<?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-8103006</id><updated>2011-10-11T15:08:01.604+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouvir Sem Sentir</title><subtitle type='html'>Uma definição é a morte do que se define.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-907345303684098047</id><published>2011-05-07T23:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T00:27:33.107+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Verdade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nós não procuramos ser amados. Procuramos sim sentirmo-nos amados, e isso depende mais de mim do que de ti. Que me importa que me não ames se me sinto amado por ti? Não, não se trata de uma mentira. Trata-se da única possibilidade de o amor ser verdadeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-907345303684098047?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/907345303684098047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/907345303684098047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2011/05/verdade.html' title='Verdade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-3717622959139122002</id><published>2011-03-20T22:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-20T22:17:21.481Z</updated><title type='text'>Choro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu não queria ser indiferente, mas não sabia o que fazer. Pensei que conseguiria ser forte. Passei por ti, de peito inchado e sem te dirigir a palavra, enquanto tu olhavas para mim. Pensei que conseguiria ser forte. Mas alguns passos depois, já não sabia se as minhas pernas conseguiriam manter-me de pé. Os meus passos tornaram-se descoordenados, perdia o equilíbrio com facilidade. Não te enganes. Eu choro por mim. Choro por mim, porque te amo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-3717622959139122002?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/3717622959139122002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/3717622959139122002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2011/03/choro.html' title='Choro'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-2509581686728848813</id><published>2011-01-27T23:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-01-27T23:21:24.710Z</updated><title type='text'>Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span id="search" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;"I really do have love to give! I just don't know where to put it!", diz Donnie Smith do filme &lt;i&gt;Magnolia&lt;/i&gt;, de Paul Thomas Anderson. Não é que não reconheçamos que existem na nossa vida pessoas merecedoras desse nosso amor. Simplesmente não se trata de uma escolha feita de forma consciente, como se o depositássemos onde soubéssemos que era mais valorizado. Daí a sensação de desorientação. Amar, não depende apenas da capacidade para amar, mas da existência de alguém que possamos amar.&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/8103006-2509581686728848813?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/2509581686728848813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/2509581686728848813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2011/01/amor.html' title='Amor'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-448391217947620185</id><published>2011-01-17T22:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-01-17T22:27:17.032Z</updated><title type='text'>Ilusionismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:HyphenationZone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não. Não digas que sentes também a minha falta. É porque to peço que respeitas os meus sentimentos, e me não respondes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-448391217947620185?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/448391217947620185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/448391217947620185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2011/01/ilusionismo.html' title='Ilusionismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-3699471172128844342</id><published>2011-01-11T17:33:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-01-11T17:35:02.876Z</updated><title type='text'>Consequência</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Conhecer a causa não resolve a consequência. Porque é, então, tão importante percebermos para nos resignarmos?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-3699471172128844342?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/3699471172128844342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/3699471172128844342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2011/01/consequencia.html' title='Consequência'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-8948857028131534976</id><published>2010-12-17T20:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-17T20:03:26.686Z</updated><title type='text'>Lembrança</title><content type='html'>Alguém que me lembre como se esquece, por favor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-8948857028131534976?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8948857028131534976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8948857028131534976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/12/lembranca.html' title='Lembrança'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-8076700165893722150</id><published>2010-12-03T10:10:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-12-04T10:16:21.868Z</updated><title type='text'>Fantasma</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Um fantasma apaixonou-se por mim. Não o aceitei. O fantasma então materializou-se, e eu apaixonei-me por ele. Mas éramos os dois, talvez, demasiado reais. Os fantasmas devem ter medo da realidade. E então ele fugiu. Talvez em busca de algo que não fosse concreto. Os fantasmas, presumo, não foram feitos para as relações.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-8076700165893722150?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8076700165893722150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8076700165893722150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/12/fantasma.html' title='Fantasma'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-8208997576423217338</id><published>2010-11-23T18:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-11-23T18:54:27.215Z</updated><title type='text'>Cogito</title><content type='html'>Se penso, é porque sinto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-8208997576423217338?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8208997576423217338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8208997576423217338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/11/cogito.html' title='Cogito'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-7480283244388648645</id><published>2010-11-12T10:39:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-11-12T10:42:36.827Z</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sinto saudades tuas. E nada me ocorre que seja mais egoísta para te dizer. A saudade não é empática. É autocomiserativa. Na saudade, não é contigo que me preocupo, mas comigo. Com o vazio que a tua ausência me provoca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-7480283244388648645?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/7480283244388648645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/7480283244388648645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/11/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-1252043485490756590</id><published>2010-11-03T09:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-11-03T09:30:01.556Z</updated><title type='text'>Albireo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tu e eu. Como Albireo. Uma só estrela, se observada à vista desarmada. Mas, na verdade, duas estrelas. Diferentes. Contrastantes. Orbitando em torno uma da outra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-1252043485490756590?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/1252043485490756590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/1252043485490756590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/11/albireo.html' title='Albireo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-5377444617030388021</id><published>2010-11-02T09:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-02T09:43:24.950Z</updated><title type='text'>Realizar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tornar real. O homem só se sente realizado quando realiza. E há tanto que se pode realizar. Até uma ideia, mesmo que sem qualquer aplicação prática, é já uma realização.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-5377444617030388021?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/5377444617030388021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/5377444617030388021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/11/realizar.html' title='Realizar'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-6335340473016882712</id><published>2010-10-22T21:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T21:25:27.894+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A vida é sonho. Não no que nele tem de ilusão, mas no que tem de ambição.&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/8103006-6335340473016882712?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/6335340473016882712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/6335340473016882712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/10/sonho.html' title='Sonho'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-1164454352592544254</id><published>2010-10-20T16:06:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T20:09:28.565+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Leitura</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ser-se Homem significa, sobretudo, ser-se um agente intencional sobre o mundo. Foi por isso necessário inventar a palavra: para agir sobre a intencionalidade do outro. Mas existe também uma intencionalidade na interpretação da palavra, que leva, em última instância, a que não seja a palavra do outro o que nos afecta, mas sim nós próprios que decidimos de que forma somos afectados. Porque para a compreensão é necessária a identificação. Leio, não o que o outro escreveu, mas sim o que eu poderia ter escrito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-1164454352592544254?