<?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-12827973</id><updated>2012-01-12T18:58:13.776-02:00</updated><title type='text'>BILALOG</title><subtitle type='html'>O blog da Bila.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>55</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-2160421804544935640</id><published>2010-05-31T02:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T02:24:57.666-03:00</updated><title type='text'>desconectados</title><summary type='text'>Palavras são, com muita certeza nessa minha cabeça incerta, as mais traiçoeiras das coisas do mundo.E também as mais lindas.As não ditas então... Estão dentro de mim, estão dentro de você, mas não estão entre nós.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/2160421804544935640/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=2160421804544935640' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/2160421804544935640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/2160421804544935640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2010/05/desconectados.html' title='desconectados'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-1377445560862156102</id><published>2009-08-15T15:48:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T16:46:26.982-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>acabei de escrever um post eu, mas perdi. Tecnologia de merda.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/1377445560862156102/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=1377445560862156102' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1377445560862156102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1377445560862156102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/08/acabei-de-escrever-um-post-eu-mas-perdi.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-425984412066875391</id><published>2009-03-28T23:55:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T23:57:21.353-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>E de repente me senti feliz. Exatamente às 23:50 de hoje comecei a me sentir livre. E daí, feliz. Que estranha eu sou.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/425984412066875391/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=425984412066875391' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/425984412066875391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/425984412066875391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/e-de-repente-me-senti-feliz.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-5192322699400555895</id><published>2009-03-28T15:24:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T15:51:39.158-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sem saber por onde comecar ela resolveu comecar dali mesmo de onde estava, no fim. As lagrimas nos olhos impediam a visao clara. E as teclas do computador mais pareciam manchas negras cheias de bolor. Tentava ler seu texto, ditar pra si mesma pra tentar ajudar as palavras a se acharem. Mas sua voz tremula, e baixa, e rouca, e fraca nao chamava nada. As paredes sem quadros da sua nova casa, que </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/5192322699400555895/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=5192322699400555895' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5192322699400555895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5192322699400555895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/sem-saber-por-onde-comecar-ela-resolveu.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-679749347940311189</id><published>2009-03-28T14:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T14:47:18.375-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Obrigada, Leticia Ono.</title><summary type='text'>The Chestnut Tree, de Hyun Ming Lee (Vídeo visto originalmente em http://blog.hiro.art.br)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/679749347940311189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=679749347940311189' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/679749347940311189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/679749347940311189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/obrigada-leticia-ono.html' title='Obrigada, Leticia Ono.'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-885935383643278404</id><published>2009-03-28T13:36:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T13:38:28.793-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sentimentos</title><summary type='text'>Angustia eh quando o Diabo enfia a mao no seu peito e fica apertando o seu coracao por alguns minutos. Olhando no seu olho. E voce nao sabe se ele vai solta-lo ou esmaga-lo de vez.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/885935383643278404/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=885935383643278404' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/885935383643278404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/885935383643278404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/sentimentos.html' title='sentimentos'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-8908338967843935434</id><published>2009-03-23T13:35:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T13:41:33.885-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Que minutos insuportáveis. Tomara que nao passe de minutos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/8908338967843935434/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=8908338967843935434' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8908338967843935434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8908338967843935434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/que-minutos-insuportaveis.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-1258809085967736409</id><published>2009-03-19T18:30:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T08:51:16.066-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O amor: um tapete preto no meio da sala</title><summary type='text'>Ela acordou e, como sempre, se voltou para o lado esquerdo para abraçar o corpo magricelo do marido. Ainda meio sonolenta, passou o braço em volta da cintura dele e sentiu pelos. Sim, pelos. Abriu os olhos com preguiça e certeza de que tinha uma explicação para ter tido esta sensação - o gato, talvez, tivesse aberto a porta e subido na cama. Com as palpebras no meio dos olhos visualizou o que </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/1258809085967736409/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=1258809085967736409' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1258809085967736409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1258809085967736409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/ah-o-arnaldo.html' title='O amor: um tapete preto no meio da sala'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-5407397290899204758</id><published>2009-03-15T19:59:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:54:55.035-03:00</updated><title type='text'>PA LARVAS</title><summary type='text'>Minhas palavras sao como larvas.Se arrastam, deixam rastro, sao lentas, feias e causam repulsa. Se reproduzem.Consomem minha carne.As vezes viram bichos que voam.As vezes nao.