<?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-2148386383722178646</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:26:04.504+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pensamientos en voz bajita</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-786746950995816544</id><published>2007-11-06T22:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:00.240Z</updated><title type='text'>Tocar las estrelles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RzDyToPo6cI/AAAAAAAAADM/n8XreQdRB38/s1600-h/cosmos_estrellas1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RzDyToPo6cI/AAAAAAAAADM/n8XreQdRB38/s320/cosmos_estrellas1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129866394609445314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apunto de tocar las estrellas con las manos.&lt;br /&gt;Conformarse de momento con haberlas olido.&lt;br /&gt;Olor dulce de satisfación y compensación.&lt;br /&gt;Olian como esas noches en las que el mundo se para y no hay tiempo, sólo momento.&lt;br /&gt;El aquí y el ahora.&lt;br /&gt;Es el primer escalón para poderlas alcanzar sin que se asusten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-786746950995816544?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/786746950995816544/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=786746950995816544' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/786746950995816544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/786746950995816544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/11/tocar-las-estrelles.html' title='Tocar las estrelles'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RzDyToPo6cI/AAAAAAAAADM/n8XreQdRB38/s72-c/cosmos_estrellas1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-4551108041967989219</id><published>2007-08-26T20:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:00.555Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Has visto que bonita está hoy  la luna?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RtH4ZrdyOiI/AAAAAAAAADE/hr5JqMsZ1Gc/s1600-h/Allura.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RtH4ZrdyOiI/AAAAAAAAADE/hr5JqMsZ1Gc/s320/Allura.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103132972835551778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-4551108041967989219?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/4551108041967989219/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=4551108041967989219' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/4551108041967989219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/4551108041967989219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/08/que-bonita-est-hoy-la-luna.html' title=''/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RtH4ZrdyOiI/AAAAAAAAADE/hr5JqMsZ1Gc/s72-c/Allura.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-5012302533590507787</id><published>2007-06-24T17:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:00.756Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rn6tITtP1tI/AAAAAAAAAC0/__bCtUNofwk/s1600-h/teatro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rn6tITtP1tI/AAAAAAAAAC0/__bCtUNofwk/s320/teatro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079687787961112274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hem compartit tres anys i amb ells alegries,&lt;br /&gt;tristeses, moments d'entusiasme, decepcions, i&lt;br /&gt;per sobre de tot la il.lusió.&lt;br /&gt;La il.lusió de crèixer com a artistes, la d'apredre,&lt;br /&gt;la de donar al públic el millor de nosaltres,&lt;br /&gt;la que ens ha fet tirar endavant malgrat les&lt;br /&gt;dificultats. La il.lusió i vocació ens ha portat més enllà!&lt;br /&gt;Gràcies professors per la vostra entrega.&lt;br /&gt;Gràcies a tothom de l'escola pel camí que heu obert&lt;br /&gt;i que nosaltres hem pogut recórrer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gràcies companys perque avui un altre cop viurem&lt;br /&gt;junts l'emoció de veure com s'obre el teló.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-5012302533590507787?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/5012302533590507787/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=5012302533590507787' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/5012302533590507787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/5012302533590507787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/06/hem-compartit-tres-anys-i-amb-ells.html' title=''/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rn6tITtP1tI/AAAAAAAAAC0/__bCtUNofwk/s72-c/teatro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-8619457662693627649</id><published>2007-06-09T10:09:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-06-24T09:44:20.273Z</updated><title type='text'>Ya sólo queda DISFRUTAR!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rmp8mjtP1sI/AAAAAAAAACs/4YieeK33p2A/s1600-h/Company.GIF"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 402px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rmp8mjtP1sI/AAAAAAAAACs/4YieeK33p2A/s320/Company.GIF" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074004932048180930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-8619457662693627649?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/8619457662693627649/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=8619457662693627649' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8619457662693627649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8619457662693627649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/06/ya-slo-que-disfrutar.html' title='Ya sólo queda DISFRUTAR!'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rmp8mjtP1sI/AAAAAAAAACs/4YieeK33p2A/s72-c/Company.GIF' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-3097245837823706798</id><published>2007-05-15T22:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-15T22:06:12.248Z</updated><title type='text'>Siendo</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Naciste  lo que eres, lo que llevas dentro.