<?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-8272702386755852792</id><updated>2011-09-12T07:26:36.245-07:00</updated><category term='Life'/><category term='Desamor'/><category term='Vida'/><title type='text'>caroline</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>113</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7277937931143334447</id><published>2010-03-02T13:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T13:31:31.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="color: #333333; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="UIStory_Message"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Y la ironía de la irónica ironía, y lo falso de la falsa falsedad. Explican lo que explican los que explican sobre la verdad. Soy un muerto encerrado en un cuerpo vivo, soy un vivo que hace tiempo se murió. Solo siento pero siento sin sentido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7277937931143334447?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7277937931143334447/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7277937931143334447' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7277937931143334447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7277937931143334447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/03/y-la-ironia-de-la-ironica-ironia-y-lo.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6652099588741252412</id><published>2010-02-18T13:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T13:32:20.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ex</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;-Ese ex que te destrozó va a aparecer en el momento exacto en que vos estás empezando a superarlo. El consejo: no te ilusiones, es un mecanismo (a veces conciente, a veces inconciente) para joderte la vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Las charlas amables con ese ex que te destrozó siempre terminan en un revolcón que te devuelve de una patadita al estado lamentable de enamoramiento que desemboca, siempre, en el terreno del sufrimiento. El consejo: no te ilusiones, fue un polvito nomás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6652099588741252412?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6652099588741252412/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6652099588741252412' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6652099588741252412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6652099588741252412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/ex.html' title='Ex'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-131885129237241428</id><published>2010-02-18T13:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T13:31:58.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Realidad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Si todo lo que vemos es alterado por nuestra percepción, ¿existe entonces la realidad? ¿Existe algo externo que esté más allá de nosotros? ¿Que no pueda ser modificado? ¿O todo es un conjunto de construcciones que vamos haciendo nosotros mismos? El destino puede ser transformado. ¿Existe el destino? ¿Hay algo dado a lo que nos adecuamos? Eso que vemos como externo a nosotros: ¿no es el resultado de la transformación que hizo otro?. Vamos por la vida construyendo ficciones. Siempre, todo, es ficción. Y si todo, siempre, es ficción, ¿por qué a veces es tan complicado ser consciente de eso? ¿Por qué resulta tan difícil modificarlo? Cambiar: siempre estamos a tiempo de. Deberíamos ser conscientes de eso, y dejarnos de joder con eso de la mala suerte, "las cosas se dieron asi", "no pude hacer nada". Siempre se puede hacer algo. Aunque sea, y aunque duela, alejarse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-131885129237241428?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/131885129237241428/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=131885129237241428' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/131885129237241428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/131885129237241428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/1.html' title='Realidad'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7969968365531820072</id><published>2010-02-18T13:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T13:23:41.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ser mujer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Tener ganas de llorar por algo que nunca viviste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, llorar por las dudas, por si te llega a suceder. Onda, just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tipo ensayo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7969968365531820072?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7969968365531820072/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7969968365531820072' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7969968365531820072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7969968365531820072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/ser-mujer.html' title='Ser mujer'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-2578516427098221621</id><published>2010-02-18T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T13:10:12.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before Sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anoche lloré un montón. Lloré un monton apenas comenzó el fundido a negro que declaraba como finalizada "Before Sunset". La película es tan, pero tan romántica, que me puso muy triste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me dio la horrible sensación de que esas historias de amor no existen. Que esas historias de amor son utópicas, mentirosas y caprichosas. Que son "divinas". Y que en el mundo real las historias de amor son "terrenales". Entonces lloré. Lloré porque nadie me miró nunca como el personaje mira a Celine. Porque sentí que Celine es una mujer perfecta -aun con su neurosis- y que soy disto mucho de ser perfecta. Y tampoco sé si quiero ser perfecta, pero sí quiero que me miren con esos ojos enamorados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fui al baño, que es el lugar preferido de mi casa, y me senté en el borde de la bañadera, y lloré desconsoladamente unos minutos. Me lavé la cara y volví a la cama. Y ahí me di cuenta, que esa historia de amor es una ficción, y que yo tenía al lado una persona que me mira con sus ojos enamorados, y que me abraza cada vez que me ve. Entonces me pregunté, mientras volvía a llorar, por qué siempre necesito más, por qué nunca me parece suficiente, por qué quiero vivir en otro mundo, en otra realidad, cuando la mia esta perfecta. O no. Pero por lo menos me hace feliz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-2578516427098221621?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/2578516427098221621/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=2578516427098221621' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2578516427098221621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2578516427098221621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/before-sunset.html' title='Before Sunset'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6324967732824412601</id><published>2010-02-13T11:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T11:45:07.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;C&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;ualquier similitud con la realidad &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;NO&lt;/span&gt; es pura coincidencia&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/8272702386755852792-6324967732824412601?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6324967732824412601/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6324967732824412601' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6324967732824412601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6324967732824412601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/coincidence.html' title='Coincidence'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7207140730105916966</id><published>2010-02-12T00:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:45:36.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comparison</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Pienso qué sucedería si conozco a un muchacho ridículamente romántico, que todo el tiempo esté haciéndome comparaciones. Que mis ojos parecen almendras, o que estar conmigo es vivir en primavera. Yo me pego un tiro. Pero ojo, puede que de ahí salga algo lindo. Se me ocurrió una escena:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Estábamos en la cama. Él me estaba acariciando el hombro hacía una película, por lo que yo sentía un leve ardor. Le corrí la mano al brazo, y empezó nuevamente con su acto de caricia corrosiva. De repente se sentó en la cama y me dijo: "¿Sabés una cosa?", hizo una pausa dramática, me sonrió, llevó su mano a mi rostro, y continuó: "Sos como un jazmín". Yo lo miré, suspiré, me senté en la cama, y le pregunté por qué. "Por qué qué" me dijo él. "Que por qué te parece que soy un jazmín". Y él, de nuevo sonriendo, de nuevo acariciando, contestó tranquilo, como si estuviera diciendo una obviedad: "Porque sos blanquita, suave, y siempre tenés rico olor". "¿Vos me estás cargando, no? ¿Vos realmente me mirás a mi y te imaginás un jazmín?" Él no respondió, supongo que estaba acostumbrado a que yo hiciera silencio ante cada una de esas estupideces que me decía. "No, posta te digo. Te juro que yo no entiendo como podés verme como un jazmín. O sea: ¿vos sos conciente de la pelotudez que acabás de decirme? Yo me banqué eso de que estar conmigo era como estar en primavera todo el tiempo, y me banqué que me dijeras que mis curvas son tan perfectas que parecen una autopista. Aunque ojo, lo de la autopista me pareció un poco desafortunado. ¿Pero un jazmín? ¿Estás seguro? ¿Una planta? Vos me estás diciendo que me ves como una planta. Podés agregar que me venden en las florerías por ramito, o que pasados algunos días el olor que largo es fétido. Podés decir eso, si querés, que también son características del jazmín. O no. ¿Sabés que podés decir que estaría re copado? Podés decir que los jazmines tienen cierta tendencia a atraer a cualquier tipo de bicho." Él sonrió. Evidentemente, no había entendido nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7207140730105916966?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7207140730105916966/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7207140730105916966' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7207140730105916966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7207140730105916966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/comparison.html' title='Comparison'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3470738513936451760</id><published>2010-02-12T00:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:27:29.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Optimista</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;¿Viste que hay gente que siempre mira el lado positivo de las cosas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bueno, a mi me parecen terribles pelotudos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3470738513936451760?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3470738513936451760/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3470738513936451760' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3470738513936451760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3470738513936451760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/optimista.html' title='Optimista'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-908086798639207720</id><published>2010-02-12T00:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:26:49.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Horóscopo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Virgo: En el amor te verás deprimido y nostálgico, y sentirás que el tiempo pasado fue mejor. Aprovecha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aprovecha&lt;/span&gt;"?&lt;br /&gt;¿"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aprovecha&lt;/span&gt;" qué cosa?&lt;br /&gt;¿"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aprovecha para suicidarte, que nadie te extrañará&lt;/span&gt;"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;¿Quién es el sádico que escribe estos horóscopos?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-908086798639207720?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/908086798639207720/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=908086798639207720' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/908086798639207720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/908086798639207720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/horoscopo.html' title='Horóscopo'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6992420764539532616</id><published>2010-02-12T00:24:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:24:32.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Generaciones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Hoy avistamos tres pares madre/ hija de lo mas interesantes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. En la calle. Madre treintañera, hija de dos añitos. Rubias. Monísimas. Vestían completamente de violeta. De pies a cabeza. Las dos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. En el colectivo. Madre pendevieja de una niña de doce. Maquilladas como cacatúas. La hija se iba pintando las uñas de un dorado loco, la madre dijo hasta el hartazgo "qué buen color, qué buen color". Repetían mucho: "¿a vos no te pasa?" y "ay, sí, tal cual".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. En la panadería. Par de gordas desprejuiciadas. Ruludas. Morochas teñidas de rubias. Con raíces crecidas. Cargaban un bandejón donde colocaron tres docenas de facturas. Se peleaban mucho porque una quería llevar medialunas de grasa y la otra de manteca. Vestían elegantes bolsos color plateado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6992420764539532616?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6992420764539532616/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6992420764539532616' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6992420764539532616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6992420764539532616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/generaciones.html' title='Generaciones'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5124984224992174178</id><published>2010-02-12T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:24:06.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>¿Superficial? Na</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"El amor es ciego las pelotas" me dijo mi amiga, nerviosa y casi gritando. Yo intenté decirle que no tenía razón, que el amor sí es ciego, que no entiende de distancias, mucho menos de raciocinios, pero no pude. Apenas empecé a justificarme ella me retó: "No te hagas la profunda boluda, que si te pido, en cinco minutos me das una lista inmensa de los sí y los no de la imagen masculina". Y tiene razón.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las cosas que sí, definitivamente&lt;br /&gt;. Cardigan&lt;br /&gt;. Los rombos&lt;br /&gt;. Mark Ruffalo&lt;br /&gt;. La camisa escocesa. Si está arremangada, much better&lt;br /&gt;. La bufanda burberry&lt;br /&gt;. El trench&lt;br /&gt;. El pantalón de corderoy, negro o verde preferentemente&lt;br /&gt;. La remera blanca, lisa, clásica, nunca falla&lt;br /&gt;. Dr. Martens&lt;br /&gt;. El sweter escote en V (no así las remeras, que son, al menos "peligrosas". Hay que tener cuidado con los chicos que visten remeras con escote en V)&lt;br /&gt;. Las remeras inteligentes (por favor, nada de remeras con el logo de la marca gigante, un horror)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las cosas que no, de ninguna manera&lt;br /&gt;. Riñonera (en especial si es portada como morral)&lt;br /&gt;. La franela en la camisa, la frazada en la campera&lt;br /&gt;. El olor fétido a cuellito o pelito transpirado&lt;br /&gt;. Las medias de "toalla"&lt;br /&gt;. Las zapatillas "tenis" estilo Ellese&lt;br /&gt;. El pantalón bultero&lt;br /&gt;. El jean blanco (o cremita, o afín)&lt;br /&gt;. La vincha&lt;br /&gt;. La musculosa (ninguna, no, por favor, jamás)&lt;br /&gt;. La guarda "Pampa"&lt;br /&gt;. El "calzado" Stork Man&lt;br /&gt;. La bambula&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5124984224992174178?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5124984224992174178/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5124984224992174178' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5124984224992174178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5124984224992174178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/superficial-na.html' title='¿Superficial? Na'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1889583279637070142</id><published>2010-02-12T00:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:20:38.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Si tu catarsis se translada del alcohol a un cafe vienés en sutton 212.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Estás &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;vieja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1889583279637070142?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1889583279637070142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1889583279637070142' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1889583279637070142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1889583279637070142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/old.html' title='Old'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5003593297226098581</id><published>2010-02-12T00:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:07:10.157-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frases que no queremos escuchar I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Estás mas gordita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5003593297226098581?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5003593297226098581/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5003593297226098581' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5003593297226098581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5003593297226098581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/frases-que-no-queremos-escuchar-i.html' title='Frases que no queremos escuchar I'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3943730325611913</id><published>2010-02-12T00:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:06:05.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frases que no queremos escuchar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Te pareces tanto a mi &lt;b&gt;EX&lt;/b&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/8272702386755852792-3943730325611913?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3943730325611913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3943730325611913' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3943730325611913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3943730325611913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/frases-que-no-queremos-escuchar.html' title='Frases que no queremos escuchar'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-705044509500823098</id><published>2010-02-11T23:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:58:44.122-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Autoestima</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Lo malo de estar con el autoestima por las nubes y pensar que todo me queda lindo o que soy hermosa etcétera es que no paro de comer en todo el día porque me veo bien. Tengo en el cuerpo una reserva energética que puede mantenerme vivita y culeando hasta el 2050.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-705044509500823098?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/705044509500823098/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=705044509500823098' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/705044509500823098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/705044509500823098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/autoestima.html' title='Autoestima'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6681517639751730278</id><published>2010-02-11T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T00:02:09.688-08:00</updated><title type='text'>¡Run!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Ahora, camina. Da un paso a la vez. Tranquila. Despacio. Mira el horizonte, y no se desespera por alcanzarlo. Antes tenía impulsos. Hablaba de más. Se ofendía rápido. Corría y se tropezaba, se caía, se chocaba con piedras, con obstáculos, se golpeaba, lloraba. Ahora no. Camina. Da un paso. Evalúa posibilidades. Calcula. Elige el camino. Si se equivoca, da algunos pasos hacia atrás. Piensa. Reflexiona. Es medida. Selecciona palabras. Escribe. Lee. Borra. Empieza de nuevo. Tiene paciencia. Tiene miedo. Por momentos quiere correr. Pero sabe que no puede. Puede, en realidad, pero no debe. No así. No, teniendo en cuenta todas las veces que corrió y terminó sin aire, cansada, agotada y con el corazón roto en mil pedazos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6681517639751730278?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6681517639751730278/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6681517639751730278' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6681517639751730278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6681517639751730278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/ahora-camina.html' title='¡Run!'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1884923822393504960</id><published>2010-02-11T23:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:44:32.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Circulo vicioso</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Yo, que soy divina y buena, siempre me enamoro de discapacitados emocionales. Los discapacitados emocionales, al mismo tiempo que me rompen el corazón se enamoran de histéricas y yeguas. Las histéricas y yeguas, además de romperle el corazón a los discapacitados emocionales se enamoran de los chicos buenos, que no les dan bola porque saben que la condición histérica y equina es imborrable. Los chicos buenos que les rompen el corazón a las yeguas histéricas se enamoran de chicas como yo, que les rompemos el corazón porque nos enamoramos de discapacitados emocionales, así sigue el círculo, y se repite, siempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1884923822393504960?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1884923822393504960/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1884923822393504960' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1884923822393504960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1884923822393504960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/circulo-vicioso.html' title='Circulo vicioso'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1554712559321714310</id><published>2010-02-11T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:40:23.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Repetición</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;El lunes &lt;b&gt;empiezo&lt;/b&gt; la dieta... por 5ta vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;(El martes la &lt;b&gt;rompo&lt;/b&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/8272702386755852792-1554712559321714310?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1554712559321714310/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1554712559321714310' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1554712559321714310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1554712559321714310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/repeticion.html' title='Repetición'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-9130288600980959753</id><published>2010-02-11T23:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:35:40.862-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Desamor'/><title type='text'>Una historia de desamor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Trebuchet, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;Conocés a un pibe que te gusta, un poco.&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No sé cómo levantarme a este pibe que me gusta un poco"&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;le decís a tus amigas, y tus amigas que son copadas y la tienen mas clara que vos te ayudan, un poco. Resulta que el pibe te invita a salir. En la cita la pasan bien, o esa es tu impresión. Te lleva a tu casa. No te dio ni un beso, nada de nada. Y vos no sabés. No entendés si tu impresión era errónea, entonces te tirás a la pileta y lo invitás a pasar. No decís&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Querés tomar un café"&lt;/span&gt;, porque eso te parece de gente mayor. Y hoy día la histeria masculina está en boga, se consigue al por mayor, entonces el pibe primero te dice&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No sé, mañana tengo turno con el médico temprano"&lt;/span&gt;. Y vos, que por dentro querés matarlo a trompadas, le decís, despreocupada&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Ok, no hay problema"&lt;/span&gt;, solo eso, no tratás de convencerlo, porque así como la histeria masculina está locamente de moda, vos conocés la histeria femenina y sabés cómo reaccionar ante un caso de estos. Entonces el pibe cae. Entra a tu casa. Cogen. Está bueno. Él está bueno. Vos te sentís buena. El polvo, los polvos, son maravillosos. Y tal vez "maravilloso" es un poco mucho, pero ponele que venías de un par de fiascos, entonces sí, te parece "maravilloso".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al día siguiente, naturalmente, estás en la nada misma. No sabés si fue un one-night stand o qué. Y por las dudas, porque no sos ninguna boluda, te quedás en el molde. Te ponés ansiosa, y empezás a matar la ansiedad con un alfajor diario que sabés se va a reflejar en tu trasero, pero qué mas da. Esperás. Aparece. Garchan. No sabés. Esperás. Ansiedad. Aparece. Garchan. El ciclo se repite no sé, cinco o seis veces, y lo tenés controlado. Porque si hay algo que sabés es que no podés engancharte con este tipo, porque tiene un prontuario dudoso, porque las dos personas que lo conocen y te conocen te dijeron&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No te enganches con este tipo"&lt;/span&gt;, y vos les estás haciendo caso. Te sale bien. Estás contenta porque podés. Y por ejemplo, alguien, ponele una amiga, empieza a hincharte las pelotas:&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"¿Pero están saliendo o no?"