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/1164454352592544254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/1164454352592544254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/10/leitura.html' title='Leitura'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-9217859974877137604</id><published>2010-10-18T11:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T11:05:33.126+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Negação</title><content type='html'>Negar a vida, para assim justificar melhor a dor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-9217859974877137604?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/9217859974877137604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/9217859974877137604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/10/negacao.html' title='Negação'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-92316298680122521</id><published>2010-09-19T22:08:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T22:13:04.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Impossível</title><content type='html'>O amor existe, talvez, quando queremos o impossível. E esperamos, apesar de tudo, que o não seja.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-92316298680122521?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/92316298680122521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/92316298680122521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/09/impossivel.html' title='Impossível'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-658018638167319541</id><published>2010-09-13T14:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T14:48:27.115+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quid</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sinto-me mais só, desde que te conheci. O que me faz agora questionar se a procura da solidão era, não uma forma de me encontrar, mas uma forma de te esquecer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-658018638167319541?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/658018638167319541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/658018638167319541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2010/09/quid.html' title='Quid'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-4689563903217785907</id><published>2008-06-26T23:22:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T00:00:10.858+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ódio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Primeiro há o ódio. Só depois vem o motivo. E é esse o segredo do nosso activismo. Nós agimos, não porque queiramos alguma coisa. Mas porque não queremos alguma coisa. E é quando não sabemos o quê, que se instala uma inquietação indefinida, que nos pode levar aos actos mais radicais. No limite, leva-nos ao ódio por tudo.&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/8103006-4689563903217785907?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/4689563903217785907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/4689563903217785907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2008/06/dio.html' title='Ódio'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-8178154967496244506</id><published>2007-10-02T23:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T23:56:28.573+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Declaração</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Desculpa-me. Não sou eu quem decide. É qualquer outra coisa por mim ou em mim, que não sei. E é só aqui que começa a minha liberdade: aceitar, ou negar. Eu escolhi aceitar. E por isso digo-te:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amo-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-8178154967496244506?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8178154967496244506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/8178154967496244506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/10/declarao.html' title='Declaração'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-2145613496402583148</id><published>2007-08-16T20:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T20:11:06.275+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Génio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ultimamente, prefere-se ser génio a ter génio. Mas um génio sem génio, não tem genialidade nenhuma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-2145613496402583148?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/2145613496402583148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/2145613496402583148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/08/gnio.html' title='Génio'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-5319357002796945802</id><published>2007-08-14T22:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T22:02:49.224+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Afectos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A História do homem, e aquela que merece ser contada, é a história dos seus afectos.&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/8103006-5319357002796945802?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/5319357002796945802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/5319357002796945802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/08/afectos.html' title='Afectos'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-4780931463832035520</id><published>2007-08-07T23:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T23:29:58.006+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Limbo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O limbo é a impossibilidade de voltar atrás e a incapacidade de seguir em frente. E é por isso tão adequado àqueles que perderam a inocência, mas não a consciência.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-4780931463832035520?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/4780931463832035520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/4780931463832035520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/08/limbo.html' title='Limbo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-82789439265062273</id><published>2007-07-18T00:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T00:25:32.105+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Muletas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A paranóia com a segurança não é um fenómeno recente. É, aliás, condição necessária da nossa existência e, como tal, acompanha-nos desde o início. Não me refiro apenas à salvaguarda da integridade física, que é um factor biológico, animal, mas sobretudo à da integridade moral. Porque é nesta que mais se destaca aquilo que definimos como a nossa personalidade. Um conjunto de comportamentos que assumimos como sendo a melhor via para nos assegurarmos a nós próprios. Mas não nos iludamos em pensar que a integridade que julgamos ter é fruto de algo puramente interno, incorruptível, como os átomos de Demócrito ou as mónadas de Leibniz. Pelo contrário, cada atitude que tomamos é um objecto estranho, exterior a nós próprios. Uma muleta. O sucesso, o amor, o poder, o saber, a solidão. E até todos os contrários destes: a ignorância, a subserviência, o ódio, a dor. E tudo quanto possamos pensar. Andamos todos à procura do mesmo, ainda que de formas totalmente contrárias e até contraditórias.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-82789439265062273?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/82789439265062273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/82789439265062273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/07/muletas.html' title='Muletas'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-117529904624703894</id><published>2007-03-31T01:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T01:57:26.256+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Aparição</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Por vezes, escrever, como falar, é apenas uma forma de marcar presença.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-117529904624703894?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/117529904624703894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/117529904624703894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/03/apario.html' title='Aparição'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-117252653703418227</id><published>2007-02-26T21:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-02-26T21:48:57.043Z</updated><title type='text'>Realização</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Andamos todos à procura do sentimento de realização. E julgamos que este tem dois nomes: o de realização pessoal e o de realização profissional. Ou seja, queremos fazer aquilo que gostamos e de estar com quem gostamos. Mas o verdadeiro desafio é gostarmos do que fazemos e de com quem estamos. A realização é um sentimento do qual temos de estar em posse à partida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-117252653703418227?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/117252653703418227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/117252653703418227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/02/realizao.html' title='Realização'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-116855518665150085</id><published>2007-01-11T22:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-11T22:39:46.660Z</updated><title type='text'>Posteridade</title><content type='html'>Com a internet, até a posteridade está globalizada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-116855518665150085?