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/5407397290899204758/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=5407397290899204758' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5407397290899204758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5407397290899204758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/pa-larvas.html' title='PA LARVAS'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-6530507814677603413</id><published>2009-03-15T19:28:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T19:58:35.622-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sem palavras ate para o titulo</title><summary type='text'>As palavras me dominam. O dia que elas querem sair de mim, me dao nausea e me fazem vomitar.O dia que nao querem, posso enfiar o dedo na garganta o quanto quiser.Elas adoram brincar comigo.Podem parar. Ja entendi que hoje eh dia de jogo de esconde-esconde.E eu me esqueci como se brinca.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/6530507814677603413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=6530507814677603413' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6530507814677603413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6530507814677603413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/jogo-de-esconde-esconde.html' title='sem palavras ate para o titulo'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-7418518368310842380</id><published>2009-03-15T19:14:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T19:25:57.672-03:00</updated><title type='text'>resposta ao Reinaldo</title><summary type='text'>estar triste eh estar vivo.tristeza eh uma presenca.depressao eh ausencia. Inexistencia. O nada.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/7418518368310842380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=7418518368310842380' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7418518368310842380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7418518368310842380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/resposta-ao-reinaldo.html' title='resposta ao Reinaldo'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-1585836472507535713</id><published>2009-03-07T21:45:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T02:36:02.852-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A menina da dor do bolo no labirinto</title><summary type='text'>era uma vez uma menina de 7 anos.7 anos de idade.7 anos de felicidade.Um dia, um pouco antes de fazer 8 anos (o que era o sonho dela, pois sempre gostara do numero 8, o numero que parece uma formiguinha) ela encontrou um bichinho. Um bichinho preto, feio, misterioso. Na verdade, foi o bichinho que encontrou a menina. Ela ficou olhando pra ele. E ele olhando pra ela. E apesar de seus olhos nao </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/1585836472507535713/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=1585836472507535713' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1585836472507535713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1585836472507535713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/menina-da-dor-do-bolo-no-labirinto.html' title='A menina da dor do bolo no labirinto'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-7905072555555512741</id><published>2009-03-06T23:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T00:35:00.290-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Love will tear us apart</title><summary type='text'>Ha quase 3 anos escrevi aqui um post de amor.Lindo, apesar de falar de capivaras e reunioes de escola.Este eh tambem um post de amor. Amor acabado.Acabado nao, mas amor impossivel, como na musica de Daniel Johnston. E nao eh impossivel porque um de nos seja inantingivel.Eh impossivel porque eh grande demais.E sufoca.Angustia.Sobe e desce 10 vezes por dia.Amor elevador. Mas nao eleva. So </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/7905072555555512741/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=7905072555555512741' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7905072555555512741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7905072555555512741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/love-will-tear-us-apart.html' title='Love will tear us apart'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-1642990151705723368</id><published>2009-03-06T17:37:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T17:37:31.244-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Só. Muito só.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/1642990151705723368/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=1642990151705723368' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1642990151705723368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1642990151705723368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/so.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-6540524066245740448</id><published>2009-03-05T20:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:22:48.311-03:00</updated><title type='text'>a procura de um milagre</title><summary type='text'>eu queria saber a area da cabeca que precisa ser atingida pra garantir amnesia recente.De preferencia com um counter de anos. Eu setaria no 3.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/6540524066245740448/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=6540524066245740448' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6540524066245740448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6540524066245740448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2009/03/procura-de-um-milagre.html' title='a procura de um milagre'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-458252617241896727</id><published>2008-11-26T08:24:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T08:30:32.913-02:00</updated><title type='text'>amor por sms</title><summary type='text'>Onde estão as demonstrações de amor? Não existem mais? Será que ficou fora de moda? Fazer grandes viagens para encontrar alguém, mandar uma banda fazer uma serenata debaixo da janela ou mesmo a mais simples de todas (que nao pode ser considerada de forma nenhuma uma loucura), mandar flores. não tenho visto. as pessoas querem conquistar outras na base do sms. sms "eu te amo". sms "volta pra mim, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/458252617241896727/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=458252617241896727' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/458252617241896727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/458252617241896727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/11/amor-por-sms.html' title='amor por sms'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-9027771799536439952</id><published>2008-11-25T16:49:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T17:43:36.106-02:00</updated><title type='text'>pre-natal infernal</title><summary type='text'>O visto da Gab saiu. muito bom. esta viagem sera otima pra ele. so que isso tambem significa que a partir do dia 6 estarei sozinha em casa. sera o pre-natal infernal. o jeito vai ser arrumar uma viagem entre natal e reveillon...