&lt;/span&gt;. Vos, canchera, ya le explicaste que no, que no están saliendo, nada mas lejano, que solo garchan, pero *cómo* garchan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo volvés a ver. Y esa vez que volvés a verlo, te das cuenta que pasaste treinta segundos mirándolo fijo, como una boluda, y te agarra miedo. Porque pensás que tal vez estés empezando a engancharte. Te aterrorizás. Te alejás. Te hacés la superada. Él se ríe de las cosas que decís, no sé, puede que le resultes un poco loca (o medio pelotuda), o algo por el estilo. Y pensás&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"quiero hacerte reir mas"&lt;/span&gt;, pero no, no se lo decís, porque no podés, porque no da. Y al día siguiente de ese encuentro, o en alguno de los días posteriores, seguís pensando que querés hacerlo reír mas, pero seguís sabiendo que no da. Ensayás un discurso. Se acabó lo que se daba. Le vas a decir que mejor no, que no se sigan viendo, porque estás un cachito enganchada, y sabés que no podés engancharte con él, y que por tu salud mental y la de él (aquí podés inventar que te ponés muy hinchapelotas cuando te gusta alguien) preferís no seguir viéndolo. Y él posiblemente te diga&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"ok"&lt;/span&gt;, porque los hombres en general dicen ok y nada mas (o intentan explicar mil cosas que a una no le interesan en lo absoluto). Pero ¡zas!, la siguiente vez que lo ves se vuelve a reír, y vos pensás&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"no, lo tengo controlado, no pasa nada, no pasa nada, puedo seguir garchando y está todo bien"&lt;/span&gt;. Y seguís.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El día posterior a cada encuentro te ponés un poquito pelotuda. Estás contenta pero no hablás con nadie. Algunas imágenes de la noche anterior se cruzan en tu cabeza, caprichosas y desordenadas, y vos tal vez sonreís en el colectivo, o en la calle. Y es muy posible que la gente piense que estás mal de la cabeza, pero no te importa, porque estás mal de la cabeza todos los días, no sólo el día posterior al día en que lo viste a él. Después el pelotudismo se te pasa, y te tranquilizás. Sabés, efectivamente, que no estás enganchada, que estás teniendo un comportamiento sano y saludable, que la estás pasando bien y nada mas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces volvés a verlo. Y aquí aparece ese momento de inflexión. Estás en la cama, y te das cuenta que acabás de hacerle dos chistes de esos que rozan el mal gusto, lo hiriente. Y&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"mierda"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;pensás, porque sabés que vos sólo tratás mal a los chicos que te gustan mucho. Estás a cinco segundos de decirle un montón de cosas, de hacer un primer planteo cuando sabés que no tenés ningún derecho de hacer planteos. Lo mirás, estás callada, a punto de cometer el error que ya cometiste muchas veces. Entonces, como si estuvieras soñando despierta, lo ves: le planteás&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"dónde estamos yendo"&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;y él puede responderte dos cosas. Puede decirte que no quiere mas que esto, o puede decirte que le gustás mucho (significando eso, al menos para las mujeres, un&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"ok, empecemos algo mas copado"&lt;/span&gt;). En cualquiera de los dos casos sabés que tu respuesta va a ser positiva: le vas a decir que sí al&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"sigamos así"&lt;/span&gt;, le vas a decir que sí al "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;empecemos algo mas copado"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si le das play a la película del&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"sigamos así"&lt;/span&gt;, sabés que&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;vas a terminar llorando un montón de noches, comiendo kilos de chocolate, deprimida, mirando tortuosas películas de amor, porque él no te llama y vos estás al horno de enganchada, a punto caramelo&lt;/span&gt;, y después te vas a enterar que él anda con otras minas. Y te vas a enojar, aunque no tengas derecho, porque esto era algo sin compromiso.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Y puede que te vuelvas un poco obsesiva, que ese enganche con ese pibe se convierta en lo único que te mantiene bien, que estés feliz sólo cuando te llama y triste todo el resto de la semana, y que termine él por darte una patada en el ojete porque "te volviste loca, hija de puta".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En cambio, si le das play a la película del&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"empecemos algo mas copado"&lt;/span&gt;, es posible que te sientas en el paraíso, que estés feliz, que sientas que nunca en la vida estuviste tan bien. Van a empezar a salir mas, vas a conocer a sus amigos, él a los tuyos. Van a ir a fiestas, a comer, a pasear. Tus domingos de soltera empedernida no van a ser iguales, porque vas a tener alguien con quien desayunar. Algunas veces en la semana vas a dormir acompañada, te vas a sentir plena. Te vas a enamorar como nunca. Y ahí, cuando estés enamorada como nunca, pueden suceder dos cosas, que son hermosas por igual: el pibe va a venir con un planteo de "necesito mas espacio" o te vas a enterar que te cagó.&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Y vas a terminar llorando un montón de noches, comiendo kilos de chocolate, deprimida, mirando tortuosas películas de amor, porque él no te llama y vos estás al horno de enganchada, a punto caramelo. Y puede que te vuelvas un poco obsesiva, que ese enamoramiento con ese pibe se convierta en lo único que te mantiene bien, que estés feliz sólo cuando te llama y triste todo el resto de la semana, y que termine él por darte una patada en el ojete por "te volviste loca, hija de puta".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces le vas a dar stop a esas dos horrendas películas, y vas a volver a mirarlo, vas a decir alguna pavada, él se va a reír, vos te vas a preguntar&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"por qué arruinar esto"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;y te vas a ahogar en un simple y efectivo&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"cómo me calentás"&lt;/span&gt;. Y sabés que al día siguiente te vas a poner un poquito pelotuda, pero sabés que después se te va a pasar. Y vas a estar orgullosa de vos, porque sabés que no estás enganchada, porque sabés que no te podés enganchar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-9130288600980959753?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/9130288600980959753/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=9130288600980959753' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/9130288600980959753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/9130288600980959753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/una-historia-de-desamor.html' title='Una historia de desamor'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6576112137109778146</id><published>2010-02-11T23:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:27:04.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holland</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Hace unos&amp;nbsp;días&amp;nbsp;me entere que San Nicolás (Papa Noel) es el patrono de las putas, ladrones y marineros en Holanda. Que ignorante fui durante tantos años...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;¿Irónico?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Ahora entiendo muchas cosas&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/8272702386755852792-6576112137109778146?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6576112137109778146/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6576112137109778146' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6576112137109778146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6576112137109778146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/hace-unos-entere-que-san-nicolas-papa.html' title='Holland'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3304416877643350397</id><published>2010-02-11T23:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:18:11.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>-N-</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;Soy nerd&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/8272702386755852792-3304416877643350397?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3304416877643350397/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3304416877643350397' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3304416877643350397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3304416877643350397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/n.html' title='-N-'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1089013438399261130</id><published>2010-02-11T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T11:09:38.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1990</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Me&amp;nbsp;tiraron la data, que en&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thisdayinmusic.com/birthdayno1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;ésta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;página, podes ver el tema que mas estaba sonando cuando tu madre estaba pariendote y pensando en porque&amp;nbsp;había&amp;nbsp;decidido tenerte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;El&amp;nbsp;mio era&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini  - Bombalurina. (UK)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-1089013438399261130?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1089013438399261130/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1089013438399261130' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1089013438399261130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1089013438399261130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/1990.html' title='1990'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6910090696678668568</id><published>2010-02-11T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T23:07:18.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The impossible cool</title><content type='html'>Increíbles fotos, miralas&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://theimpossiblecool.tumblr.com/page/2"&gt;AQUÍ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6910090696678668568?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6910090696678668568/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6910090696678668568' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6910090696678668568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6910090696678668568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2010/02/impossible-cool.html' title='The impossible cool'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-2893765152980219</id><published>2009-12-24T09:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T09:22:10.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzOlESrf4DI/AAAAAAAAAZo/c43I6nj5Amc/s1600-h/enjoy+the+silence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzOlESrf4DI/AAAAAAAAAZo/c43I6nj5Amc/s400/enjoy+the+silence.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"&gt;VOWS ARE SPOKEN&lt;br /&gt;FEELINGS ARE INTENSE&lt;br /&gt;WORDS ARE TRIVIAL&lt;br /&gt;PLEASURES REMAIN&lt;br /&gt;SO DOES THE PLAIN&lt;br /&gt;WORDS ARE MEANINGLESS&lt;br /&gt;AND FORGETTABLE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-2893765152980219?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/2893765152980219/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=2893765152980219' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2893765152980219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2893765152980219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/vows-are-spoken-feelings-are-intense.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzOlESrf4DI/AAAAAAAAAZo/c43I6nj5Amc/s72-c/enjoy+the+silence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5086267969196340389</id><published>2009-12-21T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T20:15:38.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;-"Oh it doesn't matter what you say. I just can't stay here every yesterday like keep on acting out the same. The way we act out, every way to smile (forget) and make-believe we never needed, any more than this.. any more than this. Oh it doesn't matter what you do, I know I'll never really get inside of you to make your eyes catch fire, that the way they should. The way the blue could pull me in, if they only would, if they only would. At least I'd lose this sense of sensing something else, that hides away from me and you. There're worlds to part, with aching looks and breaking hearts. And all the prayers your hands can make, I just take as much as you can throw. And then throw it all away, Like throwing faces at the sky, like throwing arms round. Yesterday, I stood and stared.. wide-eyed in front of you and the face I saw looked back that the way I wanted to, but I just can't hold my tears away that the way you do “&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzBH297NQAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/UYe-F1I2-c4/s1600-h/Caroline+(99).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzBH297NQAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/UYe-F1I2-c4/s320/Caroline+(99).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5086267969196340389?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5086267969196340389/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5086267969196340389' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5086267969196340389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5086267969196340389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-it-doesnt-matter-what-you-say.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SzBH297NQAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/UYe-F1I2-c4/s72-c/Caroline+(99).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3305805475099926342</id><published>2009-12-21T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T20:12:12.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Abro los ojos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Abro los ojos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Me mantengo atenta, observando cada detalle de lo que me rodea y ahí, te veo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cierro los ojos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Esperando que desaparezcas en ese instante, pero no quiero perderte de vista, no todavía. No quiero porque te quiero. Así que miro, recorro cada pelo de tu pelo, cada gesto de tus gestos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Te veo y pienso, después de todo lo que hemos roto y tan lejos de donde hemos estado, ahí estas, cerca pero lejos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;No necesito que digas nada. Dices con tu mirada más de lo que crees, pero preferiría que me gritaras con odio, el dolor pesa tanto como el orgullo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Miro a otro lado, después te vuelvo a mirar tratando de decir las cosas que no puedo borrar, todo mi cuerpo quiere verte y pide a gritos abrazarte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Pero no quiero hablar de eso no quiero conversación, solo quiero sentarme y mirarte, prefiero mil veces tu sonrisa que cualquier palabra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Horas, días mirándote, disimuladamente y tan solo minutos para que te evapores. Te sigo con la mirada hasta perderte. Una vez mas, otra vez, lo que creía permanente demostró que es solo fugitivo. Una y otra vez, lo que imagine repetible, no tuvo lugar nunca más en ese día.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Me ciego por completo, sintiendo el vacío y escuchando a mi corazón que es el único que late y tu imagen repetida en mi cabeza caminando sobre la línea que divide algún lugar en mi mente. Pero estoy molesta, quiero sacarte de ahí, estoy enferma y cansada de tu rostro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Cansada de pensar en labios que besan frío, ya no hay nada que puedas hacer que me hiera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Siempre tuve ganas de decirte un millón de cosas, pero ahora tengo que dar un paso adelante y ser fuerte, aunque se que nos juntaremos algún día, no vos ni yo, sino tus ojos y los míos y entrecerrados, casi dormidos, disfruten echando de menos esos momentos en los que me hiciste tan feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(Aclaro que no lo escribi yo, ni se de donde lo saqué, si el dueño original lee, pido disculpas, me gustó el texto)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3305805475099926342?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3305805475099926342/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3305805475099926342' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3305805475099926342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3305805475099926342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/abro-los-ojos.html' title='Abro los ojos'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-537735587736214904</id><published>2009-12-21T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T20:00:00.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Esta epoca del año siempre trae recuerdos, y descubro año a año que cada vez me gusta menos la navidad, antes era algo que compartiamos en familia, ahora cada año hay un integrante menos, ya sea por peleas o cualquier otro motivo, que no se sienta en la mesa. Este año somos cuatro, demasiado pocos para mi gusto (vale aclarar que antes eramos quince aproximadamente, lleno de chicos corriendo, y gritando, pidiendo para abrir los regalos).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Tengo regresiones a la infancia, en la cual armabamos el arbolito escuchando Elvis Presley, todos los integrantes de mi familia, en cambio ahora es un tramite, una fecha en la cual cumplir, desear felices fiestas e irme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sin embargo, aunque todo esto que haya dicho sea negativo y hay pintado mis fiestas como algo totalmente deprimente, no puedo evitar pensar en todos los recuerdos que esto tambien trae, y que es una buena oportunidad para saludar y ver a familiares, amigos y compañeros que no veo hace mucho. Ya que prendes la tv, escuchas la radio, y por cualquier medio de comunicacion en general, escuchamos y vemos siempre hechos depresivos, es un buen momento para dejar un poco de lado eso, comenzar de cero y recordales a cada uno de ellos lo importante que son en nuestra vida.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Es una etapa, la unica durante el año, en la cual uno se replantea cosas, y tiene la oportunidad de empezar de cero, de borrar los momentos malos y dejar los buenos y proponerse cosas nuevas para el año siguiente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Asi que este año me propongo mas alla de las cosas malas que puedan llegar a pasar, tener una hermosa navidad, aunque seamos dos personas en una mesa con Vitel toné y un pollo relleno con ciruelas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;No existe la Navidad ideal, solo la Navidad que usted decida crear como reflejo de sus valores, deseos, queridos y tradiciones"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-537735587736214904?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/537735587736214904/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=537735587736214904' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/537735587736214904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/537735587736214904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/esta-epoca-del-ano-siempre-trae.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-2969844005118162325</id><published>2009-12-11T23:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T23:24:18.102-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><title type='text'>Mundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;El hambre desayuna miedo.&lt;br /&gt;El miedo al silencio aturde las calles.&lt;br /&gt;El miedo amenaza:&lt;br /&gt;Si usted ama, tendrá sida.&lt;br /&gt;Si fuma, tendrá cáncer.&lt;br /&gt;Si respira, tendrá contaminación.&lt;br /&gt;Si bebe, tendrá accidentes.&lt;br /&gt;Si come, tendrá colesterol.&lt;br /&gt;Si habla, tendrá desempleo.&lt;br /&gt;Si camina, tendrá violencia.&lt;br /&gt;Si piensa, tendrá angustia.&lt;br /&gt;Si duda, tendrá locura.&lt;br /&gt;Si siente, tendrá soledad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-2969844005118162325?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/2969844005118162325/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=2969844005118162325' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2969844005118162325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2969844005118162325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/mundo.html' title='Mundo'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5512142181342535693</id><published>2009-12-11T23:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T23:23:31.895-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><title type='text'>Cuerpo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;La Iglesia dice: El cuerpo es una culpa.&lt;br /&gt;La ciencia dice: El cuerpo es una máquina.&lt;br /&gt;La publicidad dice: El cuerpo es un negocio.&lt;br /&gt;El cuerpo dice: Yo soy la fiesta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5512142181342535693?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5512142181342535693/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5512142181342535693' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5512142181342535693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5512142181342535693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/cuerpo.html' title='Cuerpo'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3719029074796243871</id><published>2009-12-11T23:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T23:22:41.267-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vida'/><title type='text'>Utopia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ella está en el horizonte. Me acerco dos pasos, ella se aleja dos pasos. Camino diez pasos y el horizonte&lt;br /&gt;se corre diez pasos más allá. Por mucho que yo camine, nunca la alcanzaré. ¿Para qué sirve la utopía?&lt;br /&gt;Para eso sirve: para caminar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3719029074796243871?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3719029074796243871/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3719029074796243871' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3719029074796243871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3719029074796243871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/utopia.html' title='Utopia'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-385270524872535298</id><published>2009-12-11T23:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T23:19:22.286-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;La forma de ver el mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cinco judíos cambiaron la forma de ver y definir el mundo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #95b3aa; font-family: Georgia; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Moisés dijo: &lt;b&gt;La ley es todo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Jesús dijo: &lt;b&gt;El amor es todo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Marx dijo: &lt;b&gt;El dinero es todo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Freud dijo: &lt;b&gt;El sexo es todo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Einstein dijo: &lt;b&gt;Todo es relativo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-385270524872535298?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/385270524872535298/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=385270524872535298' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/385270524872535298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/385270524872535298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/la-forma-de-ver-el-mundo-cinco-judios.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3435536540100427073</id><published>2009-12-11T23:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T23:17:37.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>¿Es el amor un arte?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;¿Es el amor un arte? En tal caso, requiere conocimiento y esfuerzo. ¿O es el amor una sensación placentera, cuya experiencia&lt;br /&gt;es una cuestión de azar, algo con lo que uno "tropieza" si tiene suerte? Este libro se basa en la primera premisa, si bien es indudable que la mayoría de la gente de hoy cree en la segunda.&lt;br /&gt;No se trata de que la gente piense que el amor carece de importancia. En realidad, todos están sedientos de amor; ven innumerables películas basadas en historias de amor felices y desgraciadas, escuchan centenares de canciones triviales que hablan del amor, y, sin embargo, casi nadie piensa que hay que aprender acerca del amor.&lt;br /&gt;Esa peculiar actitud se basa en varias premisas que, individualmente o combinadas, tienden a sustentarla.&amp;nbsp; Para la mayoría de la gente, el problema del amor consista fundamentalmente en ser amado, no en amar, no en la propia capacidad de amar. De ahí que para ellos el problema sea cómo lograr que se los ame,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;cómo ser dignos de amor.&amp;nbsp; Para alcanzar ese objetivo, siguen varios caminos. Uno de ellos, utilizado en especial por los hombres, es tener éxito, ser tan poderoso y rico como lo permita el margen social de la propia posición.&amp;nbsp; Otro usado particularmente por las mujeres, consiste en ser atractivas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;por medio del cuidado del cuerpo, la ropa, etc. Existen otras formas de hacerse atractivo, que utilizan tanto los hombres como las mujeres, tales como tener modales agradables y conversación interesante, ser útil, modesto, inofensivo. Muchas de las formas de hacerse querer son iguales a las que se utilizan para alcanzar el éxito, para "ganar amigos a influir sobre la gente".&lt;br /&gt;En realidad, lo que para la mayoría de la gente de nuestra cultura equivale a digno de ser amado es, en esencia, una mezcla de popularidad y sex-appeal.