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116855518665150085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116855518665150085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/01/posteridade.html' title='Posteridade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-116838513506418347</id><published>2007-01-09T23:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:25:35.076Z</updated><title type='text'>Invasões</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sentir a tua falta é reconhecer que ocupas um espaço em mim, que não ocupas já fora de mim. Esquecer-te é diminuir a dimensão que tens em mim. Se me ocupares na totalidade, nada serei sem ti. O meu amor por ti mede-se pela tua capacidade em me invadires, ou pela minha incapacidade em te deter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-116838513506418347?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116838513506418347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116838513506418347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2007/01/invases.html' title='Invasões'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-116457760802888231</id><published>2006-11-26T21:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-26T21:46:48.053Z</updated><title type='text'>Insubstituibilidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Costuma dizer-se que não existem insubstituíveis. Mas ninguém age como se isso fosse verdade. E, no fundo, é sempre esse o motivo pelo qual reagimos ao desaparecimento de alguém.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-116457760802888231?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116457760802888231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116457760802888231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/11/insubstituibilidade_26.html' title='Insubstituibilidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-116371748216618038</id><published>2006-11-16T22:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-16T22:52:27.453Z</updated><title type='text'>Presente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O presente é o ponto de intersecção entre memória e expectativa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-116371748216618038?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116371748216618038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116371748216618038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/11/presente.html' title='Presente'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-116077139427577776</id><published>2006-10-13T21:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T21:29:54.286+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oportunismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O saber científico é um saber por aproximação. Por se tratar de um saber construído empiricamente, nunca está errado de todo. Mas não estar errado, não significa que esteja certo. As certezas científicas sempre estarão sujeitas à falsificabilidade, o que significa que têm um carácter virtualmente transitório. De que me serve uma certeza da qual eu não posso ter a certeza? Os sucessos da ciência moderna dependem grandemente do senso comum. Ou seja, resumem-se a experiências, deliberadas ou ocasionais, de cujos resultados podem retirar proveitos. A ciência é oportunista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-116077139427577776?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116077139427577776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/116077139427577776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/10/oportunismo.html' title='Oportunismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-115740623213468601</id><published>2006-09-04T22:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T22:43:52.153+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Entendimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O entendimento entre duas pessoas, nunca o é de ideias, mas sim de almas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-115740623213468601?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115740623213468601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115740623213468601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/09/entendimento.html' title='Entendimento'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-115574142285899369</id><published>2006-08-16T16:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T16:17:02.880+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorriso</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O teu sorriso, é o sorriso de uma caveira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-115574142285899369?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115574142285899369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115574142285899369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/08/sorriso.html' title='Sorriso'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-115436951608504206</id><published>2006-07-31T19:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T19:11:56.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Laicidade</title><content type='html'>O meu amor por ti é laico.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-115436951608504206?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115436951608504206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115436951608504206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/07/laicidade.html' title='Laicidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-115321178479820584</id><published>2006-07-18T09:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T09:36:24.806+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Investimentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É como dá a entender Clarice Lispector: as pessoas são, para nós, investimentos. Nunca saberemos ao certo que retorno esperar delas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-115321178479820584?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115321178479820584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/115321178479820584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/07/investimentos.html' title='Investimentos'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114985090614483078</id><published>2006-06-09T11:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T12:01:46.156+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ausência</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não é o tempo que tudo cura, mas sim a distância. Perco o significado que tens para mim, quando me habituas à tua ausência.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114985090614483078?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114985090614483078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114985090614483078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/06/ausncia.html' title='Ausência'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114911554531012913</id><published>2006-05-31T23:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-31T23:45:45.323+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Equação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Teremos nós razões para gostarmos de quem gostamos? Será o amor, ou até a empatia, um fenómeno racional? A verdade é que temos dificuldades em aceitar a segunda tese. Mas ela decorre da primeira, da qual não largamos mão. Todos pensamos que os nossos amigos o são pelas suas maravilhosas qualidades, as quais prontamente reconhecemos. Mas se assim é, a amizade redunda numa equação matemática.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114911554531012913?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114911554531012913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114911554531012913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/05/equao.html' title='Equação'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114556870477239260</id><published>2006-04-20T22:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T22:31:44.783+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Legião</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Somos muitos, como o Legião descrito por S. Marcos no Novo Testamento. Somos muitos, um por cada momento em que somos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114556870477239260?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114556870477239260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114556870477239260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/04/legio.html' title='Legião'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114365874616338150</id><published>2006-03-29T19:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T22:04:04.616+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Neologismos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E eis que Deus chama o homem a participar da criação, quando é este quem nomeia os seres criados. Acontece que os seres criados já existiam antes de serem nomeados, mas só depois de serem nomeados é que passaram a existir. Por outras palavras: um mocho é já um mocho antes de ser um mocho? Mesmo Deus teve de esperar que o homem dissesse o que é um mocho, para que ele soubesse o que era um mocho. Não que ele não soubesse o que um mocho é, apenas não sabia que aquilo que o mocho é era um mocho. A nomeação é a forma de criação exclusivamente humana, o acto que nos faz participar da divindade. Hoje já pouco resta desta actividade criativa. Tudo quanto hoje se nomeia, resulta de uma composição daquilo que foi já nomeado: a informática é a ciência da informação. Há muitos séculos que o homem sabe o que é uma ciência e o que é a informação, apenas se não lembrou mais cedo de juntar os dois conceitos. O progressivo desaparecimento de línguas agrava a situação, pois perde-se um sistema de nomeação das coisas que é intraduzível, como todas as línguas o são. Por fim, a crise das línguas é também a crise das artes. Não podemos criar enquanto não aprendermos novamente a nomear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114365874616338150?