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/9027771799536439952/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=9027771799536439952' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/9027771799536439952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/9027771799536439952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/11/pre-natal-infernal.html' title='pre-natal infernal'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-6845971860311973592</id><published>2008-11-25T09:33:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T09:36:23.167-02:00</updated><title type='text'>sem tatoo</title><summary type='text'>pronto. segunda que vem sera a minha primeira sessao para tirar esta tatuagem que nao faz mais sentido, independente do que aconteca. a moca disse que vai doer e ficar uma cicatriz grande. bom... nada que ja nao esteja acontecendo, entao. respondi.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/6845971860311973592/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=6845971860311973592' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6845971860311973592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6845971860311973592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/11/sem-tatoo.html' title='sem tatoo'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-4083474300508514533</id><published>2008-11-24T09:52:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T12:41:36.618-02:00</updated><title type='text'>natal infernal</title><summary type='text'>Então é isso.Minha casa bagunçada, minhas gavetas, minha vida.Começando de novo.Eu posso passar por isso. Eu sei, já passei por coisas piores.A dor maior é saber que tudo não passou de um sonho. Que poderia ter sido diferente, lindo especial. Que magoar alguém pode ser tão fácil, tolo, fútil, rápido.Que algo tão bom possa ser jogado no lixo assim, tão de repente.Isso me fez também ter o peso real</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/4083474300508514533/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=4083474300508514533' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/4083474300508514533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/4083474300508514533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/11/meu-proximo-natal.html' title='natal infernal'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-7922338006459132698</id><published>2008-11-18T10:22:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T10:22:54.098-02:00</updated><title type='text'>dias das mães</title><summary type='text'>Fiz uma idéia de mim como mãe. calma, paciente, amiga, engraçada.e às vezes me pego a mãe mais maluca do mundo.aconteceu hoje.gritando de manhã porque ele havia esquecido da apresentação do trabalho de inglês.desculpa, Gab. Fui tão tola.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/7922338006459132698/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=7922338006459132698' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7922338006459132698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/7922338006459132698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/11/dias-das-mes.html' title='dias das mães'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-3962890272887998920</id><published>2008-10-31T11:02:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T12:36:44.037-02:00</updated><title type='text'>bizarrices 1</title><summary type='text'>vejam só como as coisas são estranhas.Meu apelido, óbvio, é bila. quem colocou? rackel, minha irmã (aos 3 anos de idade).descobri numa pesquisa inocente no google que bila foi um concubina escolhida por raquel para seu marido jacó.:S</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/3962890272887998920/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=3962890272887998920' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3962890272887998920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3962890272887998920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/bila-e-raquel-ck.html' title='bizarrices 1'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-1319565106474452721</id><published>2008-10-31T10:35:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T10:58:47.279-02:00</updated><title type='text'>verdades</title><summary type='text'>nada pior do que tarde demais - bukowski.faz tempo que eu não lia nada que eu achasse tão verdade.que me tocasse tanto.nada pior do que tarde demais para você dizer que ama alguém.nada pior do que tarde demais quando você faz algo que não deveria ter feito.nada pior do que tarde demais para você passar mais tempo com seu filho.nada pior do que tarde demais para você estudar.nada pior do que tarde</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/1319565106474452721/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=1319565106474452721' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1319565106474452721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/1319565106474452721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/verdades.html' title='verdades'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-2864418411134187410</id><published>2008-10-22T20:03:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:31:51.583-02:00</updated><title type='text'>sem volta</title><summary type='text'>ao chegar em casa percebeu que havia perdido a chave. como? a chave fica no chaveiro do carro. deve estar dentro da bolsa. escova, carteira, papeis, chocolate, batons. ué, cheguei em casa, estacionei, onde posso ter perdido a chave... fez o caminho de volta até a garagem sem saber que não existe caminho de volta. principalmente para subterrâneos. elevador, corredor, garagem. nada da chave e agora</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/2864418411134187410/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=2864418411134187410' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/2864418411134187410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/2864418411134187410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/ao-chegar-em-casa-percebeu-que-havia.html' title='sem volta'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-3450857530578024353</id><published>2008-10-20T23:16:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T23:17:46.890-02:00</updated><title type='text'>segunda opcao</title><summary type='text'>Poderia ser tambem: o que voce faz ecoa tao forte em meus ouvidos que nao consigo ouvir o que voce diz.