&lt;br /&gt;La segunda premisa que sustenta la actitud de que no hay nada que aprender sobre el amor, es la suposición de que el problema del amor es el de un objeto y no de una facultad. La gente cree que amar es sencillo y difícil encontrar un objeto apropiado para amar para ser amado por él. Tal actitud tiene varias causas, arraigadas en el desarrollo de la sociedad moderna. Una de ellas es la profunda transformación que se produjo en el siglo veinte con respecto a la elección del "objeto amoroso". En la era victoriana, así como en muchas culturas tradicionales, el amor no era generalmente una experiencia personal espontánea que podía llevar al matrimonio. Por el contrario, el matrimonio se efectuaba por un convenio entre las respectivas familias o por medio de un agente matrimonial, o también sin la ayuda de tales intermediarios; se realizaba sobre la base de consideraciones sociales, partiendo de la premisa de que el amor surgiría después de concertado el matrimonio. En las últimas generaciones el concepto de amor romántico se ha hecho casi universal en el mundo occidental. En los Estados Unidos de Norteamérica, si bien no faltan consideraciones de índole convencional, la mayoría de la gente aspira a encontrar un "amor romántico", a tener una experiencia personal del amor que lleve luego al matrimonio. Ese nuevo concepto de la libertad en el amor debe haber acrecentado enormemente la importancia del objeto frente a la de la función.&lt;br /&gt;Hay en la cultura contemporánea otro rasgo característico, estrechamente vinculado con ese factor. Toda nuestra cultura está basada en el deseo de comprar, en la idea de un intercambio mutuamente favorable. La felicidad del hombre moderno consiste en la excitación de contemplar las vidrieras de los negocios, y en comprar todo lo que pueda, ya sea al contado o a plazos. El hombre (o la mujer) considera a la gente en una forma similar. Una mujer o un hombre atractivos son los premios que se quiere conseguir. "Atractivo" significa habitualmente un buen conjunto de cualidades que son populares y por las cuales hay demanda en el mercado de la personalidad. Las características específicas que hacen atractiva a una persona, dependen de la moda, de la época, tanto física como mentalmente. Durante los años que siguieron a la Primera Guerra Mundial, una joven que bebía y fumaba, emprendedora y sexualmente provocadora, resultaba atractiva; hoy en día la moda exige más domesticidad y recato. A fines del siglo XIX y comienzos de éste, un hombre debía ser agresivo y ambicioso -hoy tiene que ser sociable y tolerante- para resultar atractivo. De cualquier manera, la sensación de enamorarse sólo se desarrolla con respecto a las mercaderías humanas que están dentro de nuestras posibilidades de intercambio. Quiero hacer un buen negocio; el objeto debe ser deseable desde el punto de vista de su valor social y, al mismo tiempo, debo resultarle deseable, teniendo en cuenta mis valores y potencialidades manifiestas y ocultas. De ese modo, dos personas se enamoran cuando sienten que han encontrado el mejor objeto disponible en el mercado dentro de los límites impuestos por sus propios valores de intercambio. Lo mismo que cuando se compran bienes raíces, suele ocurrir que las potencialidades ocultas susceptibles de desarrollo desempeñan un papel de considerable importancia en tal transacción. En una cultura en la que prevalece la orientación mercantil y en la que el éxito material constituye el valor predominante, no hay en realidad motivos para sorprenderse de que las relaciones amorosas humanas sigan el mismo esquema de intercambio que gobierna el marcado de bienes y de trabajo.&lt;br /&gt;El tercer error que lleva a suponer que no hay nada que aprender sobre el amor, radica en la confusión entre la experiencia inicial del "enamorarse" y la situación permanente de estar enamorado, o mejor dicho de "permanecer" enamorado. Si dos personas que son desconocidas la una para la otra, como lo somos todos, dejan caer pronto la barrera que las separa, y se sienten cercanas, se sienten uno, ese momento de unidad constituye uno de los más estimulantes y excitante para la vida. Y resulta aún más maravilloso y milagroso para aquellas personas que han vivido encerradas, aisladas sin amor. Ese milagro de súbita intimidad suele verse facilitado si se combina o inicia con la atracción sexual y su consumación. Sin embargo, tal tipo de amor es, por su misma naturaleza, poco duradero. Las dos personas llegan a conocerse bien, su intimidad pierde cada vez más su carácter milagroso, hasta que su antagonismo, sus desilusiones, su aburrimiento mutuo, terminan por matar lo que pueda quedar de la excitación inicial. No obstante, al comienzo no saben todo esto: en realidad, consideran la intensidad del apasionamiento, ese estar "locos" el uno por el otro como una prueba de la intensidad del amor, cuando sólo muestra el grado de su soledad anterior.&lt;br /&gt;Esa actitud -que no hay nada más fácil que amar- sigue siendo la idea prevaleciente sobre el amor, a pesar de las abrumadoras pruebas de lo contrario. Prácticamente no existe ninguna otra actividad o empresa que se inicie con tremendas esperanzas y expectaciones, y que, no obstante, fracase tan a menudo como el amor. Si ello ocurriera con cualquier otra actividad, la gente estaría ansiosa por conocer los motivos del fracaso y por corregir sus errores -o renunciaría a la actividad-. Puesto que lo último es imposible en el caso del amor, sólo parece haber una forma adecuada de superar el fracaso del amor, y es examinar las causas de tal fracaso y estudiar el significado del amor.&lt;br /&gt;El primer paso a dar es tomar conciencia de que el amor es un arte, tal como es un arte el vivir. Si deseamos aprender a amar debemos proceder en la misma forma en que lo haríamos si quisiéramos aprender cualquier otro arte, música, pintura, carpintería o el arte de la medicina o de la ingeniería.&lt;br /&gt;¿Cuáles son los procesos necesarios para aprender cualquier arte?&lt;br /&gt;El proceso de aprender un arte puede dividirse convenientemente en dos partes: una, el dominio de la teoría; la otra el dominio de la práctica. Si quiero aprender el arte de la medicina, primero debo conocer los hechos relativos al cuerpo humano y a las diversas enfermedades.&lt;br /&gt;Una vez adquirido todo ese conocimiento teórico, aún no soy en modo alguno competente en el arte de la medicina. Sólo llegaré a dominarlo después de mucha práctica, hasta que eventualmente los resultados de mi conocimiento teórico y los de mi práctica se fundan en uno, mi intuición, que es la esencia del dominio de cualquier arte. Pero aparte del aprendizaje de la teoría y de la práctica un tercer factor es necesario para llegar a dominar cualquier arte – el dominio del arte deber ser de fundamental importancia: nada en el mundo debe ser más importante que el arte. Esto es válido para la música, la medicina. La carpintería y el amor. Y quizás radique ahí el motivo de que la gente de nuestra cultura, a pesar de sus evidentes fracasos, sólo en tan contadas ocasiones trata de aprender ese arte. No obstante el profundo anhelo de amor, casi todo lo demás tiene más importancia que el amor: éxito, prestigio, dinero, poder; dedicamos casi toda nuestra energía a descubrir la forma de alcanzar esos objetivos, y muy poca a aprender el arte del amor.&lt;br /&gt;¿Sucede acaso que sólo se consideran dignas de ser aprendidas las cosas que pueden proporcionarnos dinero o prestigio, y que el amor, que "sólo" beneficia al alma, pero que no proporciona ventajas en el sentido moderno, sea un lujo por el cual no tenemos derecho a gastar muchas energías? Sea como fuere, este estudio ha de referirse al arte de amar en el sentido de las divisiones antes mencionadas: primero, examinaré la teoría del amor - lo cual abarcará la mayor parte del libro, y luego analizaré la práctica del amor, si bien es muy poco lo que puede decirse sobre la práctica de éste como en cualquier otro campo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3435536540100427073?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3435536540100427073/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3435536540100427073' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3435536540100427073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3435536540100427073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/es-el-amor-un-arte.html' title='¿Es el amor un arte?'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3864536825585896997</id><published>2009-12-11T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T15:01:52.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;La &lt;b&gt;belleza &lt;/b&gt;es la unión semántica de las partes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c27ba0;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;unidas trabajan juntas de tal manera que a la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c27ba0;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;unidad no se necesita &lt;b&gt;agregar, quitar o alterar&lt;/b&gt; nada más...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c27ba0;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Asi eres tú... como esa unión perfecta llamada belleza...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-3864536825585896997?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3864536825585896997/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3864536825585896997' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3864536825585896997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3864536825585896997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/12/la-belleza-es-la-union-semantica-de-las.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-9105162425968511958</id><published>2009-11-25T13:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T13:21:11.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #191919; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: italic; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock&lt;br /&gt;by T.S. ELIOT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LET&amp;nbsp;us go then, you and I,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;When the evening is spread out against the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="2"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Like a patient etherised upon a table;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="3"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="4"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;The muttering retreats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="5"&gt;&lt;i&gt;5&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="6"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="7"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Streets that follow like a tedious argument&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="8"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Of insidious intent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="9"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;To lead you to an overwhelming question …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="10"&gt;&lt;i&gt;10&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="11"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Let us go and make our visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="12"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;In the room the women come and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="13"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Talking of Michelangelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="14"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="15"&gt;&lt;i&gt;15&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="16"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="17"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="18"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="19"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="20"&gt;&lt;i&gt;20&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And seeing that it was a soft October night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="21"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="22"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And indeed there will be time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="23"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="24"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="25"&gt;&lt;i&gt;25&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;There will be time, there will be time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="26"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="27"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;There will be time to murder and create,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="28"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And time for all the works and days of hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="29"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;That lift and drop a question on your plate;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="30"&gt;&lt;i&gt;30&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Time for you and time for me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="31"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And time yet for a hundred indecisions,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="32"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And for a hundred visions and revisions,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="33"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Before the taking of a toast and tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="34"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;In the room the women come and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="35"&gt;&lt;i&gt;35&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Talking of Michelangelo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="36"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And indeed there will be time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="37"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="38"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Time to turn back and descend the stair,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="39"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="40"&gt;&lt;i&gt;40&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="41"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="42"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="43"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="44"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do I dare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="45"&gt;&lt;i&gt;45&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Disturb the universe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="46"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;In a minute there is time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="47"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="48"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;For I have known them all already, known them all:—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="49"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="50"&gt;&lt;i&gt;50&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="51"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know the voices dying with a dying fall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="52"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Beneath the music from a farther room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="53"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;So how should I presume?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="54"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I have known the eyes already, known them all—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="55"&gt;&lt;i&gt;55&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="56"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="57"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="58"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then how should I begin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="59"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="60"&gt;&lt;i&gt;60&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And how should I presume?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="61"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr align="center"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I have known the arms already, known them all—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="62"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Arms that are braceleted and white and bare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="63"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="64"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is perfume from a dress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" valign="top"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="65"&gt;&lt;i&gt;65&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;That makes me so digress?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="66"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;amp;postID=9105162425968511958" name="67"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;And should I then presume?&lt;br /&gt;And how should I begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sw2fqKzhH-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/22iGAHXjnnw/s1600/fdhfgh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sw2fqKzhH-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/22iGAHXjnnw/s320/fdhfgh.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-9105162425968511958?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/9105162425968511958/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=9105162425968511958' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/9105162425968511958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/9105162425968511958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-song-of-j.html' title='The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sw2fqKzhH-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/22iGAHXjnnw/s72-c/fdhfgh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8266155324482376573</id><published>2009-11-23T23:53:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:51:18.377-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;“Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQ7fLRoVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/0GnUq5hzIqA/s1600/fghd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQ7fLRoVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/0GnUq5hzIqA/s320/fghd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-8266155324482376573?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8266155324482376573/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8266155324482376573' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8266155324482376573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8266155324482376573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/only-as-high-as-i-reach-can-i-grow-only.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQ7fLRoVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/0GnUq5hzIqA/s72-c/fghd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-435965176480466832</id><published>2009-11-23T23:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:51:33.009-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;“When your desires are strong enough, you will appear to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;possess superhuman powers to achieve”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;~Napoleon Hill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQkzfLqyI/AAAAAAAAAZA/I0qVeduwYqI/s1600/hbdfgf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQkzfLqyI/AAAAAAAAAZA/I0qVeduwYqI/s320/hbdfgf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-435965176480466832?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/435965176480466832/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=435965176480466832' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/435965176480466832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/435965176480466832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-your-desires-are-strong-enough-you.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQkzfLqyI/AAAAAAAAAZA/I0qVeduwYqI/s72-c/hbdfgf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5820481379761682115</id><published>2009-11-23T23:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:51:54.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;“Focus more on your desire than on your doubt, and the dream will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;take care of itself. You may be surprised at how easily this happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Your doubts are not as powerful as your desires, unless you make them so.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Marcia Wieder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQabDKkII/AAAAAAAAAY4/G9_HxhAqG3A/s1600/fhfgh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQabDKkII/AAAAAAAAAY4/G9_HxhAqG3A/s320/fhfgh.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5820481379761682115?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5820481379761682115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5820481379761682115' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5820481379761682115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5820481379761682115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/focus-more-on-your-desire-than-on-your.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQabDKkII/AAAAAAAAAY4/G9_HxhAqG3A/s72-c/fhfgh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4590849231465556344</id><published>2009-11-23T23:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:52:24.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;“Whatsoever that be within us that feels, thinks, desires, and animates,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;is something celestial, divine, and, consequently, imperishable.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;~Aristotle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQPGRm81I/AAAAAAAAAYw/2R1V8-mLHxk/s1600/ghjdghj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQPGRm81I/AAAAAAAAAYw/2R1V8-mLHxk/s320/ghjdghj.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4590849231465556344?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4590849231465556344/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4590849231465556344' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4590849231465556344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4590849231465556344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/whatsoever-that-be-within-us-that-feels.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQPGRm81I/AAAAAAAAAYw/2R1V8-mLHxk/s72-c/ghjdghj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6206706925872051794</id><published>2009-11-23T23:49:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:52:36.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;“Every moment of your life is infinitely creative and the universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;is endlessly bountiful. Just put forth a clear enough request, and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;everything your heart desires must come to you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;~Mahatma Gandhi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQCd7MiGI/AAAAAAAAAYo/p0GowEPG4JU/s1600/dfgdsfg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQCd7MiGI/AAAAAAAAAYo/p0GowEPG4JU/s320/dfgdsfg.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6206706925872051794?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6206706925872051794/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6206706925872051794' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6206706925872051794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6206706925872051794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/every-moment-of-your-life-is-infinitely.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuQCd7MiGI/AAAAAAAAAYo/p0GowEPG4JU/s72-c/dfgdsfg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1906102372097183160</id><published>2009-11-23T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T11:53:01.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Childhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuOk3lUgaI/AAAAAAAAAYg/oI3h_KcwRuU/s1600/ggbdf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuOk3lUgaI/AAAAAAAAAYg/oI3h_KcwRuU/s640/ggbdf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Have you seen my Childhood?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm searching for the world that I come from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;'Cause I've been looking around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the lost and found of my heart...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;No one understands me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;They view it as such strange eccentricities...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;'Cause I keep kidding around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Like a child, but pardon me...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1906102372097183160?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1906102372097183160/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1906102372097183160' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1906102372097183160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1906102372097183160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/11/have-you-seen-my-childhood-im-searching.html' title='Childhood'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SwuOk3lUgaI/AAAAAAAAAYg/oI3h_KcwRuU/s72-c/ggbdf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1889837349680875389</id><published>2009-10-07T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T01:30:53.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxP9aZcF_I/AAAAAAAAAYY/wREk2cIf4Ho/s1600-h/allaa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxP9aZcF_I/AAAAAAAAAYY/wREk2cIf4Ho/s320/allaa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;la vitta è bella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1889837349680875389?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1889837349680875389/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1889837349680875389' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1889837349680875389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1889837349680875389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxP9aZcF_I/AAAAAAAAAYY/wREk2cIf4Ho/s72-c/allaa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8072369417860750327</id><published>2009-10-07T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T01:13:44.