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114365874616338150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114365874616338150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/03/neologismos.html' title='Neologismos'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114082351308902862</id><published>2006-02-24T23:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-24T23:25:13.100Z</updated><title type='text'>Saber</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não sei já aquilo que soube. Quanto muito, tenho alguma memória, de maior ou menor intensidade, daquilo que soube. Por isso escrevo. De alguma forma, tento fixar um momento de pretensiosa lucidez. Mas quando leio o que escrevi, e que já não sei, não tenho já possibilidade de entender esse saber. Ignorantemente, fico com a consolação de um dia ter sabido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114082351308902862?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114082351308902862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114082351308902862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/02/saber.html' title='Saber'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-114056012299288869</id><published>2006-02-21T22:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-21T22:15:23.003Z</updated><title type='text'>Factos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Em questões de facto, ninguém tem razão. Em questões de facto, consulta-se a enciclopédia. Um facto não se deduz a partir de determinadas premissas. Um facto limita-se a sê-lo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-114056012299288869?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114056012299288869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/114056012299288869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/02/factos.html' title='Factos'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113996049641289858</id><published>2006-02-14T23:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-14T23:41:36.423Z</updated><title type='text'>Licenciosidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O paradoxo de todos os fenómenos associados à liberdade é a sua permissão e assimilação (que não significa diluição) de fenómenos contrários à liberdade. Foi assim com a ascensão de Hitler na Alemanha democrática, e com o cristianismo (religião exclusivista) no seio de um Império Romano pautado por uma prática de liberdade religiosa. Uma vez mais, estes mesmos radicalismos colocam hoje em causa uma civilização que foi construída: a ausência de liberdade religiosa coarcta a liberdade de expressão, alimentando-a e extremando-a. Esta, por sua vez, coarcta a ausência de liberdade religiosa, alimentando-a e extremando-a. Se é evidente que a solução só pode passar por uma moderação consentida e habitada, já não é tão evidente o caminho para a atingir. A descompensação de uma das partes pode não trazer consigo a proporcional descompensação da outra parte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113996049641289858?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113996049641289858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113996049641289858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/02/licenciosidade.html' title='Licenciosidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113944247774833496</id><published>2006-02-08T23:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-08T23:47:57.763Z</updated><title type='text'>Submissão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“If you love him, you must trust him, bad or good”, dizia o agente de Dixon Steele (Humphrey Bogart) a Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame) no filme &lt;em&gt;In a Lonely Place&lt;/em&gt;, de Nicholas Ray. Mais que uma prova de amor, a confiança torna-se assim uma prova de submissão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113944247774833496?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113944247774833496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113944247774833496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/02/submisso.html' title='Submissão'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113813821528948819</id><published>2006-01-24T21:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-24T21:34:06.913Z</updated><title type='text'>Escondido</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Em cinema, ou na televisão, os meios de produção encontram-se escondidos do público, mas esses mesmos meios de produção integram o actor enquanto tal. Por outras palavras, o actor sabe que se encontra a representar porque se encontra inserido numa lógica de encenação. Encenação esta que assume uma pretensão de realidade para o público. Mas o que aconteceria se o actor ignorasse os meios de produção? O que aconteceria se um actor falhasse no reconhecimento do seu próprio acto de representação? A encenação de que o actor faria parte assumiria, então, uma pretensão de realidade para o próprio actor. &lt;em&gt;Caché&lt;/em&gt; (Escondido, Oculto, Dissimulado) desconcerta sobretudo, porque nos obriga a uma identificação com os personagens, simultaneamente dissimuladores e autênticos. Poderemos afirmar com Georges que não temos “nada a esconder”?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113813821528948819?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113813821528948819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113813821528948819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/01/escondido.html' title='Escondido'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113784737553262808</id><published>2006-01-21T12:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-21T12:42:55.543Z</updated><title type='text'>Novidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Há uma permanente busca pela novidade que é intrínseca ao ser humano. E é este o principal motivo pelo qual o homem jamais se deterá na verdade, pois esta se pretende imutável, imóvel e imperecível. Se o homem estiver certo, não deixará por isso de inventar uma qualquer novidade que a substitua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113784737553262808?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113784737553262808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113784737553262808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/01/novidade.html' title='Novidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113769898753280967</id><published>2006-01-19T19:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-19T19:29:47.546Z</updated><title type='text'>1984</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Existe o preconceito de que a &lt;em&gt;big brotherização&lt;/em&gt; consiste numa violentação da dignidade humana, em tudo quanto ela tem de direito de privacidade. Compreendeu-se que o homem possa consentir nessa vigilância de que é alvo, mas esqueceu-se que o homem desejou essa mesma vigilância. E foi o que Orwell também não previu. Atente-se à proliferação de blogues e fotologues ditos pessoais, e como eles constituem modos de acesso a um campo que se pressupunha estritamente familiar. Em última instância, caminhamos para um mundo ausente de qualquer sentimento de estranheza ou indiferentismo, e, consequentemente, de novidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113769898753280967?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113769898753280967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113769898753280967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/01/1984.html' title='1984'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113718108792001420</id><published>2006-01-13T19:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-13T19:38:07.933Z</updated><title type='text'>Pedagogismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Um pedagogo não pode ser um explorador de potencialidades, mas justamente um potenciador.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113718108792001420?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113718108792001420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113718108792001420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/01/pedagogismo.html' title='Pedagogismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113624628198588346</id><published>2006-01-02T23:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-02T23:58:01.996Z</updated><title type='text'>Discernimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Do lado de lá de uma televisão noticiava-se um qualquer conflito internacional, um massacre, ou os números da morte por subnutrição na Etiópia, já não sei. Do lado de cá expressava-se o espanto pela gravata do jornalista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113624628198588346?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113624628198588346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113624628198588346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2006/01/discernimento.html' title='Discernimento'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113568011395201935</id><published>2005-12-27T10:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-27T10:41:53.963Z</updated><title type='text'>Moral</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O relativismo é um moralismo subtil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113568011395201935?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113568011395201935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113568011395201935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/12/moral.html' title='Moral'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113465047469013437</id><published>2005-12-15T12:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-15T12:41:14.700Z</updated><title type='text'>Bergman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não há relação sem compromisso. Nem que o compromisso seja o descomprometimento. Porque não há como impedir a formação de expectativas, o que é o motor do nosso relacionamento com o outro, na dialéctica da aproximação e do afastamento, da afecção e da repulsão. O compromisso é a regulação das expectativas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113465047469013437?