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/3450857530578024353/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=3450857530578024353' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3450857530578024353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3450857530578024353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/segunda-opcao.html' title='segunda opcao'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-5991545649326264583</id><published>2008-10-20T22:56:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T23:15:01.333-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Confucios somos nos!</title><summary type='text'>Ate que o Sol brilhe, acendamos uma vela na escuridao.Frase desse dia que insiste em nao raiar.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/5991545649326264583/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=5991545649326264583' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5991545649326264583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5991545649326264583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/confucios-somos-nos.html' title='Confucios somos nos!'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-8041568231083510783</id><published>2008-10-11T14:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T14:10:01.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'>É o fim!</title><summary type='text'>Gol contra nos 45 do segundo tempo? Pra que? Já é o fim mesmo...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/8041568231083510783/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=8041568231083510783' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8041568231083510783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8041568231083510783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-fim.html' title='É o fim!'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-161602624295508827</id><published>2008-09-26T18:14:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T18:14:52.461-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Então é isso? Foda-se!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/161602624295508827/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=161602624295508827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/161602624295508827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/161602624295508827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/09/ento-isso-foda-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-6682309742243399879</id><published>2008-08-08T08:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T08:51:37.878-03:00</updated><title type='text'>New SpringWidget</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!-- SpringWidgets | Regresso (#51793) | Blogger | Generated on 08/08/2008 --&gt;Get this widget!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/6682309742243399879/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=6682309742243399879' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6682309742243399879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/6682309742243399879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-springwidget_08.html' title='New SpringWidget'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-5869604753341315946</id><published>2008-08-07T20:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:23:18.012-03:00</updated><title type='text'>New SpringWidget</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!-- SpringWidgets | TresDoisUm (#51720) | Blogger | Generated on 08/07/2008 --&gt;Get this widget!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/5869604753341315946/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=5869604753341315946' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5869604753341315946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5869604753341315946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-springwidget.html' title='New SpringWidget'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-323278583093256558</id><published>2008-06-29T22:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T22:44:10.704-03:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss you</title><summary type='text'>Acordar e dormir sem você.Quem inventou isso?To sentindo muito a sua falta. Volta logo.Te amo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/323278583093256558/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=323278583093256558' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/323278583093256558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/323278583093256558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-miss-you.html' title='I miss you'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-8143118468488200851</id><published>2008-06-06T23:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T23:59:53.925-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra Minhoca Camarao</title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/8143118468488200851/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=8143118468488200851' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8143118468488200851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/8143118468488200851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/06/pra-minhoca-camarao.html' title='Pra Minhoca Camarao'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-3797013887043036634</id><published>2008-04-14T21:03:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T21:18:56.700-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pentelhando</title><summary type='text'>Nunca pensei que seriam pelos pubianos a me revelar a tal maturidade.Mas foi. Não os meus, claro, que estes nunca foram indício da minha maturidade. Pêlo contrário.Mas os daquele menino. Quem me conhece imagina quem?Entrei no banheiro para dar um aviso (lava essa cabeça direito!). Ele pelado. Dei uma olhadela para saber se estava tudo "em ordem". Não estava. Tudo desordenadamente peludo.Tudo bem,</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/3797013887043036634/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=3797013887043036634' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3797013887043036634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/3797013887043036634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2008/04/pentelhando.html' title='Pentelhando'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-5579666425547952443</id><published>2007-08-24T08:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T09:19:05.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'>mais 5 minutos</title><summary type='text'>Toda manhã.Quando estou com você.Ao telefone.No banho.De cigarro.De Fantasia.O Sexo.Descanso.Depois do almoço.Antes do trem.Mas foi tempo demais antes.