&lt;br /&gt;Algo tan grande que  asusta, hace enmudecer,  hace llorar,  hace feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Es duro, muy duro, tanto que incluso a veces dudas, te preguntas si es el camino correcto, si elegiste bien.&lt;br /&gt;Pero no elegiste nada, te eligieron a ti, por eso tiene sentido, por eso merece la pena, aunque no queden fuerzas.&lt;br /&gt;Es el aliento de cada despertar, el suspiro de cada anochecer, la razón de ser, de vivir, de sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Algo tan inmenso que darías la vida si fuera necesario, al instante, sin pensarlo, sin dudarlo.&lt;br /&gt;Algo tan grande y tan hermoso que sólo es comparable al                                                        amor.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-3097245837823706798?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/3097245837823706798/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=3097245837823706798' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3097245837823706798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3097245837823706798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/05/siendo.html' title='Siendo'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-3665337159824978899</id><published>2007-05-10T21:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:36:33.845Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DE HABERLO SABIDO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;       &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;De          haberlo sabido&lt;br /&gt;       no hubiera dado todo en un principio&lt;br /&gt;       no hubiera sido la noche en tu espalda&lt;br /&gt;       ni congelándote de frío.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;De          haberlo sabido&lt;br /&gt;       me hubiera ido sin decirte nada&lt;br /&gt;       no hubiera sido tan duro contigo&lt;br /&gt;       no hubiera habido corazón en la garganta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Peor          que el olvido&lt;br /&gt;       fue frenar las ganas de verte otra vez&lt;br /&gt;       peor que el olvido&lt;br /&gt;       fue volverte a ver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Me          sobran motivos&lt;br /&gt;       pero me faltas tú sobre la cama&lt;br /&gt;       y ahora que las calles están llenas de bandidos&lt;br /&gt;       cuando necesito de tu madrugada&lt;br /&gt;       cuando ya te has ido&lt;br /&gt;       cuando me parte en dos de una tajada&lt;br /&gt;       no hubiera dudado en quedarme contigo&lt;br /&gt;       de haber sabido que no me esperabas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Peor          que el olvido&lt;br /&gt;       fue frenar las ganas de verte otra vez&lt;br /&gt;       peor que el olvido fue volverte a ver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p style="text-align: right; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="texto"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="texto"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Quique González&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-3665337159824978899?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/3665337159824978899/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=3665337159824978899' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3665337159824978899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3665337159824978899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/05/de-haberlo-sabido-de-haberlo-sabido-no.html' title=''/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-6140873407014085406</id><published>2007-05-06T11:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:01.021Z</updated><title type='text'>There is no future, there is no past.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rj2_G_o2isI/AAAAAAAAACk/C4gUZVJVKpE/s1600-h/20060722104848-pluma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rj2_G_o2isI/AAAAAAAAACk/C4gUZVJVKpE/s320/20060722104848-pluma.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061411683117206210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sólo exite el ahora,&lt;br /&gt;esta respiración,&lt;br /&gt;este momento,&lt;br /&gt;este segundo.&lt;br /&gt;El pasado ya no exite.&lt;br /&gt;El futuro se convertirá pronto&lt;br /&gt;en el ahora.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-6140873407014085406?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/6140873407014085406/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=6140873407014085406' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6140873407014085406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6140873407014085406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/05/there-is-no-future-there-is-no-past.html' title='There is no future, there is no past.'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rj2_G_o2isI/AAAAAAAAACk/C4gUZVJVKpE/s72-c/20060722104848-pluma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-8711185981268518715</id><published>2007-04-25T12:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-25T12:50:44.134Z</updated><title type='text'>Seasons of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Ri9OC_o2irI/AAAAAAAAACc/45bAYSbZvJ8/s1600-h/hoja_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Ri9OC_o2irI/AAAAAAAAACc/45bAYSbZvJ8/s320/hoja_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057346719909841586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt; Five hundred twenty-five thousand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Six hundred minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How do you measure, measure a year?