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>c  '  e s t   l a   v i e  . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxKqPpXBnI/AAAAAAAAAX4/zADHyZMyRF8/s1600-h/yeah+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxKqPpXBnI/AAAAAAAAAX4/zADHyZMyRF8/s320/yeah+(6).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: darkslategrey; font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxKqPpXBnI/AAAAAAAAAX4/zADHyZMyRF8/s1600-h/yeah+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: darkslategrey; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Say what you say, do what you do, feel what you feel, as long as it's real. I said take what you take and give what you give. Just be what you want, just as long as it's real.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: darkslategrey; font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: darkslategrey; font-family: arial, helvetica, verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-8072369417860750327?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8072369417860750327/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8072369417860750327' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8072369417860750327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8072369417860750327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/10/c-e-s-t-l-v-i-e.html' title='c  &apos;  e s t   l a   v i e  . . .'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SsxKqPpXBnI/AAAAAAAAAX4/zADHyZMyRF8/s72-c/yeah+(6).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3932650117015981804</id><published>2009-09-27T21:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T19:18:41.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Gracias por elegirme, cuidarme tanto y por no irte gracias por no decirme todo aquello que me pone siempre triste, por estar siempre a mi lado sin pedirme explicacion por hacer que un dia malo sea el mejor, no paro de decirte: gracias por elegirme, gracias por no fallarme aunque a mi la suerte nunca me acompañe, por juntar todos los trozos de las cosas que rompi y olvidar lo que nunca quise decir y quiero repetirte gracias por elegirme. Si me pierdo en el camino me iluminas con color y ese frio que me hiela ahora es calor, solo decirte gracias por elegirme, gracias por escucharme y fingir que lo que digo es importante por seguir aqui a mi lado sin guardar ningun rencor y cambiar por alegria mi dolor. No quiero irme, gracias por elegirme...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3932650117015981804?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3932650117015981804/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3932650117015981804' title='3 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3932650117015981804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3932650117015981804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/gracias-por-elegirme-cuidarme-tanto-y.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7564709400024103544</id><published>2009-09-27T16:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T16:45:42.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8d8d8d; font-size: 19px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;you always&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;end up&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;just where&lt;br style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /&gt;you need to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #8d8d8d; font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_5EuekWvI/AAAAAAAAAXo/d6DxvCeopOc/s1600-h/eiffel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_5EuekWvI/AAAAAAAAAXo/d6DxvCeopOc/s400/eiffel.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #8d8d8d; font-family: 'courier new'; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7564709400024103544?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7564709400024103544/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7564709400024103544' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7564709400024103544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7564709400024103544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-always-end-up-just-where-you-need.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_5EuekWvI/AAAAAAAAAXo/d6DxvCeopOc/s72-c/eiffel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6324117031180014289</id><published>2009-09-27T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T16:31:03.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oprisco</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ea9999;"&gt;Vean la Galería de fotos de Oprisco:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://oprisco.com/gallery/"&gt;http://oprisco.com/gallery/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6324117031180014289?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6324117031180014289/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6324117031180014289' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6324117031180014289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6324117031180014289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/oprisco.html' title='Oprisco'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7865438358044446569</id><published>2009-09-27T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T16:29:10.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In her shoes {Poema}</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i carry your heart with me, i carry it in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;my heart. i am never without it, anywhere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;by only me is your doing, my darling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i fear no fate, for you are my fate, my sweet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i want no world, for beautiful you are my world, my true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and whatever a sun will always sing is you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;here is the deepest secret nobody knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;i carry your heart, i carry it in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_1LW7FDFI/AAAAAAAAAXg/7zbq2Sxpxq0/s1600-h/lalala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_1LW7FDFI/AAAAAAAAAXg/7zbq2Sxpxq0/s320/lalala.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7865438358044446569?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7865438358044446569/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7865438358044446569' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7865438358044446569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7865438358044446569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-her-shoes-poema.html' title='In her shoes {Poema}'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_1LW7FDFI/AAAAAAAAAXg/7zbq2Sxpxq0/s72-c/lalala.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1347718128938350399</id><published>2009-09-27T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T16:23:17.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_zpCa8gnI/AAAAAAAAAXY/BQMJY0vPS-A/s1600-h/sdf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_zpCa8gnI/AAAAAAAAAXY/BQMJY0vPS-A/s320/sdf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666600; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;There are only two kinds of&lt;br /&gt;people who are really fascinating:&lt;br /&gt;people who know absolutely everything,&lt;br /&gt;and people who know absolutely nothing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;~ Oscar Wilde&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/8272702386755852792-1347718128938350399?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1347718128938350399/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1347718128938350399' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1347718128938350399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1347718128938350399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/there-are-only-two-kinds-of-people-who.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr_zpCa8gnI/AAAAAAAAAXY/BQMJY0vPS-A/s72-c/sdf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6139236419304481514</id><published>2009-09-26T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T23:24:49.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;En el campo de lo que a mí me gusta llamar&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;vida real&lt;/em&gt;, no todo es posible. Si bien de chica la idea siempre me simpatizó y hasta llegué a creerla, un buen día (que aunque no recuerde, supongo que debe haber sido difícil y doloroso) entendí que hay proyectos que nunca vamos a poder concretar, cosas que no vamos a poder hacer, ideas que van a morir en el mismo lugar donde nacieron: nuestra cabeza.&lt;br /&gt;Sin embargo, hace un tiempo descubrí un lugar en donde se consigue todo lo que se quiere. Cualquier idea loca que se haya producido en nuestra mente puede llegar a concretarse de un momento a otro. Puedo volar sin estar encima de un avión, aparecer en el país de las hadas sin haber consumido ninguna sustancia rara, volver a ver a mi abuela sin necesidad de tomarme un bondi hasta el cielo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;El utópico mundo de los sueños&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;es mi medio de transporte a todo lo que en&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;vida real&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;no puedo concretar. Muchos pueden considerar el hecho de soñar una actitud mediocre. Una herramienta que utilizan quienes no pueden lograr cosas en su vida. Sin embargo, yo creo que es mediocre no animarse a soñar. Privarse de semejante lujo por temor a imaginar cosas que luego se convertirán en una desilusión al no ser concretadas.&lt;br /&gt;Hoy opto por soñar. Ser feliz en esos ratos de vuelo efímero, ya sea en el bondi o en plena clase de geografía. Los sueños son mi motor para después implementarlos en la&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;vida real&lt;/em&gt;, exacto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8FJSiVTII/AAAAAAAAAXQ/1UjG4m_Vt9g/s1600-h/yeah+(20).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8FJSiVTII/AAAAAAAAAXQ/1UjG4m_Vt9g/s320/yeah+(20).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6139236419304481514?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6139236419304481514/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6139236419304481514' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6139236419304481514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6139236419304481514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/en-el-campo-de-lo-que-mi-me-gusta.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8FJSiVTII/AAAAAAAAAXQ/1UjG4m_Vt9g/s72-c/yeah+(20).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7435756051943198694</id><published>2009-09-26T23:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T23:20:05.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8EDKuEWOI/AAAAAAAAAXI/tPsXflpFTm8/s1600-h/annie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8EDKuEWOI/AAAAAAAAAXI/tPsXflpFTm8/s320/annie.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;isn't that great today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but it's just fine for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because i'm thinking of you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i've got these far away blues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7435756051943198694?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7435756051943198694/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7435756051943198694' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7435756051943198694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7435756051943198694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/09/isnt-that-great-today-but-its-just-fine.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sr8EDKuEWOI/AAAAAAAAAXI/tPsXflpFTm8/s72-c/annie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-226940821855333086</id><published>2009-08-27T03:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T03:59:51.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La envidia definida como la tristeza ante el bien ajeno, ese no poder soportar que al otro le vaya bien, ambicionar sus goces y posesiones, es también desear que el otro no disfrute de lo que tiene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué es lo que anhela el envidioso? En el fondo, no hace más que contemplar el bien como algo inalcanzable. Las cosas son valiosas cuando están en manos de otro. El deseo de despojar, de que el otro no posea lo que tiene está en la raíz del pecado de la envidia. Es un pecado profundamente insolidario que también tortura y maltrata al propio pecador. Podemos aventurar que el envidioso es más desdichado que malo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El envidioso siembra la idea ante quienes quieran escucharlo de que el otro no merece sus bienes. De esta actitud se desprenden la mentira, la traición, la intriga y el oportunismo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-226940821855333086?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/226940821855333086/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=226940821855333086' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/226940821855333086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/226940821855333086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/la-envidia-definida-como-la-tristeza.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8996092325389013180</id><published>2009-08-24T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T23:28:51.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>butterflies instead</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODEag6IwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/MlvNAbvo9g4/s1600/lalala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODEag6IwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/MlvNAbvo9g4/s320/lalala.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODKF8yLvI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Z7HMlU2i7uw/s1600-h/pecas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODKF8yLvI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Z7HMlU2i7uw/s320/pecas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODMna9vuI/AAAAAAAAAXA/GmL8UMEfLMw/s1600-h/lala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODMna9vuI/AAAAAAAAAXA/GmL8UMEfLMw/s320/lala.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; color: #a2c4c9; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;I lock the door and lock my head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a2c4c9; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;And dream of butterflies instead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 1.3em; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 1.3em; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 5px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a2c4c9;"&gt;Imagination fills the void of my existence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/8272702386755852792-8996092325389013180?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8996092325389013180/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8996092325389013180' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8996092325389013180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8996092325389013180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/butterflies-instead.html' title='butterflies instead'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpODEag6IwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/MlvNAbvo9g4/s72-c/lalala.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-966624699523812311</id><published>2009-08-20T22:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T22:47:07.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So40y1zk71I/AAAAAAAAAU4/3bBm7-_NG4M/s1600-h/la.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So40y1zk71I/AAAAAAAAAU4/3bBm7-_NG4M/s400/la.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372289453541093202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  line-height: 19px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;p class="long"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“I believe laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing; kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day, and I believe in miracles.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="long" style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;- Audrey Hepburn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-966624699523812311?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/966624699523812311/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=966624699523812311' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/966624699523812311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/966624699523812311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-believe-laughing-is-best-calorie.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So40y1zk71I/AAAAAAAAAU4/3bBm7-_NG4M/s72-c/la.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6657113214711804706</id><published>2009-08-20T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T22:26:05.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rayuela - Cortázar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "&gt;" Toco tu boca, con un dedo toco el borde de tu boca, voy dibujándola como si saliera de mi mano, como si por primera vez tu boca se entreabriera, y me basta cerrar los ojos para deshacerlo todo y recomenzar, hago nacer cada vez la boca que deseo, la boca que mi mano elige y te dibuja en la cara, una boca elegida entre todas, con soberana libertad elegida por mí para dibujarla con mi mano en tu cara, y que por un azar que no busco comprender coincide exactamente con tu boca que sonríe por debajo de la que mi mano te dibuja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me miras, de cerca me miras, cada vez más de cerca y entonces jugamos al cíclope, nos miramos cada vez más de cerca y nuestros ojos se agrandan, se acercan entre sí, se superponen y los cíclopes se miran, respirando confundidos, las bocas se encuentran y luchan tibiamente, mordiéndose con los labios, apoyando apenas la lengua en los dientes, jugando en sus recintos donde un aire pesado va y viene con un perfume viejo y un silencio. Entonces mis manos buscan hundirse en tu pelo, acariciar lentamente la profundidad de tu pelo mientras nos besamos como si tuviéramos la boca llena de flores o de peces, de movimientos vivos, de fragancia oscura. Y si nos mordemos el dolor es dulce, y si nos ahogamos en un breve y terrible absorber simultáneo del aliento, esa instantánea muerte es bella. Y hay una sola saliva y un solo sabor a fruta madura, y yo te siento temblar contra mi como una luna en el agua."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6657113214711804706?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6657113214711804706/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6657113214711804706' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6657113214711804706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6657113214711804706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/rayuela-cortazar.html' title='Rayuela - Cortázar'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4281580214551921488</id><published>2009-08-20T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T22:15:38.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pride and prejuice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; color: rgb(0, 0, 51); font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Cuando todos se habían ido, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;como si se propusiera exasperarse más aún contra Darcy, se dedicó a repasar todas las cartas que había recibido de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Jane &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;desde que se hallaba en &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Kent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;No contenían lamentaciones ni nada que denotase que se acordaba de lo pasado ni que indicase que sufría por ello; pero en conjunto y casi en cada línea faltaba la alegría que solía caracterizar el estilo de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Jane, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;alegría que, como era natural en un carácter tan tranquilo y afectuoso, casi nunca se había eclipsado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;se fijaba en todas las frases reveladoras de desasosiego, con una atención que no había puesto en la primera lectura. El vergonzoso alarde de Darcy por el daño que había causado le hacía sentir más vivamente el sufrimiento de su hermana. Le consolaba un poco pensar que dentro de dos días estaría de nuevo al lado de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Jane &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;y podría contribuir a que recobrase el ánimo con los cuidados que sólo el cariño puede dar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;No podía pensar en la marcha de Darcy sin recordar que su primo se iba con él; pero el coronel Fitzwilliam le había dado a entender con claridad que no podía pensar en ella.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Mientras estaba meditando todo esto, la sorprendió la campanilla de la puerta, y abrigó la esperanza de que fuese el mismo coronel Fitzwilliam que ya una vez las había visitado por la tarde y a lo mejor iba a preguntarle cómo se encontraba. Pero pronto desechó esa idea y siguió pensando en sus cosas cuando, con total sobresalto, vio que Darcy entraba en el salón. Inmediatamente empezó a preguntarle, muy acelerado, por su salud, atribuyendo la visita a su deseo de saber que se encontraba mejor. Ella le contestó cortés pero fríamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;estaba asombrada pero no dijo ni una palabra. Después de un silencio de varios minutos se acercó a ella y muy agitado declaró:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––He luchado en vano. Ya no puedo más. Soy incapaz de contener mis sentimientos. Permítame que le diga que la admiro y la amo apasionadamente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;El estupor de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;fue inexpresable. Enrojeció, se quedó mirándole fijamente, indecisa y muda. El lo interpretó como un signo favorable y siguió manifestándole todo lo que sentía por ella desde hacía tiempo. Se explicaba bien, pero no sólo de su amor tenía que hablar, y no fue más elocuente en el tema de la ternura que en el del orgullo. La inferioridad de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;la degradación que significaba para él, los obstáculos de familia que el buen juicio le había hecho anteponer siempre a la estimación. Hablaba de estas cosas con un ardor que reflejaba todo lo que le herían, pero todo ello no era lo más indicado para apoyar su demanda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;A pesar de toda la antipatía tan profundamente arraigada que le tenía, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;no pudo permanecer insensible a las manifestaciones de afecto de un hombre como Darcy, y aunque su opinión no varió en lo más mínimo, se entristeció al principio por la decepción que iba a llevarse; pero el lenguaje que éste empleó luego fue tan insultante que toda la compasión se convirtió en ira. Sin embargo, trató de contestarle con calma cuando acabó de hablar. Concluyó asegurándole la firmeza de su amor que, a pesar de todos sus esfuerzos, no había podido vencer, y esperando que sería recompensado con la aceptación de su mano. Por su manera de hablar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;advirtió que Darcy no ponía en duda que su respuesta sería favorable. Hablaba de temores y de ansiedad, pero su aspecto revelaba una seguridad absoluta. Esto la exasperaba aún más y cuando él terminó, le contestó con las mejillas encendidas por la ira:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––En estos casos creo que se acostumbra a expresar cierto agradecimiento por los sentimientos manifestados, aunque no puedan ser igualmente correspondidos. Es natural que se sienta esta obligación, y si yo sintiese gratitud, le daría las gracias. Pero no puedo; nunca he ambicionado su consideración, y usted me la ha otorgado muy en contra de su voluntad. Siento haber hecho daño a alguien, pero ha sido inconscientemente, y espero que ese daño dure poco tiempo. Los mismos sentimientos que, según dice, le impidieron darme a conocer sus intenciones durante tanto tiempo, vencerán sin dificultad ese sufrimiento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Darcy, que estaba apoyado en la repisa de la chimenea con los ojos clavados en el rostro de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;parecía recibir sus palabras con tanto resentimiento como sorpresa. Su tez palideció de rabia y todas sus facciones mostraban la turbación de su ánimo. Luchaba por guardar la compostura, y no abriría los labios hasta que creyese haberlo conseguido. Este silencio fue terrible para &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Por fin, forzando la voz para aparentar calma, dijo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¿Y es ésta toda la respuesta que voy a tener el honor de esperar? Quizá debiera preguntar por qué se me rechaza con tan escasa cortesía. Pero no tiene la menor importancia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––También podría yo replicó Elizabeth–– preguntar por qué con tan evidente propósito de ofenderme y de insultarme me dice que le gusto en contra de su voluntad, contra su buen juicio y hasta contra su modo de ser. ¿No es ésta una excusa para mi falta de cortesía, si es que en realidad la he cometido? Pero, además, he recibido otras provocaciones, lo sabe usted muy bien. Aunque mis sentimientos no hubiesen sido contrarios a los suyos, aunque hubiesen sido indiferentes o incluso favorables, ¿cree usted que habría algo que pudiese tentarme a aceptar al hombre que ha sido el culpable de arruinar, tal vez para siempre, la felicidad de una hermana muy querida?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Al oír estas palabras, Darcy mudó de color; pero la conmoción fue pasajera y siguió escuchando sin intención de interrumpirla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Yo tengo todas las razones del mundo para tener un mal concepto de usted ––continuó &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth––. