava tudo que seria necessário para ter uma vida confortável no futuro. Ela achava que realmente gostava dele. Ele parecia gostar dela também, apesar de ser um rapaz fechado de raríssimas palavras. Numa convivência a dois, podia se notar de fora o motivo da união aleatória de duas pessoas tão diferentes. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">"Isso não vai funcionar" diz ele pra ela. "Você tem de ir."</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Mesmo sem entender, faz suas malas no mais sombrio silêncio, vai embora. De ônibus. Sem destino.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Apesar do choro contido, ela guardaria boas lembranças daquela fase esquisita da sua vida.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Pegou seu caderno de anotações, e quando o abriu, percebeu a imensa quantidade de cartas escritas por ele para ela que nunca foram entregues; cartas essas, que falavam o que ela sempre soube apesar de nunca ter ouvido.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Ela chorou.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Ele realmente gostava dela e não sabia demonstrar.</span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1399028642408036389-954653186513743146?l=worldwaits.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Fernandanoreply@blogger.com