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/5579666425547952443/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=5579666425547952443' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5579666425547952443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/5579666425547952443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2007/08/mais-5-minutos.html' title='mais 5 minutos'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-831753581949258540</id><published>2007-08-24T08:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T08:56:27.440-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Weirdo</title><summary type='text'>Bem cá estou eu. Steinenbronn. Não sei existe nem no Wikipedia. Mas existe na Alemanha. Ou pelo menos há casas, um supermercado, um posto de gasolina, uma farmácia, um hotel. Mas não há pessoas, então não sei se existe.De qualquer forma, tem sido minha morada desde e junho e continuará sendo até novembro. Hoje estive na Rathaus para pedir prorrogação do meu visto. Weird.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/831753581949258540/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=831753581949258540' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/831753581949258540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/831753581949258540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2007/08/weirdo.html' title='Weirdo'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-117565613943807238</id><published>2007-04-03T23:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T00:10:03.010-03:00</updated><title type='text'>fick dich</title><summary type='text'>e agora?ois. até esqueço que tenho um blog.pois sim, um assunto, um assunto, um assunto...contei a uma amiga que "tenho um blog". Agora preciso escrever algo porque um blog nao pode ficar desatualizado. Nunca.Tudo fica desatualizado. Até sua vida. Mas nao seu blog.E eu estou estudando alemao. Sim, ô linguinha...Sabe como é 5.555?funftausendfunfhundertfunfundfunfzig (e acredite, quase todos os "</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/117565613943807238/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=117565613943807238' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/117565613943807238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/117565613943807238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2007/04/fick-dich.html' title='fick dich'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-115845954749079438</id><published>2006-09-16T22:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T23:31:57.180-03:00</updated><title type='text'>otello, capivara, pneumonia, roncos e bugios</title><summary type='text'>nao esperava nada daquele dia.era eu, e so, mais uma vez, viajando para resolver as coisas do meu pai.brasilia. ver amigos.me sinto so em SP. sentia.pedro me levou ao armazem do ferreira (comecamos mal - pensei).mesa cheia de homens, epoca de copa.o que estou fazendo aqui?calada.sentei ao seu lado.acaso. ?voce nao olhava para mim.depois vim saber o motivo.uma das coisas mais lindas que voce ja me</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/115845954749079438/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=115845954749079438' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115845954749079438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115845954749079438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2006/09/otello-capivara-pneumonia-roncos-e.html' title='otello, capivara, pneumonia, roncos e bugios'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-115198481015205091</id><published>2006-07-04T00:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T00:46:50.166-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>por que eu to sempre acordada? Por que todos dormem???</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/115198481015205091/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=115198481015205091' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115198481015205091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115198481015205091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2006/07/por-que-eu-to-sempre-acordada-por-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-115146508656377450</id><published>2006-06-28T00:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T23:49:48.376-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>e minha pressa eh muita.o teraputa me disse que a vida nao eh uma corrida de 100 metros, mas sim uma maratona.quero correr na velocidade dos 100 m o tempo de uma maratona.Nao vou percorrer um caminho maior??</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/115146508656377450/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=115146508656377450' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115146508656377450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115146508656377450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2006/06/e-minha-pressa-eh-muita.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-115146476701177417</id><published>2006-06-28T00:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T00:19:27.013-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>estranha esta cidadea cidade da pressacarros, metro, trens, nenhum passaronao na verticalna vertical eh lentanao peguei um so elevador em Sp que fosse rapidoeu sei, meu teclado esta com acentuacao desconfigurada</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/115146476701177417/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=115146476701177417' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115146476701177417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/115146476701177417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2006/06/estranha-esta-cidade-cidade-da-pressa.html' title=''/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-113416174502341656</id><published>2005-12-09T18:53:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T18:55:45.033-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Mermaid - Elysian Fields</title><summary type='text'>Remember how you found meUnder a low bent half moonI must have been singing for youI'd never left the waterThough I once knew some flying fishThought I'd forget how to swimI am your mermaidI give to you freelyBut soon as you see me I'm gone, goneI am your mermaidTangled but blissfulKnock me a kissful of nectar, honeyThe water is hotAnd you hold my headAs sores of the day slip through the shore's </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/113416174502341656/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=113416174502341656' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/113416174502341656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/113416174502341656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/12/mermaid-elysian-fields.html' title='Mermaid - Elysian Fields'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-112448807042869200</id><published>2005-08-19T18:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T18:47:50.430-03:00</updated><title type='text'>comparando</title><summary type='text'>O pingo da fontena pedra se quebrana folha se escorreno Sol se revela... NUVEM ...O pingo da fronteno outro se quebrana vida se escorrena voz se revela... NÚCLEO ...