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;No hay nada que pueda excusar su injusto y ruin proceder. No se atreverá usted a negar que fue el principal si no el único culpable de la separación del señor Bingley y mi hermana, exponiendo al uno a las censuras de la gente por caprichoso y voluble, y al otro a la burla por sus fallidas esperanzas, sumiéndolos a los dos en la mayor desventura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Hizo una pausa y vio, indignada, que Darcy la estaba escuchando con un aire que indicaba no hallarse en absoluto conmovido por ningún tipo de remordimiento. Incluso la miraba con una sonrisa de petulante incredulidad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¿Puede negar que ha hecho esto? ––repitió ella.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Fingiendo estar sereno, Darcy contestó:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––No he de negar que hice todo lo que estuvo en mi mano para separar a mi amigo de su hermana, ni que me alegro del resultado. He sido más amable con él que conmigo mismo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;desdeñó aparentar que notaba esa sutil reflexión, pero no se le escapó su significado, y no consiguió conciliarla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Pero no sólo en esto se funda mi antipatía ––continuó &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;. Mi opinión de usted se formó mucho antes de que este asunto tuviese lugar. Su modo de ser quedó revelado por una historia que me contó el señor Wickham hace algunos meses. ¿Qué puede decir a esto? ¿Con qué acto ficticio de amistad puede defenderse ahora? ¿Con qué falsedad puede justificar en este caso su dominio sobre los demás?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Se interesa usted muy vivamente por lo que afecta a ese caballero ––dijo Darcy en un tono menos tranquilo y con el rostro enrojecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¿Quién, que conozca las penas que ha pasado, puede evitar sentir interés por él?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¡Las penas que ha pasado! exclamó Darcy despectivamente––. Sí, realmente, unas penas inmensas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¡Por su culpa! ––exclamó &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;con energía––. Usted le redujo a su actual relativa pobreza. Usted le negó el porvenir que, como bien debe saber, estaba destinado para él. En los mejores años de la vida le privó de una independencia a la que no sólo tenía derecho sino que merecía. ¡Hizo todo esto! Y aún es capaz de ridiculizar y burlarse de sus penas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––¡Y ésa es –– gritó Darcy mientras se paseaba como una exhalación por el cuarto –– la opinión que tiene usted de mí!  ¡Ésta es la estimación en la que me tiene!  Le doy las gracias por habérmelo explicado tan abiertamente.   Mis faltas,  según su cálculo,  son verdaderamente enormes. Pero puede         ––añadió deteniéndose y volviéndose hacia ella–– que estas ofensas hubiesen sido pasadas por alto si no hubiese herido su orgullo con mi honesta confesión de los reparos que durante largo tiempo me impidieron tomar una resolución. Me habría ahorrado estas amargas acusaciones si hubiese sido más hábil y le hubiese ocultado mi lucha, halagándola al hacerle creer que había dado este paso impulsado por la razón, por la reflexión, por una incondicional y pura inclinación, por lo que sea. Pero aborrezco todo tipo de engaño y no me avergüenzo de los sentimientos que he manifestado, eran naturales y justos. ¿Cómo podía suponer usted que me agradase la inferioridad de su familia y que me congratulase por la perspectiva de tener unos parientes cuya condición están tan por debajo de la mía?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;La irritación de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;crecía a cada instante; aun así intentó con todas sus fuerzas expresarse con mesura cuando dijo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Se equivoca usted, señor Darcy, si supone que lo que me ha afectado es su forma de declararse; si se figura que me habría evitado el mal rato de rechazarle si se hubiera comportado de modo más caballeroso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;se dio cuenta de que estaba a punto de interrumpirla, pero no dijo nada y ella continuó:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Usted no habría podido ofrecerme su mano de ningún modo que me hubiese tentado a aceptarla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;De nuevo su asombro era obvio. La miró con una expresión de incredulidad y humillación al mismo tiempo, y ella siguió diciendo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Desde el principio, casi desde el primer instante en que le conocí, sus modales me convencieron de su arrogancia, de su vanidad y de su egoísta desdén hacia los sentimientos ajenos; me disgustaron de tal modo que hicieron nacer en mí la desaprobación que los sucesos posteriores convirtieron en firme desagrado; y no hacía un mes aún que le conocía cuando supe que usted sería el último hombre en la tierra con el que podría casarme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;––Ha dicho usted bastante, señorita. Comprendo perfectamente sus sentimientos y sólo me resta avergonzarme de los míos. Perdone por haberle hecho perder tanto tiempo, y acepte mis buenos deseos de salud y felicidad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;Dicho esto salió precipitadamente de la habitación, y &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Elizabeth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;le oyó en seguida abrir la puerta de la entrada y salir de la casa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Tahoma, Verdana, arial, Helvetica; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;La confusión de su mente le hacía sufrir intensamente. No podía sostenerse de pie y tuvo que sentarse porque las piernas le flaqueaban. Lloró durante media hora. Su asombro al recordar lo ocurrido crecía cada vez más. Haber recibido una proposición de matrimonio de Darcy que había estado enamorado de ella durante tantos meses, y tan enamorado que quería casarse a pesar de todas las objeciones que le habían inducido a impedir que su amigo se casara con &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Jane, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;y que debieron pasar con igual fuerza en su propio caso, resultaba increíble. Le era grato haber inspirado un afecto tan vehemente. Pero el orgullo, su abominable orgullo, su desvergonzada confesión de lo que había hecho con &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES"&gt;Jane, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD"&gt;su imperdonable descaro al reconocerlo sin ni siquiera tratar de disculparse, y la insensibilidad con que había hablado de Wickham a pesar de no haber negado su crueldad para con él, no tardaron en prevalecer sobre la compasión que había sentido al pensar en su amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4281580214551921488?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4281580214551921488/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4281580214551921488' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4281580214551921488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4281580214551921488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/pride-and-prejuice.html' title='pride and prejuice'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-446085346633790280</id><published>2009-08-20T22:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T22:10:55.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hoy es el día en que disfruto el placer de triunfar sobre un ánimo dispuesto a rechazarme ya armado de prejuicios contra mis acciones anteriores. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-446085346633790280?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/446085346633790280/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=446085346633790280' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/446085346633790280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/446085346633790280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/hoy-es-el-dia-en-que-disfruto-el-placer.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5916586209260694748</id><published>2009-08-20T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T21:50:41.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;places I want to &lt;b&gt;visit&lt;/b&gt; before I died:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nho5QN3I/AAAAAAAAAUw/7BCPY9EHPsY/s1600-h/vernazza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nho5QN3I/AAAAAAAAAUw/7BCPY9EHPsY/s400/vernazza.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274864366303090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nhODNV_I/AAAAAAAAAUo/e2CTooWp9iw/s1600-h/suecia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nhODNV_I/AAAAAAAAAUo/e2CTooWp9iw/s400/suecia.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274857160300530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nguOsPtI/AAAAAAAAAUg/4dJAwy_hgvE/s1600-h/paris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nguOsPtI/AAAAAAAAAUg/4dJAwy_hgvE/s400/paris.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274848618528466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4ngQDb8iI/AAAAAAAAAUY/VLUJxP_OY0g/s1600-h/notredame.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4ngQDb8iI/AAAAAAAAAUY/VLUJxP_OY0g/s400/notredame.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274840518259234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nVktxqLI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/I--MY8e1KWE/s1600-h/londres1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nVktxqLI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/I--MY8e1KWE/s400/londres1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274657085991090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nVMjuDgI/AAAAAAAAAUI/gaHKvAAjxKo/s1600-h/londres.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nVMjuDgI/AAAAAAAAAUI/gaHKvAAjxKo/s400/londres.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274650601360898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUyzwlNI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4Pyd1mBfVv4/s1600-h/j.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUyzwlNI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4Pyd1mBfVv4/s400/j.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274643689313490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUQeF6jI/AAAAAAAAAT4/OOoOErbzLew/s1600-h/hg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUQeF6jI/AAAAAAAAAT4/OOoOErbzLew/s400/hg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274634471631410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUAGs_YI/AAAAAAAAATw/Sbib0MUxlP4/s1600-h/amsterdam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nUAGs_YI/AAAAAAAAATw/Sbib0MUxlP4/s400/amsterdam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372274630078561666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&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/8272702386755852792-5916586209260694748?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5916586209260694748/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5916586209260694748' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5916586209260694748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5916586209260694748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/places-i-want-to-visit-before-i-died.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4nho5QN3I/AAAAAAAAAUw/7BCPY9EHPsY/s72-c/vernazza.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7227467181310402975</id><published>2009-08-20T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T21:30:24.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4h-pbrDGI/AAAAAAAAATo/WwQFBV3lwa0/s1600-h/gfhfghf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 355px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4h-pbrDGI/AAAAAAAAATo/WwQFBV3lwa0/s400/gfhfghf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372268765657107554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(12, 32, 53); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I wish I was like you, easily amused&lt;br /&gt;Find my nest of salt, everything is my fault&lt;br /&gt;I'll take all the blame, equa seafoam shame&lt;br /&gt;Sunburn with freezerburn&lt;br /&gt;Choking on the ashes of her enemy&lt;br /&gt;All in all is all we all are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7227467181310402975?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7227467181310402975/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7227467181310402975' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7227467181310402975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7227467181310402975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-wish-i-was-like-you-easily-amused.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4h-pbrDGI/AAAAAAAAATo/WwQFBV3lwa0/s72-c/gfhfghf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-2359018514917108884</id><published>2009-08-20T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T21:25:52.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4hrzaEguI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZMV5s74SsRQ/s1600-h/sefasdf.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 393px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4hrzaEguI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZMV5s74SsRQ/s400/sefasdf.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372268441917227746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te adentraste a mi alma, y veo que tal vez no te irás de aquí jamás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-2359018514917108884?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/2359018514917108884/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=2359018514917108884' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2359018514917108884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2359018514917108884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/te-adentraste-mi-alma-y-veo-que-tal-vez_20.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So4hrzaEguI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZMV5s74SsRQ/s72-c/sefasdf.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6655805553841385003</id><published>2009-08-20T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:47:05.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So2LRroguFI/AAAAAAAAATY/EtJXV13f8zs/s1600-h/i.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So2LRroguFI/AAAAAAAAATY/EtJXV13f8zs/s400/i.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372103066409547858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;color:#808080;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;La libertad de amar no es menos sagrada que la libertad de pensar. Lo que hoy se llama &lt;i&gt;adulterio&lt;/i&gt;, antaño se llamó &lt;i&gt;herejía.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6655805553841385003?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6655805553841385003/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6655805553841385003' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6655805553841385003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6655805553841385003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/la-libertad-de-amar-no-es-menos-sagrada.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/So2LRroguFI/AAAAAAAAATY/EtJXV13f8zs/s72-c/i.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5518948189605307006</id><published>2009-08-18T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:49:13.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sot2ImO_v1I/AAAAAAAAATQ/gyIPqQnTZiw/s1600-h/sv7.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sot2ImO_v1I/AAAAAAAAATQ/gyIPqQnTZiw/s400/sv7.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371516870643924818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;te adentraste a mi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;alma&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;, y veo que tal vez no te irás de aquí&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;jamás&lt;/b&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-5518948189605307006?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5518948189605307006/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5518948189605307006' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5518948189605307006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5518948189605307006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/te-adentraste-mi-alma-y-veo-que-tal-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sot2ImO_v1I/AAAAAAAAATQ/gyIPqQnTZiw/s72-c/sv7.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4632013597468955179</id><published>2009-08-18T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:38:41.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotzIlv_VgI/AAAAAAAAATI/DkQNSZn-WcE/s1600-h/fg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 386px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotzIlv_VgI/AAAAAAAAATI/DkQNSZn-WcE/s400/fg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371513571978991106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4632013597468955179?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4632013597468955179/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4632013597468955179' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4632013597468955179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4632013597468955179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotzIlv_VgI/AAAAAAAAATI/DkQNSZn-WcE/s72-c/fg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3048939262096240384</id><published>2009-08-18T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:28:11.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotw_yCpZRI/AAAAAAAAATA/g9mUGvom8YA/s1600-h/hdfh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotw_yCpZRI/AAAAAAAAATA/g9mUGvom8YA/s400/hdfh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371511221636392210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nombre:&lt;/b&gt; Carolina  &lt;b&gt;Sexo:&lt;/b&gt; Mujer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Significado:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La que es fuerte. De origen germano.&lt;br /&gt;Variante: Carla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caracteristicas: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es seductora, sociable, creativa y busca&lt;br /&gt;siempre alcanzar sus ideales. Es cariñosa&lt;br /&gt;con sus seres queridos, los cuales&lt;br /&gt;son fundamentales en su vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amor:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Da todo de sí misma a la&lt;br /&gt;persona que ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fecha: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 de Octubre (Venerable Carolina B. Carré de Malberg).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Naturaleza Emocional:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturaleza emotiva vehemente. Se manifiesta en la expresión artística, las cosas del honor y las del humor. Ama el color, las proporciones y el ánimo alegre. Le gusta sentirse complementado. Enfoca su voluntad directamente hacia fines psíquicos previamente establecidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Naturaleza Expresiva: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es minucioso. Se expresa de manera de llamar la atención y se siente superior. Busca la prosperidad y la realización. Ama la ejecución, la planificación y aportar ideas. Posee una rígida disciplina debido a su sentido del orden. En la expresión de su carácter cobran especial fuerza la austeridad y la lentitud en sus decisiones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;- Diminutivo de Carolina:&lt;/b&gt; Carol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numero de suerte: &lt;/b&gt;4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3048939262096240384?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3048939262096240384/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3048939262096240384' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3048939262096240384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3048939262096240384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/nombre-carolina-sexo-mujer-significado.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotw_yCpZRI/AAAAAAAAATA/g9mUGvom8YA/s72-c/hdfh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6891766216019566316</id><published>2009-08-18T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:24:55.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotwGUx9OLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/V8Qgfrq6WU8/s1600-h/yjty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotwGUx9OLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/V8Qgfrq6WU8/s400/yjty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371510234529216690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I thought youd be out of my mind&lt;br /&gt;And Id finally found a way to learn to live without you&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was just a matter of time&lt;br /&gt;Till I had a hundred reasons not to think about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But its just not so&lt;br /&gt;And after all this time, I still cant let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive still got your face&lt;br /&gt;Painted on my heart&lt;br /&gt;Scrawled upon my soul&lt;br /&gt;Etched upon my memory, baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive got your kiss&lt;br /&gt;Still burning on my lips&lt;br /&gt;The touch of my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;This love so deep inside of me, baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive tried everything that I can&lt;br /&gt;To get my heart to forget you&lt;br /&gt;But it just cant seem to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess its just no use&lt;br /&gt;In every part of me&lt;br /&gt;Is still a part of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Something in your eyes keeps haunting me&lt;br /&gt;Im trying to escape you&lt;br /&gt;And I know there aint no way to&lt;br /&gt;To chase you from my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-6891766216019566316?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6891766216019566316/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6891766216019566316' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6891766216019566316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6891766216019566316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-thought-youd-be-out-of-my-mind-and-id.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SotwGUx9OLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/V8Qgfrq6WU8/s72-c/yjty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6641668307891972985</id><published>2009-08-18T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:22:20.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotvc8f237I/AAAAAAAAASw/1OP8BYqdnKY/s1600-h/k.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotvc8f237I/AAAAAAAAASw/1OP8BYqdnKY/s400/k.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371509523636215730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;How to describe you my love?&lt;br /&gt;the sweet owner of my passionate and devoted heart&lt;br /&gt;who was secretly loved and desired ever from the first sight&lt;br /&gt;and just by chance, ended in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Becoming to me the most shining light&lt;br /&gt;and real apple of my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how to explain what i feel?, looking at the mirror of your soul&lt;br /&gt;two green jades that sparkle with such light&lt;br /&gt;that every time i turn to face those eyes,&lt;br /&gt;just can't resist falling in love by a houndred times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could i continue my life without you?&lt;br /&gt;it's you the great inspiration of every time i do&lt;br /&gt;and it will be certanly you the cause of the deepest pain&lt;br /&gt;if i get to know, your love for me is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to express exactly what i feel?&lt;br /&gt;should i summon Lucifer, and with him deal?&lt;br /&gt;to keep you forever by my side&lt;br /&gt;because caroline, with out you, i'm not alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6641668307891972985?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6641668307891972985/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6641668307891972985' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6641668307891972985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6641668307891972985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-to-describe-you-my-love-sweet-owner.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sotvc8f237I/AAAAAAAAASw/1OP8BYqdnKY/s72-c/k.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1658596390559826396</id><published>2009-08-12T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T00:43:07.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJyPrLMY8I/AAAAAAAAASo/xsfGdeOwR6s/s1600-h/fg.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJyPrLMY8I/AAAAAAAAASo/xsfGdeOwR6s/s400/fg.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368979319392330690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;ay días que nos cuesta sonreir; en que las horas, no pasan como de costumbre, sino que pesan, duelen. Y la reflexión y la confusión, no te llevan a ningún lado.&lt;br /&gt;Es como si nuestra alma, se hubiera ido fuera de nosotros. Que no encontráramos dentro nuestro, ningún espacio donde exista paz.&lt;br /&gt;¿por qué tener que sufrir en la vida?&lt;br /&gt;Algunas veces las personas llegan a nuestras vidas y rápidamente nos damos cuenta de que esto pasa porque debe de ser así, para servir un propósito, para enseñar una lección, para descubrir quienes somos en realidad, para enseñarnos lo que deseamos alcanzar.&lt;br /&gt;Vos no sabes quiénes son estas personas, pero cuando fijas tu ojos en ellos sabes y comprendes que ellos afectarán tu vida de una manera profunda.&lt;br /&gt;La gente que conoces afectan tu vida, las caídas y los triunfos que tú experimentas crean la persona que eres.&lt;br /&gt;No permito que otro inculque en mí pensamientos que yo no quiero, porque aunque mis oídos oigan, mi inteligencia filtra y mi ser interior elige, día a día, lo mejor para mí.