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113465047469013437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113465047469013437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/12/bergman.html' title='Bergman'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113441349330306596</id><published>2005-12-12T18:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-12T18:51:33.313Z</updated><title type='text'>Permanências</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que é que &lt;em&gt;em&lt;/em&gt; nós permanece quando mudamos? O que é que &lt;em&gt;de&lt;/em&gt; nós permanece quando mudamos? Afirmar a existência de permanências, permite-nos determinarmo-nos através de referentes, sejam eles essenciais ou temporais. Mas proíbe-nos a extrema liberdade de sermos, fora das convenções individuais e sociais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113441349330306596?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113441349330306596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113441349330306596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/12/permanncias.html' title='Permanências'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113421945302310575</id><published>2005-12-10T12:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-02T23:59:28.643Z</updated><title type='text'>Heroísmo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não há realização possível através de uma grande obra. Seja ela uma grande obra de arte, ou uma grande obra de amor. Porque a vida, em tudo quanto ela possa ter de identificação, jamais o será apenas com um único feito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113421945302310575?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113421945302310575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113421945302310575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/12/herosmo.html' title='Heroísmo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113276511829132330</id><published>2005-11-23T16:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-23T17:06:48.726Z</updated><title type='text'>Fuga</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A melhor forma de evitar a rejeição é não pretender a aceitação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113276511829132330?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113276511829132330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113276511829132330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/11/fuga.html' title='Fuga'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113266733877934912</id><published>2005-11-22T13:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-22T13:48:58.790Z</updated><title type='text'>Ser</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não sou menos que os outros. Mas a cada dia que passa sou menos que eu próprio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113266733877934912?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113266733877934912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113266733877934912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/11/ser.html' title='Ser'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-113036839262223173</id><published>2005-10-26T23:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T00:13:12.646+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rosa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Com a democracia, descobrimos que somos nós próprios os responsáveis por aquilo que se encontra estabelecido. É por isso importante recordar Rosa Parks. Continuamos a necessitar de quem se recuse a ceder o seu lugar no autocarro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-113036839262223173?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113036839262223173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/113036839262223173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/10/rosa.html' title='Rosa'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112967343920437699</id><published>2005-10-18T23:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T23:10:39.210+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Identidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que de mim permanece constitui-me para além da personalidade, mas não me constitui necessariamente enquanto indivíduo. Afinal, qual a minha grande ambição? Ser único?, ser autêntico?, ser social? Ah, sim!, bem sei! Ser tudo isso e mais! Nem nos apercebemos que a afirmação absoluta de qualquer destes, conduz à exclusão absoluta dos outros.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112967343920437699?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112967343920437699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112967343920437699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/10/identidade.html' title='Identidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112837597927633342</id><published>2005-10-03T22:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T22:46:19.280+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Finalismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A existência humana não tem um sentido, ou quando o tem é definido pela finalidade dada à existência. Pois se a existência humana tivesse um sentido que fosse originário, então a sua finalidade seria demonstrada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112837597927633342?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112837597927633342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112837597927633342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/10/finalismo.html' title='Finalismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112742482780900619</id><published>2005-09-22T22:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T22:33:47.816+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Antropologia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O homem não é definível. Porque quando se define, já não está de acordo com essa definição.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112742482780900619?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112742482780900619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112742482780900619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/09/antropologia.html' title='Antropologia'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112682148589291681</id><published>2005-09-15T22:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T22:58:05.896+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Efeméride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que terá a vida de tão interessante para que a morte sempre a consuma?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112682148589291681?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112682148589291681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112682148589291681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/09/efemride.html' title='Efeméride'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112664801564965851</id><published>2005-09-13T22:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T22:49:04.766+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O pacto que se estabelece com o estado das coisas advém da impossibilidade de se identificarem os responsáveis. Na verdade, o estado de confusão em que nos vemos envolvidos é tão generalizado, que dele participamos e para ele contribuímos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112664801564965851?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112664801564965851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112664801564965851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/09/confuso.html' title='Confusão'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112656223774859985</id><published>2005-09-12T22:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T22:57:17.753+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolutismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Toda a definição é já um absolutismo. Não adianta, portanto, afirmar o relativismo. Porque, no limite, afirmá-lo é já refutá-lo. Não se pense, porém, que o homem se deva presumir detentor de alguma verdade. Certezas, só as têm os incautos. E só quem não crê não tem dúvidas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112656223774859985?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112656223774859985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112656223774859985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/09/absolutismo.html' title='Absolutismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112482788203493405</id><published>2005-08-23T21:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T21:11:22.040+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Suicídio</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Também nas atitudes em relação ao suicídio se revela o essencial do pensamento social. A condenação do suicídio afirma a legitimidade da sociedade perante o indivíduo, enquanto a sua aceitação é reveladora do pensamento liberal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112482788203493405?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112482788203493405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112482788203493405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/08/suicdio.html' title='Suicídio'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112353380825853664</id><published>2005-08-08T21:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T21:43:28.263+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Reformulação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A revolta do homem para com Deus tem a sua génese na recusa de que a sua acção fosse já conhecida, estivesse já determinada. Mas ao reconhecer que o seu acto era absoluto, inventou novos deuses para lhes atribuir a responsabilidade dos seus actos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112353380825853664?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112353380825853664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112353380825853664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/08/reformulao.html' title='Reformulação'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112231898671081888</id><published>2005-07-25T20:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-25T20:16:26.720+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaccionarismo</title><content type='html'>Uma revolução também é uma reacção.