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In cups of coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In five hundred twenty-five thousand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Six hundred minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How do you measure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;A year in the life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How about love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How about love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How about love? Measure in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Seasons of love. Seasons of love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Five hundred twenty-five thousand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Six hundred minutes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Five hundred twenty-five thousand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Journeys to plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Five hundred twenty-five thousand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Six hundred minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;How do you measure the life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Of a woman or a man?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In truths that she learned,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Or in times that he cried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;In bridges he burned,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Or the way that she died.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;It's time now to sing out,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Tho' the story never ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Let's celebrate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Remember a year in the life of friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Remember the love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Remember the love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Seasons of love!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Oh you got to got to Remember the love! remember the love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;You Measure in love know that love is a gift from up above Seasons of love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:85%;" &gt;Share love, give love  spread love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEASURE YOU LIFE IN LOVE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-8711185981268518715?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/8711185981268518715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=8711185981268518715' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8711185981268518715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8711185981268518715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/04/seasons-of-love.html' title='Seasons of love'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Ri9OC_o2irI/AAAAAAAAACc/45bAYSbZvJ8/s72-c/hoja_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-6339725476926532980</id><published>2007-04-10T21:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-10T22:03:48.330Z</updated><title type='text'>One Song Glory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhwIQvo0eJI/AAAAAAAAACU/nxa9MXNgB9c/s1600-h/th-04166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 105px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhwIQvo0eJI/AAAAAAAAACU/nxa9MXNgB9c/s320/th-04166.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051921965761460370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;                                                        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One song. Glory. One song&lt;br /&gt;Before I go, Glory&lt;br /&gt;One song to leave behind,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find one song, one last refrain, glory&lt;br /&gt;From the pretty boy front man,&lt;br /&gt;Who wasted opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One song, he had the world at his feet,&lt;br /&gt;Glory&lt;br /&gt;In the eyes of a young girl, a young girl&lt;br /&gt;Find glory, beyond the cheap colored lights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One song, before the sun sets&lt;br /&gt;Glory - on another empty life&lt;br /&gt;Time flies - time dies,&lt;br /&gt;Glory - One blaze of glory&lt;br /&gt;One blaze of glory - Glory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find, Glory, in a song that rings true&lt;br /&gt;Truth like a blazing fire, an eternal flame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find, one song, a song about love&lt;br /&gt;Glory, from the soul of a young man&lt;br /&gt;A young man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find, the one song&lt;br /&gt;Before the virus takes hold, glory&lt;br /&gt;Like it sunset&lt;br /&gt;One song&lt;br /&gt;To redeem this empty life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies&lt;br /&gt;And then no need to endure anymore&lt;br /&gt;Time dies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-6339725476926532980?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/6339725476926532980/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=6339725476926532980' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6339725476926532980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6339725476926532980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/04/one-song-glory.html' title='One Song Glory'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhwIQvo0eJI/AAAAAAAAACU/nxa9MXNgB9c/s72-c/th-04166.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-7650900565758905334</id><published>2007-04-09T13:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-04-09T13:56:33.051Z</updated><title type='text'>Sin saber qué pensar. Sin nada que decir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhpF1zCkbTI/AAAAAAAAACE/sh6_1g00ovs/s1600-h/Perdida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhpF1zCkbTI/AAAAAAAAACE/sh6_1g00ovs/s320/Perdida.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051426722585799986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-7650900565758905334?