&lt;br /&gt;Queda prohibido no luchar por lo que quiero, abandonarlo todo por miedo, hacerme la graciosa con tal de que te recuerden, olvidar a toda la gente que me quiere, no hacer las cosas por mi misma, tener miedo a la vida y a sus compromisos, no vivir cada día como si fuera un último suspiro, no intentar comprender a las personas, ECHAR DE MENOS A ALGUIEN, olvidar su pasado y pagarlo con su presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Cada persona que pasa en nuestra vida es única y siempre, siempre, deja un poco de sí y se lleva un poco de nosotros.)&lt;/i&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/8272702386755852792-1658596390559826396?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1658596390559826396/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1658596390559826396' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1658596390559826396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1658596390559826396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/ay-dias-que-nos-cuesta-sonreir-en-que.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJyPrLMY8I/AAAAAAAAASo/xsfGdeOwR6s/s72-c/fg.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4533382774679921333</id><published>2009-08-12T00:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T00:28:56.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJvDls3sdI/AAAAAAAAASg/me4f4YBHSQI/s1600-h/yuiy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJvDls3sdI/AAAAAAAAASg/me4f4YBHSQI/s400/yuiy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368975813229654482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(57, 57, 57);  line-height: 15px; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div id="photo" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;p id="caption" style="margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; width: 500px; "&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;El universo nos devuelve lo que le damos, no lo que pedimos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Todo aquello que queramos que los otros hagan con nosotros, es lo que nosotros debemos hacer con los otros. Ni mas ni menos lo que hacemos al otro, nos lo hacemos a nosotros mismos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(57, 57, 57);  line-height: 15px; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div id="photo" style="margin-top: 2em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;p id="caption" style="text-align: center;margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-left: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; width: 500px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: normal;font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:arial;font-size:7;color:#393939;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 15px;font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" text-decoration: underline;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&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/8272702386755852792-4533382774679921333?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4533382774679921333/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4533382774679921333' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4533382774679921333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4533382774679921333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/page-graphics.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoJvDls3sdI/AAAAAAAAASg/me4f4YBHSQI/s72-c/yuiy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8161263894168743133</id><published>2009-08-12T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T00:32:25.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNTAwNjA*NTY2MDkmcHQ9MTI1MDA2MDUxMDAwMCZwPTE4MzkwMSZkPWNoZXJyeWJhbS5jb2*mZz*xJm89MzZiMjQ3MTg4MDIyNGQwOGFjODlkN2NhZjRjNTM4Njk=.gif" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z209/cherrbam/graphics/graphics-photography/photography054.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br 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style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNTAwNjA1NjU4MTImcHQ9MTI1MDA2MDU3MjEwOSZwPTE4MzkwMSZkPWNoZXJyeWJhbS5jb2*mZz*xJm89MzZiMjQ3MTg4MDIyNGQwOGFjODlkN2NhZjRjNTM4Njk=.gif" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com/" title="Photography Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z209/cherrbam/graphics/graphics-photography/photography062.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br 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href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/photography-graphics-photography.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6228446064894680858</id><published>2009-08-11T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T00:15:44.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH_GciBffI/AAAAAAAAARo/PFPvcC1prrA/s1600-h/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH_GciBffI/AAAAAAAAARo/PFPvcC1prrA/s400/12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852717005536754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH_F7_VwKI/AAAAAAAAARg/h2EQUlkIwd4/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 342px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH_F7_VwKI/AAAAAAAAARg/h2EQUlkIwd4/s400/11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852708270129314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-_QvdiGI/AAAAAAAAARY/H73qVGCbyJQ/s1600-h/9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-_QvdiGI/AAAAAAAAARY/H73qVGCbyJQ/s400/9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852593581590626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--4pMZxI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Z78DMzrWgfA/s1600-h/8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--4pMZxI/AAAAAAAAARQ/Z78DMzrWgfA/s400/8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852587112851218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--vm-WaI/AAAAAAAAARI/C8Ym8jWpBh0/s1600-h/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--vm-WaI/AAAAAAAAARI/C8Ym8jWpBh0/s400/7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852584687622562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--Rl8v6I/AAAAAAAAARA/oEy44upvIpA/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--Rl8v6I/AAAAAAAAARA/oEy44upvIpA/s400/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852576630259618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--HtVv4I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/zH4uRajJP48/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH--HtVv4I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/zH4uRajJP48/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852573976903554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border="0" width="0" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyNTAwNjEzMDI1MzEmcHQ9MTI1MDA2MTMwODk1MyZwPTE4MzkwMSZkPWNoZXJyeWJhbS5jb2*mZz*xJm89MzZiMjQ3MTg4MDIyNGQwOGFjODlkN2NhZjRjNTM4Njk=.gif" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cherrybam.com" title="Page Graphics" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://i189.photobucket.com/albums/z209/cherrbam/graphics/graphics-page/page075.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-t83ELfI/AAAAAAAAAQw/EmutEZ9v9DA/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-t83ELfI/AAAAAAAAAQw/EmutEZ9v9DA/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852296186998258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-thWeJUI/AAAAAAAAAQo/M5zOjJydpr0/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-thWeJUI/AAAAAAAAAQo/M5zOjJydpr0/s400/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852288802530626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-taA9T4I/AAAAAAAAAQg/v8vrsY5htY8/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-taA9T4I/AAAAAAAAAQg/v8vrsY5htY8/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852286833250178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-s4ypvhI/AAAAAAAAAQY/fL63ryJceaU/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-s4ypvhI/AAAAAAAAAQY/fL63ryJceaU/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852277914877458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-ss6bZyI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/yHJ-IuNWPBI/s1600-h/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH-ss6bZyI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/yHJ-IuNWPBI/s400/0.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368852274726266658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102);  font-style: italic; line-height: 18px; font-family:georgia;font-size:12px;"&gt;It's how we spend our time&lt;br /&gt;here and now, that really matters.&lt;br /&gt;If you are fed up with the way you have come&lt;br /&gt;to interact with time, change it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;~Marcia Wieder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6228446064894680858?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6228446064894680858/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6228446064894680858' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6228446064894680858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6228446064894680858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-how-we-spend-our-time-here-and-now.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoH_GciBffI/AAAAAAAAARo/PFPvcC1prrA/s72-c/12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5655541779797718459</id><published>2009-08-11T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T15:24:37.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoHvlPoaipI/AAAAAAAAAQI/WBmfRBzrsLU/s1600-h/jedty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoHvlPoaipI/AAAAAAAAAQI/WBmfRBzrsLU/s400/jedty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368835653932583570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;Soñar como si fueses a vivir para siempre. Vivir como si fueses a morir hoy (James Dean)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-5655541779797718459?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5655541779797718459/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5655541779797718459' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5655541779797718459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5655541779797718459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/08/sonar-como-si-fueses-vivir-para-siempre.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SoHvlPoaipI/AAAAAAAAAQI/WBmfRBzrsLU/s72-c/jedty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-948281540536398613</id><published>2009-05-12T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:16:29.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgplrbSYJeI/AAAAAAAAAQA/px1Tey87HIw/s1600-h/hrtfh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgplrbSYJeI/AAAAAAAAAQA/px1Tey87HIw/s400/hrtfh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335188505307391458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(141, 141, 141); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 23px; font-style: italic; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;I'm taking an aeroplane&lt;br /&gt;across the world&lt;br /&gt;to follow my heart........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-948281540536398613?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/948281540536398613/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=948281540536398613' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/948281540536398613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/948281540536398613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-taking-aeroplane-across-world-to.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgplrbSYJeI/AAAAAAAAAQA/px1Tey87HIw/s72-c/hrtfh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1694161548020089314</id><published>2009-05-12T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:13:32.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%; "&gt;"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%; "&gt;a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%; "&gt;or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%; "&gt;to turn a life around." - &lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6rGpvgI/AAAAAAAAAP4/a9UFbV0V6KU/s1600-h/photography,elephant,animals,friendship,funny,child-335a205169b5abb2113148947c4ccc37_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6rGpvgI/AAAAAAAAAP4/a9UFbV0V6KU/s400/photography,elephant,animals,friendship,funny,child-335a205169b5abb2113148947c4ccc37_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335187667739590146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6uryO8I/AAAAAAAAAPw/BGs_DUHRnSk/s1600-h/2104847361_f39b3480d7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6uryO8I/AAAAAAAAAPw/BGs_DUHRnSk/s400/2104847361_f39b3480d7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335187668700642242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6Z6kEOI/AAAAAAAAAPo/OZtkdMbYMf0/s1600-h/advice,attitude,black,,,white,creative,graphic,sayings-c0d6201d05921c1929ac21799d9ba055_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6Z6kEOI/AAAAAAAAAPo/OZtkdMbYMf0/s400/advice,attitude,black,,,white,creative,graphic,sayings-c0d6201d05921c1929ac21799d9ba055_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335187663125483746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6R70YPI/AAAAAAAAAPg/Oso9iNsxLbk/s1600-h/fly,photograph,sky,art,colors,green-912a1a5e5322a520dc5ab30061569a0d_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6R70YPI/AAAAAAAAAPg/Oso9iNsxLbk/s400/fly,photograph,sky,art,colors,green-912a1a5e5322a520dc5ab30061569a0d_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335187660983263474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6Lvk6gI/AAAAAAAAAPY/30c5ttDlwVE/s1600-h/advice,attitude,black,,,white,creative,graphic,sayings-c0d6201d05921c1929ac21799d9ba055_h.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6Lvk6gI/AAAAAAAAAPY/30c5ttDlwVE/s400/advice,attitude,black,,,white,creative,graphic,sayings-c0d6201d05921c1929ac21799d9ba055_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335187659321305602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1694161548020089314?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1694161548020089314/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1694161548020089314' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1694161548020089314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1694161548020089314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/too-often-we-underestimate-power-of.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpk6rGpvgI/AAAAAAAAAP4/a9UFbV0V6KU/s72-c/photography,elephant,animals,friendship,funny,child-335a205169b5abb2113148947c4ccc37_h.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4876241404103717886</id><published>2009-05-12T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:04:11.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijKS-NqI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Q0dQUWKnNqw/s1600-h/g4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijKS-NqI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Q0dQUWKnNqw/s400/g4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335185064772646562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijGDIjMI/AAAAAAAAAPI/E8EjzovUVhw/s1600-h/g3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijGDIjMI/AAAAAAAAAPI/E8EjzovUVhw/s400/g3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335185063632473282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijNEKsTI/AAAAAAAAAPA/adFnVN36x9U/s1600-h/g2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijNEKsTI/AAAAAAAAAPA/adFnVN36x9U/s400/g2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335185065515856178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpii-HcVcI/AAAAAAAAAO4/bRSB_B-XroE/s1600-h/g1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpii-HcVcI/AAAAAAAAAO4/bRSB_B-XroE/s400/g1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335185061503063490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  line-height: 20px; font-size:17px;"&gt;"We &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;inherit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; the earth&lt;br /&gt;from our ancestors,&lt;br /&gt;we &lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; "&gt;borrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; it from&lt;br /&gt;our &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;children&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- native american proverb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4876241404103717886?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4876241404103717886/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4876241404103717886' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4876241404103717886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4876241404103717886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-do-not-inherit-earth-from-our.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpijKS-NqI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/Q0dQUWKnNqw/s72-c/g4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5375435489596473383</id><published>2009-05-12T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T23:01:13.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiJLKRuHI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6j7qzXI8lAU/s1600-h/a4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiJLKRuHI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6j7qzXI8lAU/s400/a4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335184618328012914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiI_PATpI/AAAAAAAAAOo/3Xb5ZE2aSKA/s1600-h/a3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiI_PATpI/AAAAAAAAAOo/3Xb5ZE2aSKA/s400/a3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335184615126617746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiI3-ExJI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2syKRIyYbZw/s1600-h/a2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiI3-ExJI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2syKRIyYbZw/s400/a2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335184613176558738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiInbvISI/AAAAAAAAAOY/f61UEoE-2bw/s1600-h/a1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiInbvISI/AAAAAAAAAOY/f61UEoE-2bw/s400/a1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335184608737567010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.6em; "&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; "&gt;Nobody&lt;/span&gt; is bored when he is trying to make something that is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt; or to discover something that is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;true&lt;/span&gt;." - William Inge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:23px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-footer" style="margin-top: 0.75em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; font: normal normal normal 77%/normal 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 1.4em; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5375435489596473383?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5375435489596473383/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5375435489596473383' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5375435489596473383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5375435489596473383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/nobody-is-bored-when-he-is-trying-to.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpiJLKRuHI/AAAAAAAAAOw/6j7qzXI8lAU/s72-c/a4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-53173311845608640</id><published>2009-05-12T22:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:59:14.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgphrSYUqnI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/smls67KBCfo/s1600-h/yuk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgphrSYUqnI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/smls67KBCfo/s400/yuk.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335184104869898866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  line-height: 20px; font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;"I was a cripple that had to use a cane.&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't stand or walk more than a few feet at a time.&lt;br /&gt;I had surgery 4 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;  font-size:180%;"&gt;Everything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt; is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:100%;"&gt;I can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:100%;"&gt;stand&lt;/span&gt; for hours and walk a mile a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:100%;"&gt;I can go walking with my wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;I can &lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;dance&lt;/span&gt; in the rain&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I can mow the yard. I can stand and do dishes.&lt;br /&gt;I can wash my car.&lt;br /&gt;I can get things off the top shelf.&lt;br /&gt;I can &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;hug&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;wife&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I can clean house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;I can&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;look people in the eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; "&gt;I can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; jump&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt; &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;for no reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-53173311845608640?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/53173311845608640/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=53173311845608640' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/53173311845608640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/53173311845608640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-was-cripple-that-had-to-use-cane.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgphrSYUqnI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/smls67KBCfo/s72-c/yuk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8782846373924580249</id><published>2009-05-12T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:57:18.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  line-height: 20px; font-size:13px;"&gt;These prints by &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5633825" style="color: rgb(170, 155, 85); text-decoration: none; "&gt;the poppy tree&lt;/a&gt; are so precious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 48px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpg2R9RyWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8383rz_OYwk/s1600-h/fg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpg2R9RyWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8383rz_OYwk/s400/fg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335183194223397218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpg2cRdspI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yd_B67Asc0U/s1600-h/fff.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 316px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpg2cRdspI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yd_B67Asc0U/s400/fff.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335183196992418450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-8782846373924580249?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8782846373924580249/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8782846373924580249' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8782846373924580249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8782846373924580249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-prints-by-poppy-tree-are-so.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgpg2R9RyWI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8383rz_OYwk/s72-c/fg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7577462555585563930</id><published>2009-05-12T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:53:42.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bit of wisdom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUqA7dHI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kBSUcFktWaE/s1600-h/fghfd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUqA7dHI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kBSUcFktWaE/s400/fghfd.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335182616565609586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUqvnS8I/AAAAAAAAANw/JG6ewyhxAZw/s1600-h/fghfg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUqvnS8I/AAAAAAAAANw/JG6ewyhxAZw/s400/fghfg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335182616761420738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUWNUq1I/AAAAAAAAANo/sR4puQR1It8/s1600-h/hdfh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUWNUq1I/AAAAAAAAANo/sR4puQR1It8/s400/hdfh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335182611248884562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUZ2wqhI/AAAAAAAAANg/R8Qjl4gwczI/s1600-h/hgdrh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 344px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUZ2wqhI/AAAAAAAAANg/R8Qjl4gwczI/s400/hgdrh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335182612227992082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);  line-height: 20px; font-size:13px;"&gt;“Sometimes, there are things in our life that &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;aren’t meant to stay&lt;/span&gt;. Sometimes, change may &lt;span style="font-style: italic;  font-size:130%;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;what we &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Sometimes, change is exactly what we &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And sometimes, saying &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;goodbye&lt;/span&gt; is the hardest thing you &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;think&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; you’ll ever have to do, but sometimes, &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-size:100%;"&gt;saying&lt;/span&gt; hello&lt;/span&gt; again is the thing that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;  font-size:130%;"&gt;breaks you&lt;/span&gt; down and makes you more &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;vulnerable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; than you ever thought possible. Sometimes, change is &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;too much to bear&lt;/span&gt;, but most of the time, &lt;span style=" ;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; "&gt;change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is the only thing &lt;span style=" ;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; "&gt;saving your life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Author unknown}&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7577462555585563930?