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112231898671081888?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112231898671081888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112231898671081888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/07/reaccionarismo.html' title='Reaccionarismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112198520067511648</id><published>2005-07-21T23:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T23:33:20.683+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pêsames</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-Os meus sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;em&gt;Quais?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112198520067511648?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112198520067511648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112198520067511648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/07/psames.html' title='Pêsames'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112144579661779988</id><published>2005-07-15T17:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T17:43:16.623+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Autocomiseração</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É necessário afirmar com Rousseau que o raciocínio desenvolve o amor-próprio, porque o pensamento cria um distanciamento com o objecto pensado. Quanto mais me penso, mais me reconheço único, e maior a dificuldade em identificar-me. Sem identificação, não há empatia, e desenvolve-se o isolamento. Quanto mais me penso, mais me torno indiferente perante tudo o que não sou eu. O conhecimento ocupa o lugar do sentimento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112144579661779988?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112144579661779988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112144579661779988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/07/autocomiserao.html' title='Autocomiseração'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112120609146855679</id><published>2005-07-12T23:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T23:08:11.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Demito-me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Esqueço-me. Ou repito-me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112120609146855679?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112120609146855679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112120609146855679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/07/demito-me.html' title='Demito-me'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112077037702424332</id><published>2005-07-07T21:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T22:06:17.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Convergência</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A acção é tudo aquilo que encontra expressão de facto. Por detrás de um aparente pragmatismo diferenciado de uma verdade oculta, sublinha-se que toda a verdade, apercebida ou não, age sobre todas as coisas. Mais, só aquilo que age pode ter existência, pois caso contrário, todas as potências existiriam já e seriam agentes. A realidade seria assim, simultaneamente, tudo aquilo que é e que pode ser. Seria um eterno convergente de todas as possibilidades e, como tal, indisponível para qualquer dinâmica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112077037702424332?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112077037702424332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112077037702424332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/07/convergncia.html' title='Convergência'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-112016426593886567</id><published>2005-06-30T21:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T21:44:25.943+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Luto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É perante a liberdade que nos surge a sensação de desorientação. Que fazer depois de todos os obstáculos estarem derrubados? Necessitamos, pois, de novas prisões, para delas nos libertarmos. É isso o que nos mantém ocupados, o que nos dá a ilusão de vivermos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(É talvez por isso que a morte de Emídio Guerreiro nos não sensibiliza tanto quanto a morte de Álvaro Cunhal. Enquanto este empenhou a sua liberdade para se legitimar, o primeiro quis conquistar a liberdade porque acreditava na legitimidade do homem)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-112016426593886567?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112016426593886567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/112016426593886567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/luto.html' title='Luto'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111965720743783473</id><published>2005-06-25T00:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T00:53:27.443+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Afirmo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estamos sempre a tentar localizar o agora, para o afirmarmos. Porque quando afirmo, torno isso que afirmo durável. Esta dinâmica que em tudo observamos, e à qual sabemos não escapar, provoca-nos a vertigem do nada em que constantemente nos tornamos. Afirmo, para que alguma coisa sobreviva ao nada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111965720743783473?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111965720743783473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111965720743783473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/afirmo.html' title='Afirmo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111918109668726524</id><published>2005-06-19T12:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T12:38:16.693+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Coerência</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Entre a adjectivação pretensamente elogiosa, destaca-se a coerência. Mas esta tem-se confundido com o estatismo, com o conservadorismo ideológico, alheio à dinâmica e às consequentes contradições do homem. A coerência é a adequação das ideias ao mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111918109668726524?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111918109668726524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111918109668726524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/coerncia.html' title='Coerência'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111818099078407422</id><published>2005-06-07T22:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T22:49:50.790+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tolerância</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É estranho o conceito de limite à violação do aceitável. Implica uma condescendência da sociedade perante o inaceitável do individuo, e um esforço de contenção do individuo perante o inaceitável da sociedade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111818099078407422?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111818099078407422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111818099078407422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/tolerncia.html' title='Tolerância'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111801440202297893</id><published>2005-06-05T23:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-06T00:33:22.030+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Parmenedianismo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Se o mundo tivesse sido feito à imagem de Deus, viveríamos sobre o mais completo tédio. Porque aquilo que é perfeito nunca poderá comportar a mudança.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111801440202297893?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111801440202297893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111801440202297893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/parmenedianismo.html' title='Parmenedianismo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111766076520901535</id><published>2005-06-01T22:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T22:19:25.216+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mudança</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As coisas já não são o que eram. Mas foi por agora o ter dito que as coisas deixaram de ser o que eram. Porque só muda aquilo que sentimos, quando o sentimos. E aí, o que mudou fomos nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111766076520901535?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111766076520901535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111766076520901535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/06/mudana.html' title='Mudança'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111748716727365802</id><published>2005-05-30T22:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T22:06:07.280+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Revolto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A razão última do meu ódio é que te amo. E amo-te tão desmesuradamente que te não aceito, que te não tolero. Porque os teus gestos, as tuas palavras, as tuas acções contêm todo o significado. Mas eu não encontro sentido nesse significado. Provocas-me a falência do mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111748716727365802?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111748716727365802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111748716727365802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/revolto.html' title='Revolto'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111727977694910721</id><published>2005-05-27T23:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-28T12:30:47.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Epopeia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ah, a fé que me sonha maior do que sou! E saber que os sonhos se não sonham ou se vivem, senão trivialmente, sem sabermos que os vivemos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111727977694910721?