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/7650900565758905334/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=7650900565758905334' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7650900565758905334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7650900565758905334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/04/sin-saber-qu-pensar-sin-nada-que-decir.html' title='Sin saber qué pensar. Sin nada que decir'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RhpF1zCkbTI/AAAAAAAAACE/sh6_1g00ovs/s72-c/Perdida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-8297113528938322319</id><published>2007-03-29T12:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:01.290Z</updated><title type='text'>Life is a big show!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rgu2nrA2gGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7y3UN-3yB5c/s1600-h/Cab5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rgu2nrA2gGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7y3UN-3yB5c/s320/Cab5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047328600076222562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What good is sitting alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In your room?&lt;br /&gt;Come hear the music play.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Come to the Cabaret.&lt;br /&gt;Put down the knitting,&lt;br /&gt;The book and the broom.&lt;br /&gt;Time for a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Come to the Cabaret.&lt;br /&gt;Come taste the wine,&lt;br /&gt;COme hear the band.&lt;br /&gt;Come blow a horn,&lt;br /&gt;Start celebrating;&lt;br /&gt;Right this way,&lt;br /&gt;Your table's waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No use permitting&lt;br /&gt;Some prophet of doom&lt;br /&gt;To wipe every smile away.&lt;br /&gt;Come hear the music play.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Come to the Cabaret!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have a girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;Known as Elsie,&lt;br /&gt;With whom I shared&lt;br /&gt;Four sordid rooms in Chelsea&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't waht you'd call&lt;br /&gt;A blushing flower...&lt;br /&gt;As a matter of fact&lt;br /&gt;She rented by the hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day she died the neighbors&lt;br /&gt;Came to snicker:&lt;br /&gt;"Well, that's what comes&lt;br /&gt;From too much pills and liquor."&lt;br /&gt;But when I saw her laid out like a Queen,&lt;br /&gt;She was the happiest... corpse...&lt;br /&gt;I'd ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of Elsie to this very day.&lt;br /&gt;I remember how she'd turn to me and say:&lt;br /&gt;"What good is sitting alone&lt;br /&gt;In you room?&lt;br /&gt;Come hear the music play.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Come to the Cabaret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put down the knitting,&lt;br /&gt;The book and the broom.&lt;br /&gt;Time for a holiday.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Come to the Cabaret."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for me,&lt;br /&gt;I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,&lt;br /&gt;When I go, I'm going like Elsie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start by admitting,&lt;br /&gt;From cradle to tomb&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that a long a stay.&lt;br /&gt;Life is a Cabaret, old chum,&lt;br /&gt;Only a Cabarert, old chum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I love a Cabaret!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;SONRÍE, SONRÍE, SONRÍE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Por los &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;momentos&lt;/span&gt; de la vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-8297113528938322319?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/8297113528938322319/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=8297113528938322319' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8297113528938322319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8297113528938322319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/life-is-big-show.html' title='Life is a big show!!!!!'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rgu2nrA2gGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7y3UN-3yB5c/s72-c/Cab5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-7103484132076710949</id><published>2007-03-25T12:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-25T12:40:51.470Z</updated><title type='text'>Vidas no paralelas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RgZtrp55maI/AAAAAAAAABw/dELzXwmiA6k/s1600-h/wig-61017n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RgZtrp55maI/AAAAAAAAABw/dELzXwmiA6k/s320/wig-61017n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045841029265725858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-7103484132076710949?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/7103484132076710949/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=7103484132076710949' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7103484132076710949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7103484132076710949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/vidas-no-paralelas.html' title='Vidas no paralelas'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RgZtrp55maI/AAAAAAAAABw/dELzXwmiA6k/s72-c/wig-61017n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-2611457747791692</id><published>2007-03-23T13:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-24T12:29:45.310Z</updated><title type='text'>A Él</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nadie como tú&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre face="times new roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He visto el coqueteo blanco de la luna&lt;br /&gt;bailando a solas con el mar.&lt;br /&gt;He visto mil atardeceres de fuego que duelen sólo de mirar.&lt;br /&gt;He visto mil criaturas bellas como el sol&lt;br /&gt;y cuerpos increíbles dignos de un pintor.&lt;br /&gt;He visto lo que el ser un humano puede hacer&lt;br /&gt;si hay fuego en su corazón.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero no he visto nadie como tú,&lt;br /&gt;no he conocido nadie como tú.