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/112448807042869200/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=112448807042869200' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112448807042869200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112448807042869200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/08/comparando.html' title='comparando'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-112448786274383744</id><published>2005-08-19T18:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T19:05:40.686-03:00</updated><title type='text'>feijão com arroz</title><summary type='text'>UM DOIS as palavras vão se formando na ponta do lápis que vai escrevendo com o fio do cérebro que se perde com a velocidade baixa da mão que pensa que escreve um falso instrumentocabeça pensante cabeça de ventoamor amor amorqual é seu invento?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/112448786274383744/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=112448786274383744' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112448786274383744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112448786274383744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/08/feijo-com-arroz.html' title='feijão com arroz'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-112136489519685795</id><published>2005-07-14T15:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T15:14:55.200-03:00</updated><title type='text'>There There</title><summary type='text'>"Just cause you feel itit doesn't mean it's there"Radiohead</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/112136489519685795/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=112136489519685795' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112136489519685795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/112136489519685795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/07/there-there.html' title='There There'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111767517995465295</id><published>2005-06-01T21:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T22:19:39.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'>descarga</title><summary type='text'>Abriu a boca para dar um grito, como o grito de liberdade, afinal sentia-se viva, mas a voz que saiu de dentro de si foi das cordas da vesicula.Voz amarelo-amarga emudecida pela gosma biliarLevantou e abaixou a cabeça diversas vezes em espasmos cada vez mais intensosDos seus olhos não saía nadatinha secado seus vasos mas a bile continuava explodindo em lavacontaminando seus dentessua bocasua </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111767517995465295/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111767517995465295' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111767517995465295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111767517995465295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/06/descarga.html' title='descarga'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111755027679970729</id><published>2005-05-31T11:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T11:37:56.800-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parece...</title><summary type='text'>que o primeiro raio bateu no meu rosto?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111755027679970729/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111755027679970729' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111755027679970729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111755027679970729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/parece.html' title='Parece...'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111696981623509135</id><published>2005-05-24T18:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T22:06:39.196-03:00</updated><title type='text'>aviscerada</title><summary type='text'>Ontem eu peguei todas as minhas vísceras e tirei de mim. Por buracos vários no meu corpo. Pelos poros.Mas não morriFiquei numa semi-vida murcha, vesga, imprecisa, oca, latenteOs ossos suportando o peso flácido de uma pele que não tinha o que protegerO contrário da felicidadeA felicidade pra mim é quando se arranca a pelee os órgãos ficam todos expostos, vibrando, em tons de vermelho e roxo, em </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111696981623509135/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111696981623509135' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111696981623509135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111696981623509135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/aviscerada.html' title='aviscerada'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111592411409162686</id><published>2005-05-12T15:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T09:16:20.033-03:00</updated><title type='text'>sabedoria com números</title><summary type='text'>Hoje, no meu chinês almoço, a sorte tirada foi:"Ninguém bebe veneno para saciar a sede."Será? Pra mim, depende... sede de quê?Vão aí os números do outro lado pra quem quiser tentar a megasena:25 11 16 27 45 21</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111592411409162686/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111592411409162686' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111592411409162686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111592411409162686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/sabedoria-com-nmeros.html' title='sabedoria com números'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111591665748265027</id><published>2005-05-12T13:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T14:30:20.836-03:00</updated><title type='text'>tiras de crânio</title><summary type='text'>Eu não sei tirarNão sei arrancar as palavras da minha cabeçaElas ficam flutuando e batendo nas paredes lacradas do meu crâniomeu crânioeu tenho um crânioestranho saber disso...devo ter também medula,tutanotu-ta-notê u, tê a, ene óteúteáeneóquadrinhos de palavrasbobinhastolinhasguardando o que já está de dentrooxalá o crânio se trinque...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111591665748265027/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111591665748265027' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591665748265027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591665748265027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/tiras-de-crnio.html' title='tiras de crânio'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111591611111587605</id><published>2005-05-12T13:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T13:41:51.120-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Em mim</title><summary type='text'>... Não se engane pensando que posso ser váriasNão souIsso presume poder contarpresume um númeroE uma precisãoSou difusadesfiadaespalhadamoleculizadaNão existe o que eu souMas existe porque é em mim.