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111727977694910721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111727977694910721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/epopeia.html' title='Epopeia'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111661862744882429</id><published>2005-05-20T20:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-20T20:50:27.470+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Alvo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eras um alvo tão fácil, tão óbvio. Julgo que te não matei por melancolia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111661862744882429?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111661862744882429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111661862744882429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/alvo.html' title='Alvo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111645856818670010</id><published>2005-05-18T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T00:22:48.193+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O egocentrismo não tem de implicar necessariamente o narcisismo. Porque eu posso odiar-me e pretender-me o centro de todos os ódios. O que o egocentrismo obriga é a uma presunção, manifestação e imposição orgulhosa do ego. E não há contradição nisto. O orgulho que se exibe é relativo ao sem número de virtudes e defeitos que nos tornam únicos. Como o orgulho centra-se na individualidade, perpetuam-se e gritam-se desalmadamente as virtudes e os defeitos, para que não sobre ninguém que a não reconheça.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111645856818670010?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111645856818670010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111645856818670010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/ode.html' title='Ode'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111608547223258938</id><published>2005-05-14T16:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-14T16:44:32.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Determinantes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Porquê tomar decisões em função de um futuro que ninguém conhece?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111608547223258938?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111608547223258938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111608547223258938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/determinantes.html' title='Determinantes'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111601184485925160</id><published>2005-05-13T20:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T20:17:24.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Arte</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Se o homem está condenado a dar resposta aos seus enigmas, pela sua incapacidade de se sustentar no nada, como pode a arte ser tomada como absoluta? Pois o que define a arte é o seu mistério, é a sua capacidade de nos provocar vertigens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111601184485925160?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111601184485925160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111601184485925160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/arte.html' title='Arte'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111576589114442545</id><published>2005-05-10T23:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T23:58:11.150+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Solitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Estamos irremediavelmente sós no mundo. Talvez só quando aceitarmos essa nossa condição deixaremos de pretender e presumir dos outros o que quer que seja.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111576589114442545?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111576589114442545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111576589114442545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/solitude.html' title='Solitude'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111533303387652549</id><published>2005-05-05T23:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T23:43:53.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Aspirância</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Quando me lembro de que sinto a tua falta, observo pela janela quem passa, e entretenho-me a acreditar que és tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111533303387652549?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111533303387652549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111533303387652549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/aspirncia.html' title='Aspirância'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111523870840098874</id><published>2005-05-04T21:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T21:31:48.406+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Relativo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O relativismo tem conhecido uma crescente aceitação, porque permite uma atitude cómoda perante a vida, com a qual se não estabelecem compromissos. Sob uma máscara de tolerância perante todo e qualquer acto, a relativização é a expressão maior de um egoísmo, porque, no limite, pretende justificar as próprias escolhas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111523870840098874?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111523870840098874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111523870840098874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/relativo.html' title='Relativo'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111515772763971788</id><published>2005-05-03T22:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T23:02:07.640+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Epicuro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nada existe na natureza que não seja quotidiano. Pois caso contrário, quem seria o seu autor?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111515772763971788?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111515772763971788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111515772763971788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/epicuro.html' title='Epicuro'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111507136081266329</id><published>2005-05-02T23:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T23:05:01.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinâmica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que compromisso estabelece o escritor com aquilo que escreve? Porque aquilo que está escrito não é já aquilo que foi escrito. Pode ambicionar-se a objectividade nas palavras, mas não que essa objectividade seja estática. Mas se a escrita não é um meio através do qual se pode obter a imortalidade, para quê escrever? (Talvez para ser agente dessa dinâmica)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111507136081266329?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111507136081266329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111507136081266329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/05/dinmica.html' title='Dinâmica'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111486077400448511</id><published>2005-04-30T12:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-30T12:32:54.006+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Evocação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É claro que estás vivo. A qualquer momento posso cruzar-me contigo numa qualquer rua, num qualquer bar. E por vezes cruzo-me, ainda que te não fale. Mas, afinal, nunca empreendemos grande diálogo entre nós, e eu só sei o teu primeiro nome. Estás vivo porque me lembro de ti, e nada há de metafísico nisto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111486077400448511?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111486077400448511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111486077400448511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/evocao.html' title='Evocação'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111454707418241939</id><published>2005-04-26T21:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T21:24:34.183+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Inferno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A intenção é a mediação entre a vontade e a acção. Que devemos então julgar? O acto que se não funda na vontade? A vontade que não chega a ter expressão? O esforço de conciliar a vontade e a acção? De que está o inferno cheio?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111454707418241939?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111454707418241939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111454707418241939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/inferno.html' title='Inferno'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111402909702582666</id><published>2005-04-20T21:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T21:31:37.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ética</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Um acto virtuoso só está terminado quando dele não tivermos consciência.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111402909702582666?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111402909702582666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111402909702582666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/tica.html' title='Ética'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111386035538681074</id><published>2005-04-18T22:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T22:41:06.660+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Absoluto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Existe em nós uma necessidade absoluta de absoluto: deus, o outro ou eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque quando estás na minha presença, as minhas opiniões, as minhas acções, as minhas vontades não são significantes. Tu és o absoluto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque é na tua ausência, na presença de mim a mim próprio, que sei e que ajo e que vivo. Eu sou o absoluto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111386035538681074?