&lt;br /&gt;Que sabiendo que soy como soy&lt;br /&gt;me quisieras salvar...por amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He visto la Vía Láctea emblanquecer el cielo&lt;br /&gt;la noche de verano ideal.&lt;br /&gt;Mil elfos y ninfas, Romeo y Julieta, Campanilla y Peter Pan.&lt;br /&gt;He visto el arte puro lleno de pasión.&lt;br /&gt;He visto la inocencia ardiendo de emoción&lt;br /&gt;He visto rostros bellos muertos de frialdad&lt;br /&gt;que corta la respiración&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y si te dijera simplemente que te quiero&lt;br /&gt;quizás sería hasta mejor.&lt;br /&gt;Yo sé que mis versos no pueden vencerte&lt;br /&gt;prefieres mi corazón.&lt;br /&gt;Pero este es mi argumento,&lt;br /&gt;esta es mi canción.&lt;br /&gt;Se está escribiendo sola&lt;br /&gt;habla el corazón.&lt;br /&gt;Y brota como el agua,&lt;br /&gt;y sólo es para ti&lt;br /&gt;es mi declaración de amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero no he visto nadie como tú.&lt;br /&gt;No he conocido nadie como tú,&lt;br /&gt;que sabiendo que soy como soy&lt;br /&gt;me quisiera salvar...por AMOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Marcos Vidal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;pre&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-2611457747791692?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/2611457747791692/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=2611457747791692' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2611457747791692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2611457747791692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/l.html' title='A Él'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-6445177601680788632</id><published>2007-03-19T23:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:01.522Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rf8csXDIiXI/AAAAAAAAABY/wZWFEcRV4x0/s1600-h/stinson_footsteps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 196px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rf8csXDIiXI/AAAAAAAAABY/wZWFEcRV4x0/s320/stinson_footsteps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043781656105224562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;color:white;"   &gt;Caminante son tus huellas&lt;br /&gt;el camino y nada más;&lt;br /&gt;caminante, no hay camino&lt;br /&gt;se hace camino al andar....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-6445177601680788632?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/6445177601680788632/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=6445177601680788632' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6445177601680788632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6445177601680788632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/caminante-son-tus-huellas-el-camino-y.html' title=''/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rf8csXDIiXI/AAAAAAAAABY/wZWFEcRV4x0/s72-c/stinson_footsteps.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-2296432318138742132</id><published>2007-03-15T15:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-15T23:31:09.298Z</updated><title type='text'>Entendí que no hay nada que entender...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RfnVcXDIiVI/AAAAAAAAABI/7xJ6t-SnJUI/s1600-h/lluvia+sobre+el+cristal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 169px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RfnVcXDIiVI/AAAAAAAAABI/7xJ6t-SnJUI/s320/lluvia+sobre+el+cristal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042295941018192210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-2296432318138742132?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/2296432318138742132/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=2296432318138742132' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2296432318138742132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2296432318138742132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/entend-que-no-hay-nada-que-entender.html' title='Entendí que no hay nada que entender...'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RfnVcXDIiVI/AAAAAAAAABI/7xJ6t-SnJUI/s72-c/lluvia+sobre+el+cristal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-8609050558946407192</id><published>2007-03-12T19:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-12T21:49:56.432Z</updated><title type='text'>Crónica de un silencio</title><content type='html'>Bajo en plaza Cataluña, como de costumbre, pero no hago el trasbordo habitual.&lt;br /&gt;Camino por las calles de Barcelona, sin prisa, por una vez, sin rumbo, sin destino, sólo porque me apetece, porque hoy no quiero hacer nada mejor. Pienso.&lt;br /&gt;Bajo por la Rambla, giro en Tallers. Vaya! que sorpresa, me encuentro a alguien que no veía hace años. No me hace especial ilusión, la verdad. Es más, me es indiferente ese encuentro.&lt;br /&gt;Se acaba rápido la conversación, preguntas pactadas desde siempre -¿qué tal estás? ¿qué haces por aquí? ¿todo bien?- es lo que tiene cuando no tienes nada que decir ni te importa lo que tenga que contarte alguien que has coincidido 2 ó 3 veces en tu vida. Sigo pensando.&lt;br /&gt;Continuo mi paseo a ninguna parte. Miro algún escaparate que viene de paso, me paro en las tiendas de instrumentos, miro, observo, pienso... Veo colgados anuncios de músicos -busco grupo, me ofrezco como, doy clases...- todos estamos igual.&lt;br /&gt;Giro por no sé que calle. Que más da. Giré por esa por no girar por la anterior o la siguiente.&lt;br /&gt;Me encuentro con una tienda de percusión. Lástima, está cerrada.&lt;br /&gt;Sigo recto y vuelvo a cruzar la Rambla, llego al Portal de l'Àngel, bajo y vuelvo a subirlo nuevamente y otra vez llego a la Rambla. Y una vez más no dejo de pensar.&lt;br /&gt;Subo. En el trayecto hay dos hombres desnudos creando espectación entre las personas que allí miran. No me paro, hoy no me interesa lo que tengan que decirme. Quizás hacian una campaña contra las pieles o ves a saber qué. Curiso. Diez metros más y un hombre me ofrece un abrigo de piel -no, gracias- y sonrío.