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111591611111587605/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111591611111587605' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591611111587605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591611111587605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/em-mim_12.html' title='Em mim'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111591493981950067</id><published>2005-05-12T12:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-24T10:06:01.183-03:00</updated><title type='text'>recife</title><summary type='text'>Eu passo esses momentos sem vocêsem aquiEsses momentos em que o mar mora dentro de mimE todas as baleias as tartarugas os crustáceos os recifesE quando o mar transbordasaindo pela ponta de terraEu viro rioE escorroo rio é água que escorre porque o chão tá inclinadoE eu viro rioe me pingogeralmente nessa folha de papelque era árvoree agora é marmeu mar de palavrasprincipalmente nas folhas que </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111591493981950067/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111591493981950067' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591493981950067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111591493981950067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/recife.html' title='recife'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111585783773729490</id><published>2005-05-11T21:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T21:34:37.996-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Passarinho</title><summary type='text'>Era uma vez um passarinho. Um passarinho pequeno, grande e amarelo. Quando este passarinho abria suas asas, nada mais via. Eram grandes e voadoras. Digo assim porque há asas que não são voadoras. Mas este passarinho tinha asas voadoras. Ele não voava todo sempre, mas quando voava, alcançava o Alto Céu. Alto céu era um lugar que ficava entre o Rio Grande de Cima e o Rio Grande de Baixo. Estes eram</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111585783773729490/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111585783773729490' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585783773729490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585783773729490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/passarinho.html' title='Passarinho'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111585748137127071</id><published>2005-05-11T21:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T21:35:19.640-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ela era</title><summary type='text'>Era uma pequena menina de olhos grandes.Grandes olhos vermelhos que mais pareciam uma flor.Um lilás. Quando caía, sempre pensava que tinha quebrado a perna.E saía mancando. Quando não caía, sempre pensava que era bailarina.A menina acordou e se olhou no espelho.Os dentes brancos, a pele morena, os olhos. Continuava tudo no lugar. E ela sempre pensava como era incrível que ela, todo hoje, fosse </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111585748137127071/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111585748137127071' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585748137127071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585748137127071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/ela-era.html' title='Ela era'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111585682401095656</id><published>2005-05-11T21:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T21:37:27.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'>outro comum</title><summary type='text'>Quando você acordar,Jogue fora seu relógio.Esqueça todo o tempo e viva o simples continuar dos fatosNão há tempoO que existe é o atoAcordar, comer, sair, tomar banho, rir, chorar, amar.Conectados por linha nenhumaSó por memórias e expectativasIlusórias.Vasilhas vazias.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111585682401095656/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111585682401095656' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585682401095656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585682401095656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/outro-comum.html' title='outro comum'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111585676142608532</id><published>2005-05-11T21:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T21:36:12.960-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Da época dos comuns</title><summary type='text'>Salto do 21o andar iludindo-me.Vôo-suicídio.Choco-me violentamente contra a densidade pulsante. Concreta realidade.Atração implacável entre vôo e fim.Castigo de imortalidade.Dor latejante da pulverização dos ossos.Músculos destruídos no impacto com o concreto.Sangro para dentro.Embrienorragia.Espalhando-se em mim.Inundando-me.Esvaindo-me das veias.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111585676142608532/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111585676142608532' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585676142608532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585676142608532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/da-poca-dos-comuns.html' title='Da época dos comuns'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12827973.post-111585636105487497</id><published>2005-05-11T20:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T14:07:42.930-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais um</title><summary type='text'>Dia difícil esse de hoje. Acho que fico esperando coisas que não são. E que não vão.Esse diário. Esse registro.Entrei no antigo blog e achei uns textos meus. Gostei de algumas coisas. às vezes tenho a capacidade de ter as palavras. Mas não é sempre. Normalmente elas me têm em volume.Tomara que meus amigos apareçam por aqui.Ando sozinha que só (desculpem o trocadilho)Sinto saudades de um tempo em </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/feeds/111585636105487497/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12827973&amp;postID=111585636105487497' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585636105487497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12827973/posts/default/111585636105487497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bilalog.blogspot.com/2005/05/mais-um.html' title='Mais um'/><author><name>Bila Amorim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00466426203092107997</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9tSuFlQTzY4/SbShnM0vJsI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8O133LDM1ac/S220/DSCN0147.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