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111386035538681074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111386035538681074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/absoluto.html' title='Absoluto'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111359707655167788</id><published>2005-04-15T21:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T21:31:16.553+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Puro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cuidado, não te tornes tu também numa ideia, de tantas ideias que tens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111359707655167788?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111359707655167788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111359707655167788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/puro.html' title='Puro'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111342579941957765</id><published>2005-04-13T21:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T09:08:53.660+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Conceito</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Um conceito é um preconceito do qual temos conhecimento da justificação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111342579941957765?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111342579941957765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111342579941957765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/conceito.html' title='Conceito'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111325872844284394</id><published>2005-04-11T23:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T23:32:08.443+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Comunidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A sanidade mental é a loucura partilhada. Porque a verdade é apenas a ordem comum, mas esta é tão arbitrária como qualquer outra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111325872844284394?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111325872844284394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111325872844284394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/comunidade.html' title='Comunidade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111317306871638870</id><published>2005-04-10T23:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T23:44:28.716+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Deuses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O homem descobriu-se enquanto deus porque reconheceu que o seu acto, o produto da sua vontade, é absoluto, livre, espontâneo. Mas o homem é demasiado fraco para suportar a sua própria divindade, e assim foi inventando outros deuses a quem se submeter, e a quem atribuir a responsabilidade dos seus actos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111317306871638870?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111317306871638870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111317306871638870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/deuses.html' title='Deuses'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111299403747528535</id><published>2005-04-08T22:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-08T22:00:37.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Passividade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Actuar é tornar actual. Se existes, és tu próprio também um acto. A autodeterminação é condição inerente de tudo quanto possas ter ideia. A passividade não existe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111299403747528535?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111299403747528535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111299403747528535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/passividade.html' title='Passividade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111273437173645583</id><published>2005-04-05T21:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T21:52:51.736+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que queres que faça? Que seja indiferente perante ti? Que não goste de ti? Existem possibilidades que não fazem parte do meu leque de opções.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111273437173645583?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111273437173645583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111273437173645583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/obsesso.html' title='Obsessão'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111265575653341624</id><published>2005-04-04T11:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T00:02:36.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Literatura</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;De que nos serve a literatura se tudo o que vale a pena é incomunicável? Porque aquilo que digo não é aquilo que intento, nem aquilo que interpretas, mas a própria coisa dita, que é irredutível.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111265575653341624?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111265575653341624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111265575653341624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/04/literatura.html' title='Literatura'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111231079144054104</id><published>2005-03-31T11:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T00:13:11.440+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ensaio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cada gesto, um ensaio para o gesto seguinte. Um treino para, no dia certo, viver de facto. E enquanto esse dia não surge, vou ensaiando a vida. (E se esse dia não surgir, terei sido um protótipo de vida.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111231079144054104?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111231079144054104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111231079144054104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/ensaio.html' title='Ensaio'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111220847331858539</id><published>2005-03-30T19:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T19:47:53.320+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberdade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A ordem é uma construção. Natural, divina, humana, não interessa. Interessa, é que todo a acção involuntária é artificial, necessária, mecânica. A liberdade só pode existir no caos. A acção livre só pode existir enquanto desprovida de sentido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111220847331858539?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111220847331858539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111220847331858539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/liberdade.html' title='Liberdade'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111195998986700256</id><published>2005-03-27T22:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T22:46:29.866+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fé</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Um homem maior do que a própria fé? Mas se é a fé que o faz maior do que aquilo que é, que o preenche, que o torna absoluto, que o faz transcender-se. A fé não é uma opção, uma forma de viver, de estar. A fé é a única forma de ser, porque é condição necessária, imposta por algo que está para além de nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111195998986700256?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111195998986700256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111195998986700256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/f.html' title='Fé'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111170462709838158</id><published>2005-03-24T22:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-24T22:50:27.100Z</updated><title type='text'>Resposta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Pensar no passado. Afinal é lá que acreditamos se encontrarem as respostas para o presente. Conhecer o passado para compreender o presente. É mais fácil encontrar uma justificação do que tomar uma atitude de ruptura. Porque a não queremos tomar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111170462709838158?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111170462709838158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111170462709838158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/resposta.html' title='Resposta'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111152807695002339</id><published>2005-03-22T21:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-22T21:47:56.950Z</updated><title type='text'>Pele</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A experiência adquire-se na mente, e não na pele. Porque somos quem determina o significado do que nos impressiona. Aquilo que sentimos é aquilo que, antes, pretendemos sentir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111152807695002339?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111152807695002339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111152807695002339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/pele.html' title='Pele'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8103006.post-111127942168691187</id><published>2005-03-19T23:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-03-20T00:43:41.686Z</updated><title type='text'>Abnegação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Amo-te. Não quero tornar a ver-te.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8103006-111127942168691187?l=ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111127942168691187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8103006/posts/default/111127942168691187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ouvirsemsentir.blogspot.com/2005/03/abnegao.html' title='Abnegação'/><author><name>Ruben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946830290369746796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