&lt;br /&gt;Llego al Fnac, entro y me voy directa a la sección de jazz. Me paso más de una hora en el mismo pasillo. Hay tanto que escuchar, tanto que conocer...&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente de toda la selección elijo el cd que pasará la noche en mi casa.&lt;br /&gt;Paso por la sección de bso, una mirada rápida. Pop-rock, heavy, flamenco y llego al blues.&lt;br /&gt;Echo un vistazo y me quedo con ganas de llevarme uno. Sigo mi camino , oldies, crooners, entre otros, veo un vinilo de los Beatles. Pienso. Sigo y veo un poster de "The blues brothers". Sigo pensando.&lt;br /&gt;Recibo una llamada -voy para allí-. Espero en plaza Cataluña sentada en un banco, con el sol en la cara y leyendo uno de la multitud de periódicos que dan en el metro. Ahora está de moda regalarlos.&lt;br /&gt;Hacemos un par de viajes para mirar una cosa que no cuentro.&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente volvemos a Badalona pero nos vamos al centro. Me tomo un cortado en un bar en frente de la estación, al lado de la playa. Hablamos de la vida e intentamos arreglar el mundo, sin conseguirlo, obviamente. Llegamos a la conclusión, como otras tantas veces, que sólo el tiempo pone las cosas en su sitio.&lt;br /&gt;Volvemos, me lleva a casa -gracias por venir- le digo. -Que va- dice. Quería decir -gracias &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;por estar&lt;/span&gt;- sonríe y yo sigo pensando.&lt;br /&gt;Llego a mi casa a la hora de siempre como si de una mañana normal se hubiera tratado.&lt;br /&gt;No me siento orgullosa de mí, hoy. Fui en contra de mis principios, fui cobarde...¿y?, pero no traicioné mi alma.&lt;br /&gt;Mañana volveré a empezar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-8609050558946407192?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/8609050558946407192/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=8609050558946407192' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8609050558946407192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/8609050558946407192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/crnicas-de-un-silencio.html' title='Crónica de un silencio'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-1440809627964349064</id><published>2007-03-09T17:03:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-03-10T15:13:32.272Z</updated><title type='text'>Cosas para no olvidar - ampliable -</title><content type='html'>La sensación de sábanas limpias.&lt;br /&gt;El sol en la cara.&lt;br /&gt;Un paseo por la playa.&lt;br /&gt;El café de los martes.&lt;br /&gt;La sonrisa de un niño.&lt;br /&gt;Una noche de confidencias.&lt;br /&gt;Una película en el sofa de casa y una manta mientras fuera llueve.&lt;br /&gt;Reir tanto que duele el estomago.&lt;br /&gt;El olor de hierba mojada.&lt;br /&gt;El abrazo de un amigo.&lt;br /&gt;Los momentos felices.&lt;br /&gt;Los momentos triste porque también son necesarios para apreciar los otros.&lt;br /&gt;La música.&lt;br /&gt;El arte.&lt;br /&gt;Un "te quiero".&lt;br /&gt;Un "te necesito".&lt;br /&gt;Un "estoy contigo".&lt;br /&gt;Un "te entiendo"&lt;br /&gt;Un "te echo de menos".&lt;br /&gt;Soñar despierto.&lt;br /&gt;Los momentos en que las palabras sobran.&lt;br /&gt;Momentos que te quedas sin palabras.&lt;br /&gt;Momentos en los que se para el tiempo.&lt;br /&gt;Querer tanto que duela.&lt;br /&gt;Tener un hombro en el que llorar.&lt;br /&gt;Tener una mano que coger.&lt;br /&gt;Sentir el corazón de otra persona.&lt;br /&gt;Ver el alma en los ojos de alguien.&lt;br /&gt;Vosotros.&lt;br /&gt;Una noche contigo.&lt;br /&gt;Tú.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-1440809627964349064?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/1440809627964349064/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=1440809627964349064' title='4 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/1440809627964349064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/1440809627964349064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/cosas-para-no-olvidar-ampliable.html' title='Cosas para no olvidar - ampliable -'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-3783525027126982486</id><published>2007-03-05T10:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:01.713Z</updated><title type='text'>Conversaciones con Flaralarlar - "Desconcierto"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rev6y3nkb1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/8Cyg1oTYU1U/s1600-h/20060314231400-tormenta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rev6y3nkb1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/8Cyg1oTYU1U/s320/20060314231400-tormenta.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038396359974350674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desconcierto, desconcertante, desconcertada...&lt;br /&gt;Sensación de cambio, cambio rápido pero notable, palpable, sentido, emocionante, pero desconcertante una vez más.&lt;br /&gt;Decisiones a tomar, importantes, sin mucho tiempo para decidir.&lt;br /&gt;Decisiones sin marcha atrás, relevantes, inquietantes..&lt;br /&gt;Preguntas sin respuesta, de momento.&lt;br /&gt;Un futuro incierto que responderá preguntas del pasado, y tan penosamente anulamos el presente, sin entender que el sentido no es el final del camino, sinó el trayecto.&lt;br /&gt;Un camino que nos asusta, nos atabala y nos desconcierta otra vez, pero al mismo tiempo nos excita, nos hace sentirnos vivos.&lt;br /&gt;Y de nuevo todo lo que conlleva ese desconcierto nos hace conectarnos con nuestra alma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-3783525027126982486?