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7577462555585563930/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7577462555585563930' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7577462555585563930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7577462555585563930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/bit-of-wisdom.html' title='bit of wisdom'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpgUqA7dHI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kBSUcFktWaE/s72-c/fghfd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4859600003883269792</id><published>2009-05-12T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:26:03.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>te amo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAVtrf45I/AAAAAAAAALM/-P9vVCjuWYg/s1600-h/DSCN1810.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAVtrf45I/AAAAAAAAALM/-P9vVCjuWYg/s400/DSCN1810.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335147450357244818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAVS_SJCI/AAAAAAAAALE/Wy7CcAG-jzQ/s1600-h/DSCN1829.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAVS_SJCI/AAAAAAAAALE/Wy7CcAG-jzQ/s400/DSCN1829.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335147443192472610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAUp7fVqI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YbVLq3K3Z7Y/s1600-h/DSCN1804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAUp7fVqI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YbVLq3K3Z7Y/s400/DSCN1804.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335147432170706594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgo6Mt_E-qI/AAAAAAAAAKk/-HK7aKlLHuU/s1600-h/DSCN1807.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgo6MSRmImI/AAAAAAAAAKc/CMHgCThmiaQ/s1600-h/DSCN1804.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgo6LxeYyZI/AAAAAAAAAKU/G7wPLWRUULU/s1600-h/DSCN1829.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sgo6LjOVDsI/AAAAAAAAAKM/AZCYQXvmfy0/s1600-h/DSCN1828.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4859600003883269792?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4859600003883269792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4859600003883269792' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4859600003883269792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4859600003883269792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/te-amo.html' title='te amo'/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgpAVtrf45I/AAAAAAAAALM/-P9vVCjuWYg/s72-c/DSCN1810.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-683549259697522906</id><published>2009-05-10T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T00:51:31.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgaG-xBt4aI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zGo4_dIyVGA/s1600-h/IMG_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgaG-xBt4aI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zGo4_dIyVGA/s400/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334099221537481122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;La amistad surge de una necesidad social humana. El hombre animalito necesita estar con pares. Es un ser social ya que su supervivencia lo exige. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Para pertener a una sociedad el hombre tiene que dejar parte de su individualidad. La naturaleza en su perfeccion le brinda la capacidad de sentir cariño por otro para poder lograr exitosamente el grupo social. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;El amor es lo contrario a egoismo individual. Uno piensa en el bienestar del otro antes del de uno. El amor de los padres al hijo puede ser el mas fuerte pero hay otros amores bastante fuertes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Para mantener la cohesión entre el grupo el sentimiento tiene que estar. Sino solo lo une el miedo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Es indispensable en la condicion de amistad que exista el amor. No es el amor sexual, es el amor platonico. No tiene la fuerza del amor hacia un hijo, pero si la fuerza suficiente para extrañar esa persona y desearle desinteresadamente lo mejor aun a costa de nuestras inseguridad, madre de nuestros celos y envidias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;La amistad tiene un beneficio individual. En un grupo de amigos nos acercamos a la libertad. El hombre necesita armar mascaras aceptando normas sociales antes el costo social de no hacerlo. Ante el miedo de quedarnos solos, ante la necesidad de atraer gente armamos personajes de cómo quieren los otros que seamos. Y dada nuestra inseguridad tenemos miedo de mostrarnos tal cual somos. Y el exceso de este mecanismo aliena al hombre que se pierde a si mismo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;NO hay mayor libertad que poder mostrarse como uno es y seguir siendo aceptado. El estar en amigos en definitiva es mostrarnos lo mas autentico a lo que podemos llegar sin el temor inconsciente y continuo de quedarnos solos. Saber que el otro esta. No darlo como un hecho, cuidarlo, pero el sentimiento hace que nos aceptemos con nuestras falencias. Alimentar la seguridad con el conocimiento de que tu amigo te quiere por lo que sos y no por lo que aparentas es necesario. Es la relajacion, la comodidad, la distencion, la seguridad, la libertad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Solo la pareja y la amistad nos produce esto. Son relaciones fundamentales para la psiquis del humano con sus pares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Sobre la pareja la amistad tiene ciertas ventajas. Es mas relajada. No estan las exigencias que hay en la pareja. Dada una menor intimidad tiene a veces una mayor libertad. Las relaciones de pareja se asemeja mas a una lucha de poderes con negociación incluida. La amistad se asemeja mas a la democracia. Hay que reconocerle a la pareja que trata temas de estado mas complejos que requieren otro tratamiento pero en definitiva la amistad es casi siempre bella y feliz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Pocas cosas hay realmente importantes en este mundo como la amistad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-683549259697522906?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/683549259697522906/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=683549259697522906' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/683549259697522906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/683549259697522906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-amistad-surge-de-una-necesidad.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgaG-xBt4aI/AAAAAAAAAKE/zGo4_dIyVGA/s72-c/IMG_0036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8968814934414229733</id><published>2009-05-10T00:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:26:48.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ-LE9eC0I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/8WxW-BlukDc/s1600-h/100_8058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ-LE9eC0I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/8WxW-BlukDc/s400/100_8058.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334089537442155330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Después de algún tiempo aprenderás la diferencia entre dar la mano y socorrer a un alma... Y aprenderás que amar no significa apoyarse, y que compañía no siempre significa seguridad... Comenzaras a aprender que los besos no son contratos, ni regalos, ni promesas... Comenzarás a aceptar tus derrotas con la cabeza erguida y la mirada al frente, con la gracia de un adulto y no con la tristeza de un niño... Y aprenderás a construir hoy todos tus caminos, porque el terreno de mañana es incierto para los proyectos y el futuro tiene la costumbre de caer en el vacío. Después de un tiempo aprenderás que el sol quema sí te expones demasiado... Aceptarás que incluso las personas buenas podrían herirte alguna vez y necesitarás perdonarlas... Aprenderás que hablar puede aliviar los dolores del alma... Descubrirás que lleva años construir confianza y apenas unos segundos destruirla, y que tu también podrás hacer cosas de las que te arrepentirás el resto de la vida... Aprenderás que las verdaderas amistades continúan creciendo a pesar de las distancias... Y que no importa que es lo que tienes, sino a quien tienes en la vida... Y que los buenos amigos son la familia que nos permitimos elegir... Aprenderás que no tenemos que cambiar de amigos, sí estamos dispuestos a aceptar que los amigos cambian... Te darás cuenta que puedes pasar buenos momentos con tu mejor amigo haciendo cualquier cosa o nada, solo por el placer de disfrutar su compañía... Descubrirás que muchas veces tomas a la ligera a las personas que más te importan y por eso siempre debemos decir a esas personas que las amamos, porque nunca estaremos seguros de cuando será la ultima vez que las veamos... Aprenderás que las circunstancias y el ambiente que nos rodea tienen influencia sobre nosotros, pero nosotros somos los únicos responsables de lo que hacemos... Comenzarás a aprender que no nos debemos comparar con los demás, salvo cuando queramos imitarlos para mejorar... Descubrirás que se lleva mucho tiempo para llegar a ser la persona que quieres ser, y que el tiempo es corto. Aprenderás que no importa a donde llegaste, sino a donde te diriges y si no lo sabes cualquier lugar sirve... Aprenderás que si no controlas tus actos, ellos te controlaran y que ser flexible no significa ser débil o no tener personalidad, porque no importa cuan delicada y frágil sea una situación: siempre existen dos lados. Aprenderás que héroes son las personas que hicieron lo que era necesario, enfrentando las consecuencias... Aprenderás que la paciencia requiere mucha práctica. Descubrirás que algunas veces, la persona que esperas que te patee cuando te caes, tal vez sea una de las pocas que te ayuden a levantarte. Madurar tiene mas que ver con lo que has aprendido de las experiencias, que con los años vividos. Aprenderás que hay mucho mas de tus padres en ti de lo que supones. Aprenderás que nunca se debe decir a un niño que sus sueños son tonterías, porque pocas cosas son tan humillantes y sería una tragedia si lo creyese porque le estarás quitando la esperanza... Aprenderás que cuando sientes rabia, tienes derecho a tenerla, pero eso no te da el derecho de ser cruel... Descubrirás que solo porque alguien no te ama de la forma que quieres, no significa que no te ame con todo lo que puede, porque hay personas que nos aman, pero que no saben como demostrarlo... No siempre es suficiente ser perdonado por alguien, algunas veces tendrás que aprender a perdonarte a ti mismo... Aprenderás que con la misma severidad conque juzgas, también serás juzgado y en algún momento condenado... Aprenderás que no importa en cuantos pedazos tu corazón se partió, el mundo no se detiene para que lo arregles... Aprenderás que el tiempo no es algo que pueda volver hacia atrás, por lo tanto, debes cultivar tu propio jardín y decorar tu alma, en vez de esperar que alguien te traiga flores. Entonces y solo entonces sabrás realmente lo que puedes soportar; que eres fuerte y que podrás ir mucho mas lejos de lo que pensabas cuando creías que no se podía más. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 15px; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Es que realmente la vida vale cuando tienes el valor de ¡enfrentarla!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-8968814934414229733?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8968814934414229733/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8968814934414229733' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8968814934414229733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8968814934414229733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/despues-de-algun-tiempo-aprenderas-la_10.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ-LE9eC0I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/8WxW-BlukDc/s72-c/100_8058.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3594205048082110154</id><published>2009-05-09T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T23:44:39.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ3qLgVNGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/jxucuJtQ_QE/s1600-h/lala.jpg"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ3qLgVNGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/jxucuJtQ_QE/s400/lala.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334082375193539682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;¿Qué es el tiempo? Tal vez en la pregunta ya encierre el error de presuponer que existe. El tiempo se percibe en el deterioro de las cosas y los seres o en la evolución de los mismos, en su cambio. Pero nada más. Lo exento al deterioro y a la muerte no necesita de tiempo ni de máquinas para medirlo; por eso nuestra naturaleza (nuestra biología), nuestra conciencia de que algún día dejaremos de existir nos hizo en algún momento querer medir el tiempo para saber en qué punto de nuestro desgaste nos encontramos. Los relojes no miden el tiempo, sino nuestra existencia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3594205048082110154?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3594205048082110154/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3594205048082110154' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3594205048082110154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3594205048082110154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/que-es-el-tiempo-tal-vez-en-la-pregunta.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ3qLgVNGI/AAAAAAAAAJE/jxucuJtQ_QE/s72-c/lala.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6832589792343941346</id><published>2009-05-09T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T23:35:20.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ1asS_JFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/jvupViF8stU/s1600-h/gatito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ1asS_JFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/jvupViF8stU/s400/gatito.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334079910094775378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Felis silvestris catus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6832589792343941346?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6832589792343941346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6832589792343941346' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6832589792343941346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6832589792343941346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/felis-silvestris-catus.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZ1asS_JFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/jvupViF8stU/s72-c/gatito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6628013254299444052</id><published>2009-05-09T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T22:27:11.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;Y si no llego no importa. Después de todo no se ni por que partí. Después de todo aunque la solución no sea evidente prefiero buscarla a quedarme donde estoy, no es que sea un lugar inhóspito, estoy contento con la gente que me encontré aquí, uno diría que es un lugar bastante tranquilo y que seria equivoco dejarlo. Pero eso seria cómodo, seria cómodo conformarse y no buscar algo mejor, seria cómodo rendirse ante las &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;nobr id="epl_kw_677a9e5f4fcb5491_1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;facilidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt; impuestas por los que me rodean y quedarme aquí, tranquilo sin hacer nada que modifique el pensar o la forma de ver ,sentir y expresar las cosas que tiene este lugar. Pero bueno siempre fui así, siempre quise saber que había en la otra colina, tan pacifica como se ve, calculo que debe ser mas fría, y quizás no tan alta como esta. Pero parece, no se es raro, parece como si quisiera que la viera, es muy relajante hacerlo por cierto. Me pregunto si vivirá alguien allí, será feliz, tendrá familia, hijos nietos, quizás un &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;nobr id="epl_kw_677a9e5f4fcb5491_2" onmouseover="eplDoc.epl.highlight_show(this,'677a9e5f4fcb5491','perro','4593da5d7a80bbdf');" onmouseout="eplDoc.epl.highlight_hideev('4593da5d7a80bbdf');"&gt;&lt;a onclick="window.open('http://ads.us.e-planning.net/ei/3/2be0/677a9e5f4fcb5491?rnd=0.568729649297893&amp;amp;pb=4593da5d7a80bbdf&amp;amp;fi=65110e8d6f987cc7&amp;amp;kw=perro', '_blank'); return false;" href="http://ads.us.e-planning.net/ei/3/2be0/677a9e5f4fcb5491?rnd=0.568729649297893&amp;amp;pb=4593da5d7a80bbdf&amp;amp;fi=65110e8d6f987cc7&amp;amp;kw=perro" style="border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(250, 124, 0); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;perro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;, quizás no tenga nada, quizás no exista. Quizás tenga miedo de existir y exponerse a tantas dudas, problema, angustia. O quizás no, quizás disfrute buscándole las soluciones a sus problemas, quizás ya haya aprendido a dejar salir la angustia y las dudas quizás, las dudas quizás le enseñes que nada es seguro y que todo lo que se sabe puede ser mentira ya que nadie tiene la seguridad de que el exista. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZuqBsYMzI/AAAAAAAAAI0/T4jwpkCPv1k/s1600-h/tfhj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZuqBsYMzI/AAAAAAAAAI0/T4jwpkCPv1k/s400/tfhj.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334072476955063090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6628013254299444052?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6628013254299444052/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6628013254299444052' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6628013254299444052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6628013254299444052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_09.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgZuqBsYMzI/AAAAAAAAAI0/T4jwpkCPv1k/s72-c/tfhj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-575979398749093257</id><published>2009-05-07T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T21:11:59.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_vetzoI/AAAAAAAAAIs/lZnQEgAJdjA/s1600-h/2643_1096738893506_1077618402_310153_3585923_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333300992860343938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_vetzoI/AAAAAAAAAIs/lZnQEgAJdjA/s400/2643_1096738893506_1077618402_310153_3585923_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_oYWELI/AAAAAAAAAIk/vL0AY0YxOGA/s1600-h/2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333300990954574002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_oYWELI/AAAAAAAAAIk/vL0AY0YxOGA/s400/2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_WqJpDI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fu_GPnumRzw/s1600-h/1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333300986197419058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 261px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_WqJpDI/AAAAAAAAAIc/fu_GPnumRzw/s400/1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ffffff;"&gt;La oliste, la besaste, aspiraste su esencia, pasaste el trago de su amargura, pero te enfermó. No aprehendiste lo más importante, recordás que creciste, todavía sentís su calor, su humedád, su toxicidad, pero no aprehendiste lo más importante. Aprender..., a que vivir, es morir... no sos la excepción.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&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/8272702386755852792-575979398749093257?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/575979398749093257/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=575979398749093257' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/575979398749093257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/575979398749093257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-oliste-la-besaste-aspiraste-su.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgOw_vetzoI/AAAAAAAAAIs/lZnQEgAJdjA/s72-c/2643_1096738893506_1077618402_310153_3585923_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7031339768038583905</id><published>2009-05-06T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:33:42.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJiswP1aKI/AAAAAAAAAII/8nBbqCWe9-o/s1600-h/ryhrth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJiswP1aKI/AAAAAAAAAII/8nBbqCWe9-o/s400/ryhrth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332933429765171362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJist_RFDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/3-tTyfKq5yk/s1600-h/rhrtr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJist_RFDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/3-tTyfKq5yk/s400/rhrtr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332933429158810674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7031339768038583905?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7031339768038583905/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7031339768038583905' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7031339768038583905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7031339768038583905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_7834.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJiswP1aKI/AAAAAAAAAII/8nBbqCWe9-o/s72-c/ryhrth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8951141034475956879</id><published>2009-05-06T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:19:56.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="autopagerize_page_element" id="posts"&gt;&lt;div class="regular"&gt; &lt;h3 style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;salvation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;surrounded by inevitable darkness, followed by a constant  cloud of gloom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;the despair it attempts to inject into my heart fails to be  absorbed into my soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;instead it brightens the smallest of pleasures  available to my grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;it is here that i find salvation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- end posts --&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJhEK36n-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/8_gxDuH3GHE/s1600-h/tfrgdr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJhEK36n-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/8_gxDuH3GHE/s400/tfrgdr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332931633026342882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-8951141034475956879?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8951141034475956879/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8951141034475956879' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8951141034475956879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8951141034475956879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/salvation-surrounded-by-inevitable.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJhEK36n-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/8_gxDuH3GHE/s72-c/tfrgdr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-530743616472055652</id><published>2009-05-06T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:12:36.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oJYKFae7VEo&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oJYKFae7VEo&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry,  You don’t know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, Tell you I set you apart. Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions, Oh, lets go back to  the start. Running in circles, coming in tales, Heads are a science  apart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Nobody said it was easy, It's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, No-one ever said it would be this hard, Oh  take me back to the start.&lt;br /&gt;I was just guessing at numbers and figures, Pulling your puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress, Do not speak as loud as my heart.&lt;br /&gt;And tell me you love me, come back  and haunt me, Oh and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing  tails, And coming back as we are.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said it was easy, oh  its such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, No-one ever  said it would be so hard. Im going back to the start. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-530743616472055652?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/530743616472055652/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=530743616472055652' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/530743616472055652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/530743616472055652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/come-up-to-meet-you-tell-you-im-sorry.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8856391004417219307</id><published>2009-05-06T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:07:25.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJciftfrNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ygIZzB6iqYs/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJciftfrNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ygIZzB6iqYs/s400/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332926656457714898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="source"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- edward abbey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="source"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt; stefania &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;hebe cáceres&lt;/span&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-8856391004417219307?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8856391004417219307/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8856391004417219307' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8856391004417219307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8856391004417219307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/sentiment-without-action-is-ruin-of.