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/3783525027126982486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=3783525027126982486' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3783525027126982486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/3783525027126982486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/03/desconcierto.html' title='Conversaciones con Flaralarlar - &quot;Desconcierto&quot;'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/Rev6y3nkb1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/8Cyg1oTYU1U/s72-c/20060314231400-tormenta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-5987160004414264005</id><published>2007-02-20T14:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-20T14:30:21.723Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RdsFLB6V_OI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qJIg80PrVoE/s1600-h/Dibujo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RdsFLB6V_OI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qJIg80PrVoE/s320/Dibujo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033622695566507234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...porque los milagros existen, aunque lo queramos racionalizar todo,....y por ese motivo tenemos que conservar la esperanza...siempre...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-5987160004414264005?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/5987160004414264005/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=5987160004414264005' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/5987160004414264005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/5987160004414264005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RdsFLB6V_OI/AAAAAAAAAAk/qJIg80PrVoE/s72-c/Dibujo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-7382137139582067076</id><published>2007-02-19T19:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-19T19:14:28.994Z</updated><title type='text'>Ànsia</title><content type='html'>Respirar profundamente y disfrutar,  no tiene desperdicio...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 class="western"&gt;ÀNSIA de Sarah Kane&lt;/h1&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="ca-ES"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ca-ES"&gt;Vull&lt;/span&gt; dormir al teu costat i anar de compres amb tu i carregar les bosses i dir-te com m’agrada ser amb tu encara que em facis fer coses estupides.  I vull jugar a l’acuit i donar-te la meva roba i dir-te que m’agraden les teves sabates i seure a l’escala mentre et prens un bany i fer-te un massatge al coll i besar.te els dits i agafar-te la mà i anar a buscar menjar i no importar-me que et mengis el meu plat i trobar-te al Rudy i parlar sobre com t’ha anat el dia i passar-te a màquina les cartes i carregar les teves capses i riure’m de la teva paranoia i regalar-te cintes que no escoltes i veure pel.lícules bones i veure pel.lícules dolentes i queixar-me de la ràdio i fer-te fotos quan dorms i llevar-me per preparar-te le cafè i les torrades i els croissants i anar al Florent i prendre cafè a mitjanit i deixar-te que em robis cigarrotes i mai no ser capaç de trobar un misto i parlar-te del programa de televisió que vaig veure anit i acompanyar-te a l’oculista i no riure els teus acudits i desitjar-te al matí però deixar-te dormir una estona més i besar-te la esquena i acariciar-te la pella i dir-te com m’agraden els teus cabells els teus ulls els teus llavis el teu coll els teus pits el teu cul el teu. I seure a l’escala fumant fins que els teus veins tornen a casa i seure a l’escala fumant fins que tornes a casa i preocupar-me  quan arribes tard i sorprendre’m quan arribes d’hora i regalar-te girasols i anar a la teva festa i ballar fins que ja no puc més i demanar-te perdó quan m’equivoco i ser feliç quan em perdones i mirar les teves fotos i desitjar haver-te conegut des de sempre i sentir-te la veu a l’orella i sentir-te la pell sobre la pell i tenir por quan t’enfades i un ull se’t posa vermell i l’altre blau i els cabells cap a l’esquerra i la cara oriental i dir-te que ets guapa i abraçar-te  quan estàs preocupada i agafar-te quan estàs malament i desitjar-te quan t’oloro i ofendre’t quan et toco i queixar-me quan sóc a propteu i queixar-me quan no ho sóc i bavejar sobre el teu pit i abrigar-te a la nit i passar fred quan em treus la manta i calor quan no me la treus i fondre’m quan somrius i dissoldre’m quan rius i no entendre per què creus que et rebutjo quan no et rebutjo i preguntar-me com pots pensar que et pugui rebutjar i preguntar-me qui ets encara que t’accepto com ets i parlar-te de l’àngel de l’arbre del bosc encantat del noi que vola a través de l’oceà perquè t’estima i escriure’t poemas i preguntar-me per què no em creus i tenir un sentiment tan profund que no ho puc descriure amb paraules i voler comprar-te un gatet que em posarà gelós perquè rebrà més atencions que jo i mantenir-te al llit quan te n’has d’anar i plorar com un nen quan finalment te’n vas i  eliminar els escarabats i comprar-te regals que no vols i torna a endur-me’ls i demanar-te que et casis amb mi i que em tornis a dir que no tot  i que t’ho continuaré demanant perquè penso que no creus que ho digui seriosament des de la primera vegada que t’ho vaig demanar i vagajerar per la ciutat pensant que està buida sense tu i voler el que tu vols  i pensar que estic perdut però sabent que estic salvant amb tu i dir-te el pitjor de mi i intentar donar-te el millor de mi perquè no et mereixes més menys i fer-te preguntes quan m’estimaria més no fer-ho i dir-te la veritat quan en realitat no ho vull fer i intentar ser sincer perquè sé que t’agrada i pensar que tot s’ha acabat però esperar encara deu minuts abans que em treguas de la teva vida i oblidar qui sóc i intentar sr més a proa teu perquè és meravellós aprendre a conèixer-te  i val la pena l’esforç i parlar-te Alemany malament i hebreu encara pitjor i fer l’amor anb tu a les tres de la matinada i d’alguna manera d’alguna manera d’alguna manera comunicar-te un poc de l’irriesistible inmortal aclaparador incondicional continu inacabable amor que sento per tu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-7382137139582067076?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/7382137139582067076/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=7382137139582067076' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7382137139582067076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/7382137139582067076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/02/nsia.html' title='Ànsia'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-4388874982035588966</id><published>2007-02-18T14:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-18T15:01:23.257Z</updated><title type='text'>Era el momento de volver...</title><content type='html'>Quizás por inspiración divina, o vete tú a saber....&lt;br /&gt;No sé como he vuelto a recuperar mi blog, pero así ha sido, supongo que era el momento...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-4388874982035588966?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/4388874982035588966/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=4388874982035588966' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/4388874982035588966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/4388874982035588966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/02/era-el-momento-de-volver.html' title='Era el momento de volver...'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-2406799627652144213</id><published>2007-01-03T22:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-03T22:17:33.378Z</updated><title type='text'>Gracias</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Ni siquiera sé por dónde empezar&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;para darte las gracias por existir.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Ya ni si quiera recuerdo&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;en el momento en que te conocí,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;pero muchos años han pasado ya  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;y aun sigo descubriéndote mil sensaciones&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;maravillosas.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Tenerte siempre a mi lado&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;son mis ganas de vivir,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;de respirar, de llorar, de sonreir.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Tú, que siempre estás ahí.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Tú, que me entiendes mejor que nadie.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Gracias por dejarme dormir cada noche&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;en el centro de tu ser.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Por compartir los mejores  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;y peores momentos de mi vida.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Gracias a quien te puso en este mundo&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;porque después de preguntas sin respuesta&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;he entendido que la respuesta eres tú.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;He entendido que si vivo en este mundo&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;del cual no entiendo apenas nada&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;es porque quiso que coincidiéramos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Y después de perder tantas y tantas veces&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;tú eres mi única victoria.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Ni siquiera estas palabras expresan  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;lo que me gustaría expresar.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Sólo con una de mis lágrimas&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;quizás se pueda entender.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-2406799627652144213?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/2406799627652144213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=2406799627652144213' title='5 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2406799627652144213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/2406799627652144213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2007/01/gracias.html' title='Gracias'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2148386383722178646.post-6804799944033840143</id><published>2006-12-31T16:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T05:02:02.087Z</updated><title type='text'>Se acabó</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RZfnYey0pdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rhQlcQmJk9g/s1600-h/lagrima%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 173px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RZfnYey0pdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rhQlcQmJk9g/s320/lagrima%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5014731117869442514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A seis horas de que acabe el año...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por fin acaba el año, un año que empezó muy bien y acaba peor que mal, aunque supongo que siempre podría acabar peor....así que quizás debería decir que ha sido un buen año?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En fin....no hay más comentarios al respecto, sólo esperar que el año que entra sea mejor que el que dejo, aunque sinó fuera así tampoco me sorprendería, es más, es esperable...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2148386383722178646-6804799944033840143?l=pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/feeds/6804799944033840143/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2148386383722178646&amp;postID=6804799944033840143' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6804799944033840143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2148386383722178646/posts/default/6804799944033840143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pensamientosenvozbajita.blogspot.com/2006/12/se-acab.html' title='Se acabó'/><author><name>María</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16450587521746076366</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nz5EE1eKEjI/RZfnYey0pdI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rhQlcQmJk9g/s72-c/lagrima%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