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJciftfrNI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ygIZzB6iqYs/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-2008726871289169382</id><published>2009-05-06T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T20:55:30.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbpJQ7cfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wQOBTq1Hp9E/s1600-h/hhhhhhhhhh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbpJQ7cfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wQOBTq1Hp9E/s400/hhhhhhhhhh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925671179776498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbpAD-1qI/AAAAAAAAAHg/e1HofDAl4KI/s1600-h/hhhd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbpAD-1qI/AAAAAAAAAHg/e1HofDAl4KI/s400/hhhd.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925668709553826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbg1-CdnI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UA3So1dq8II/s1600-h/fgjhdf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbg1-CdnI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UA3So1dq8II/s400/fgjhdf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925528561317490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbg45veZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/g5YUzhI52UY/s1600-h/fdhfh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbg45veZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/g5YUzhI52UY/s400/fdhfh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925529348602258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgjcpRBI/AAAAAAAAAHI/o1f2s3UgNNk/s1600-h/fdhfgh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgjcpRBI/AAAAAAAAAHI/o1f2s3UgNNk/s400/fdhfgh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925523589415954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgqh9VaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/tBtyaR8Q_EM/s1600-h/dhgh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgqh9VaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/tBtyaR8Q_EM/s400/dhgh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925525490750882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgSZhouI/AAAAAAAAAG4/2B_17N_HTWo/s1600-h/dfhg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbgSZhouI/AAAAAAAAAG4/2B_17N_HTWo/s400/dfhg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332925519012930274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-2008726871289169382?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/2008726871289169382/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=2008726871289169382' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2008726871289169382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/2008726871289169382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_9647.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJbpJQ7cfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wQOBTq1Hp9E/s72-c/hhhhhhhhhh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6852664042570518392</id><published>2009-05-06T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T20:46:06.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJZXeZG44I/AAAAAAAAAGw/sDxkFPiAlBo/s1600-h/afsfsadf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJZXeZG44I/AAAAAAAAAGw/sDxkFPiAlBo/s400/afsfsadf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332923168590324610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;lucy in the sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-6852664042570518392?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6852664042570518392/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6852664042570518392' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6852664042570518392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6852664042570518392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/lucy-in-sky.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJZXeZG44I/AAAAAAAAAGw/sDxkFPiAlBo/s72-c/afsfsadf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-8662270941382737526</id><published>2009-05-06T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T14:30:42.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(153,153,153)"&gt;Smoke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU4E4KYiI/AAAAAAAAAGo/QAVNjA9CHtM/s1600-h/ghjfgh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332918231118799394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU4E4KYiI/AAAAAAAAAGo/QAVNjA9CHtM/s400/ghjfgh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3076LLI/AAAAAAAAAGg/tO-rYXD1pUc/s1600-h/gfjhfgj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332918226839547058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 367px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3076LLI/AAAAAAAAAGg/tO-rYXD1pUc/s400/gfjhfgj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3nUVgCI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cUf2oQn3Ko4/s1600-h/gfjggh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332918223183904802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3nUVgCI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cUf2oQn3Ko4/s400/gfjggh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3cRKZ6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/pzd7D5Df2CI/s1600-h/gfj.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU3GaWKuI/AAAAAAAAAGI/bbat15ViPio/s1600-h/fhdfg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT8JUJd6I/AAAAAAAAAGA/4BqsZPSqRJE/s1600-h/fhdfh.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332917201517770658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT8JUJd6I/AAAAAAAAAGA/4BqsZPSqRJE/s400/fhdfh.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT787PIFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/HpoKvm4PT64/s1600-h/fhdfg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332917198192058450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT787PIFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/HpoKvm4PT64/s400/fhdfg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7sN--3I/AAAAAAAAAFw/lfLZW-hJTlo/s1600-h/fgj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332917193707289458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7sN--3I/AAAAAAAAAFw/lfLZW-hJTlo/s400/fgj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7jgHFiI/AAAAAAAAAFo/RYHAz1imQ24/s1600-h/fgdhfghfd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332917191367398946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7jgHFiI/AAAAAAAAAFo/RYHAz1imQ24/s400/fgdhfghfd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7aH7yVI/AAAAAAAAAFg/MYRuxUe6hBM/s1600-h/djfdfhh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332917188850075986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJT7aH7yVI/AAAAAAAAAFg/MYRuxUe6hBM/s400/djfdfhh.jpg" 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/8272702386755852792-8662270941382737526?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/8662270941382737526/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=8662270941382737526' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8662270941382737526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/8662270941382737526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/smoke.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJU4E4KYiI/AAAAAAAAAGo/QAVNjA9CHtM/s72-c/ghjfgh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-1954212425498518118</id><published>2009-05-06T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T20:09:06.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJQE2XpkpI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VeqPqjpYaQ4/s1600-h/ajajaja.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 382px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJQE2XpkpI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VeqPqjpYaQ4/s400/ajajaja.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332912953004495506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-1954212425498518118?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/1954212425498518118/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=1954212425498518118' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1954212425498518118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/1954212425498518118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_06.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SgJQE2XpkpI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VeqPqjpYaQ4/s72-c/ajajaja.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-704659780573778021</id><published>2009-05-05T01:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:37:57.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63w_sFJI/AAAAAAAAAFI/rVrI5aIVzIU/s1600-h/S+V+10.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332256319781737618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63w_sFJI/AAAAAAAAAFI/rVrI5aIVzIU/s400/S+V+10.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63kDTnBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/wpS3_FiNNcE/s1600-h/rtyhtyu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332256316307250194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63kDTnBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/wpS3_FiNNcE/s400/rtyhtyu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63WvvzUI/AAAAAAAAAE4/TmRYUQ8JwQg/s1600-h/sv7.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332256312735550786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63WvvzUI/AAAAAAAAAE4/TmRYUQ8JwQg/s400/sv7.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_62zQgUvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/hxciMWzWHCQ/s1600-h/100_4387.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332256303209272050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_62zQgUvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/hxciMWzWHCQ/s400/100_4387.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#999999;"&gt;Abro y cierro los ojos, veo que nada esta bien, todo se derrumba. Ellos lo sabían, lo advirtieron y no hice caso. Cualquiera que hubiera dicho que esto acabaría tan fácil como llego, no le hubiera creído y lo hubiera golpeado, porque sabía que todos ellos estaban equivocados. Pero en ciertas ocasiones las cosas no salen como uno las planeaba y te encuentras cayendo de donde creías haber estado, muy alto. Allá arriba, en el momento perfecto. Esto no fue como lo imagine, como pensé que seriamos. Siempre supe que lo que yo sentía iba más allá de sus expectativas, pero nunca imagine necesitarlo cuando lloro. Porque nadie sabe, nadie conoce el ritmo de mi corazón, creo que nadie excepto yo. Entonces hago una promesa, un juramento, un pacto y guardo todo lo que tenia para darte, si me lo hubieras permitido.Se supone que los pactos se cumplen, por sobre todas las cosas. Pero quien dijo eso?, es como creer que un chupetín no tiene fecha de vencimiento, si la tiene y al cabo de un tiempo su gusto es amargo. Así que, adelante, piensa en lo que sea que necesites pensar, ve y sueña con lo que quieras soñar y sigue actuando así, como si simplemente no te importara. Dejo atrás la figura de niña problemática y conflictiva para entrar en un mismo cuerpo, pero hoy, con mas experiencia. Algo de mi queda atrás, algo me deja sola, otra vez. Ese algo me abandonaba hoy en el medio de la nada. Mi guía se ha perdido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/8272702386755852792-704659780573778021?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/704659780573778021/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=704659780573778021' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/704659780573778021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/704659780573778021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/abro-y-cierro-los-ojos-veo-que-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_63w_sFJI/AAAAAAAAAFI/rVrI5aIVzIU/s72-c/S+V+10.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-5757849527247250228</id><published>2009-05-05T01:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:30:44.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_4hucbAyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qVXGtUd6x0E/s1600-h/fghfdhf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332253742116569890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 389px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_4hucbAyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qVXGtUd6x0E/s400/fghfdhf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#999999;"&gt;these are my wordsthat i've never said beforei think i'm doing okayand this is the smile that i've never shown before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-5757849527247250228?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/5757849527247250228/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=5757849527247250228' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5757849527247250228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/5757849527247250228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/these-are-my-wordsthat-ive-never-said.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_4hucbAyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qVXGtUd6x0E/s72-c/fghfdhf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-233206410646686610</id><published>2009-05-05T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:17:52.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#999999;"&gt;Después de algún tiempo aprenderás la diferencia entre dar la mano y socorrer a un alma... Y aprenderás que amar no significa apoyarse, y que compañía no siempre significa seguridad... Comenzaras a aprender que los besos no son contratos, ni regalos, ni promesas... Comenzarás a aceptar tus derrotas con la cabeza erguida y la mirada al frente, con la gracia de un adulto y no con la tristeza de un niño... Y aprenderás a construir hoy todos tus caminos, porque el terreno de mañana es incierto para los proyectos y el futuro tiene la costumbre de caer en el vacío. Después de un tiempo aprenderás que el sol quema sí te expones demasiado... Aceptarás que incluso las personas buenas podrían herirte alguna vez y necesitarás perdonarlas... Aprenderás que hablar puede aliviar los dolores del alma... Descubrirás que lleva años construir confianza y apenas unos segundos destruirla, y que tu también podrás hacer cosas de las que te arrepentirás el resto de la vida... Aprenderás que las verdaderas amistades continúan creciendo a pesar de las distancias... Y que no importa que es lo que tienes, sino a quien tienes en la vida... Y que los buenos amigos son la familia que nos permitimos elegir... Aprenderás que no tenemos que cambiar de amigos, sí estamos dispuestos a aceptar que los amigos cambian... Te darás cuenta que puedes pasar buenos momentos con tu mejor amigo haciendo cualquier cosa o nada, solo por el placer de disfrutar su compañía... Descubrirás que muchas veces tomas a la ligera a las personas que más te importan y por eso siempre debemos decir a esas personas que las amamos, porque nunca estaremos seguros de cuando será la ultima vez que las veamos... Aprenderás que las circunstancias y el ambiente que nos rodea tienen influencia sobre nosotros, pero nosotros somos los únicos responsables de lo que hacemos... Comenzarás a aprender que no nos debemos comparar con los demás, salvo cuando queramos imitarlos para mejorar... Descubrirás que se lleva mucho tiempo para llegar a ser la persona que quieres ser, y que el tiempo es corto. Aprenderás que no importa a donde llegaste, sino a donde te diriges y si no lo sabes cualquier lugar sirve... Aprenderás que si no controlas tus actos, ellos te controlaran y que ser flexible no significa ser débil o no tener personalidad, porque no importa cuan delicada y frágil sea una situación: siempre existen dos lados. Aprenderás que héroes son las personas que hicieron lo que era necesario, enfrentando las consecuencias... Aprenderás que la paciencia requiere mucha práctica. Descubrirás que algunas veces, la persona que esperas que te patee cuando te caes, tal vez sea una de las pocas que te ayuden a levantarte. Madurar tiene mas que ver con lo que has aprendido de las experiencias, que con los años vividos. Aprenderás que hay mucho mas de tus padres en ti de lo que supones. Aprenderás que nunca se debe decir a un niño que sus sueños son tonterías, porque pocas cosas son tan humillantes y sería una tragedia si lo creyese porque le estarás quitando la esperanza... Aprenderás que cuando sientes rabia, tienes derecho a tenerla, pero eso no te da el derecho de ser cruel... Descubrirás que solo porque alguien no te ama de la forma que quieres, no significa que no te ame con todo lo que puede, porque hay personas que nos aman, pero que no saben como demostrarlo... No siempre es suficiente ser perdonado por alguien, algunas veces tendrás que aprender a perdonarte a ti mismo... Aprenderás que con la misma severidad conque juzgas, también serás juzgado y en algún momento condenado... Aprenderás que no importa en cuantos pedazos tu corazón se partió, el mundo no se detiene para que lo arregles... Aprenderás que el tiempo no es algo que pueda volver hacia atrás, por lo tanto, debes cultivar tu propio jardín y decorar tu alma, en vez de esperar que alguien te traiga flores. Entonces y solo entonces sabrás realmente lo que puedes soportar; que eres fuerte y que podrás ir mucho mas lejos de lo que pensabas cuando creías que no se podía más. Es que realmente la vida vale cuando tienes el valor de ¡enfrentarla!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-233206410646686610?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/233206410646686610/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=233206410646686610' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/233206410646686610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/233206410646686610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/despues-de-algun-tiempo-aprenderas-la.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-6638991672551143812</id><published>2009-05-05T01:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:18:57.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14px"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prison gates won't open up for me&lt;br /&gt;On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I reach for you&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm terrified of these four walls&lt;br /&gt;These iron bars can't hold my soul in&lt;br /&gt;All I need is you&lt;br /&gt;Come please I'm callin'&lt;br /&gt;And oh I scream for you&lt;br /&gt;Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Show me what it's like&lt;br /&gt;To be the last one standing&lt;br /&gt;And teach me wrong from right&lt;br /&gt;And I'll show you what I can be&lt;br /&gt;Say it for me&lt;br /&gt;Say it to me&lt;br /&gt;And I'll leave this life behind me&lt;br /&gt;Say it if it's worth saving me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven's gates won't open up for me&lt;br /&gt;With these broken wings I'm fallin'&lt;br /&gt;And all I see is you&lt;br /&gt;These city walls ain't got no love for me&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story&lt;br /&gt;And oh I scream for you&lt;br /&gt;Come please I'm callin'&lt;br /&gt;And all I need from you&lt;br /&gt;Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurry I'm fallin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I need is you&lt;br /&gt;Come please I'm callin'&lt;br /&gt;And oh, I scream for you&lt;br /&gt;Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurry I'm fallin'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14px;font-size:11;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: 14px;font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal;font-size:10;" &gt;&lt;object height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8UFR3ww00zM&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8UFR3ww00zM&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&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/8272702386755852792-6638991672551143812?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/6638991672551143812/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=6638991672551143812' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6638991672551143812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/6638991672551143812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/prison-gates-wont-open-up-for-me-on.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-3637926086745750991</id><published>2009-05-05T01:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T01:16:25.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/T4naLyv2-r4&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/T4naLyv2-r4&amp;amp;hl=es&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-3637926086745750991?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/3637926086745750991/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=3637926086745750991' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3637926086745750991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/3637926086745750991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post_05.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-991328265783802294</id><published>2009-05-05T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T00:50:45.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_vwUeJ9nI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZcliRXyvtug/s1600-h/ghdfgh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 190px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_vwUeJ9nI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZcliRXyvtug/s400/ghdfgh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332244097237907058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I need you, to need me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-991328265783802294?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/991328265783802294/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=991328265783802294' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/991328265783802294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/991328265783802294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-need-you-to-need-me.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_vwUeJ9nI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZcliRXyvtug/s72-c/ghdfgh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-4278486757714097503</id><published>2009-05-05T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T00:59:47.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_xwqjdEeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Mdcb1b_MSQ0/s1600-h/ddddddddddddddddddd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_xwqjdEeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Mdcb1b_MSQ0/s400/ddddddddddddddddddd.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332246302188966370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="quote"&gt;&lt;big&gt;“&lt;/big&gt; if we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a  love affair. we’d never have a friendship. we’d never go into business, because  we’d be too cynical. well, that’s nonsense. you’ve got to jump off cliffs all  the time and build your wings on the way down. &lt;big&gt;”&lt;/big&gt; &lt;span class="source"&gt;-  Annie Dillard&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="quote"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="quote"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-4278486757714097503?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/4278486757714097503/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=4278486757714097503' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4278486757714097503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/4278486757714097503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/if-we-listened-to-our-intellect-wed.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_xwqjdEeI/AAAAAAAAAEg/Mdcb1b_MSQ0/s72-c/ddddddddddddddddddd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7463436447028132323</id><published>2009-05-05T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T00:44:06.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_uP4IWEqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SIYAMZH99pQ/s1600-h/dfhfhf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_uP4IWEqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SIYAMZH99pQ/s400/dfhfhf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332242440362791586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sally man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7463436447028132323?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7463436447028132323/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7463436447028132323' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7463436447028132323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7463436447028132323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/sally-man.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_uP4IWEqI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SIYAMZH99pQ/s72-c/dfhfhf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8272702386755852792.post-7896450928883888571</id><published>2009-05-05T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T00:41:45.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="regular"&gt; &lt;h3&gt;i think,&lt;/h3&gt;i have decided that one of my most favourable feelings, is to  escape. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_tU_ruTFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/BA3n-BkwPyA/s1600-h/sdfgsdfg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_tU_ruTFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/BA3n-BkwPyA/s400/sdfgsdfg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332241428777946194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8272702386755852792-7896450928883888571?l=des-revues.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/feeds/7896450928883888571/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8272702386755852792&amp;postID=7896450928883888571' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7896450928883888571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8272702386755852792/posts/default/7896450928883888571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://des-revues.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-think-i-have-decided-that-one-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>elise laroche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08707143822840542984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/SpM9sl93OGI/AAAAAAAAAVo/hp1dd2kuaF4/S220/yjty.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hhmXxeaV5XY/Sf_tU_ruTFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/BA3n-BkwPyA/s72-c/sdfgsdfg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
