<?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-3189399</id><updated>2012-01-26T01:30:24.440-02:00</updated><title type='text'>.:garbage:.</title><subtitle type='html'>Strongly weak.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>695</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3253555866311834243</id><published>2012-01-26T01:30:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T01:30:24.477-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Why did...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Waiting for some inspiration. Waiting for something to come. Wanting some new situation. People? Doesn't make me happy anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3253555866311834243?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3253555866311834243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3253555866311834243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html#3253555866311834243' title='Why did...?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3261699920225580485</id><published>2012-01-13T02:24:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T02:30:30.826-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Profile.</title><content type='html'>Como você opera, age, frente aos seus objetivos e desejos:&lt;br /&gt;Está sofrendo de superestimulação contida, que ameaça descarregar-se numa explosão de comportamento impulsivo e arrebatado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suas preferências reais:&lt;br /&gt;Procura compartilhar de uma ligação de intimidade compreensiva em atmosfera estética de paz e ternura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sua situação real:&lt;br /&gt;Sente-se sobrecarregado com mais do que sua justa parcela dos problemas. Contudo, atém-se as suas metas e tenta superar as dificuldades sendo maleável e acomodado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que você quer evitar:&lt;br /&gt;Interpretação fisiológica: Supressão das necessidade físicas e nervosas do corpo. Interpretação psicológica: A situação atual é desagradável. Tem necessidade insatisfeita de aliar-se com aqueles cujos padrões sejam tão elevados quanto os seus, e de sobressair acima do vulgo. O controle dos instintos sensuais restringe sua capacidade de entregar, mas o isolamento resultante leva ao impulso para integrar-se e permitir a ligação com outra pessoa. Isso o perturba, já que tais instintos são considerados fraquezas para ser superadas; reconhece que somente pelo continuo autocontrole é que pode esperar manter sua atitude de superioridade individual. Quer ser amado ou admirado, apenas pelo que é; precisa de atenção, de aprovação e da estima geral. Em suma: Exige que o reconheçam como individuo excepcional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seu problema real:&lt;br /&gt;A necessidade de estima - de uma oportunidade para desempenhar algum papel importante e adquirir renome - tornou-se imperiosa. Reage insistindo em ser o centro de atenção e se recusa a desempenhar papel impessoal ou secundário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Happy on the outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3261699920225580485?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3261699920225580485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3261699920225580485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html#3261699920225580485' title='Profile.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6770612844564303218</id><published>2011-12-04T02:20:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T02:20:39.224-02:00</updated><title type='text'>What about?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;The same, the same and the same. The greatest new are, sarcastically, the worst ones. &lt;br&gt;The worlds spins faster and faster. While I'm here; seems like I'm pierced through the wall by a big dart made of steel: the more I gottatry to move, run or get away from it, the more I bleed and get hurt.&lt;br&gt;The only scape, without pain, is death.&lt;br&gt;So, two last drinks to die today. And tomorrow, I'll live again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6770612844564303218?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6770612844564303218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6770612844564303218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_12_01_archive.html#6770612844564303218' title='What about?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2505154638676728952</id><published>2011-11-28T08:13:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T09:02:52.336-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Year endings.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Long time, huh? And yes, as usual, things are not in the way I'd like them to be. Since sometime ago. This is my free-therapy, remember?&lt;br&gt;And why I wasn't writing here all this time? Well, there's been more than 2 years that I've my band. And, mostly of the time, it's been my scape. But we had a though year. And now, I'm having a hard time. And this is my free therapy, since I have no money at all.&lt;br&gt;Always when the year is ending. Can't be a coincidence. And this is the time I get lost, more than usual.&lt;br&gt;My heart is bothering me. It's becoming harder every day. &lt;br&gt;I'd like to be in love again. To do things with passion, irrational stuff here and there. Feel the happiness I used to feel when someone's smiling at me. To wake up with this warmth and impressions of hope. &lt;br&gt;But I can't open up myself anymore. I do not feel comfortable to let someone get a closer approach. And, irrationally, I've built some walls to keep people distant.&lt;br&gt;And, to help the situation (sarcasm, ok), persons that I was used to trust freaked out and now are behaving like 15 year-old teenagers, with no sense of compromise or loyalty. And, I don't know what is worst, holding themselves on mistakes we've made in the past; but things that I thought were solved and forgiven. So, of course I can't count on them anymore.&lt;br&gt;Like I wrote in one of my songs, "Trust is no more a main matter in this land".&lt;br&gt;The question is: what do you do when all your pillars seems to be shattered or corrupted?&lt;br&gt;I dunno the answer nor how to react anymore. I'm gonna pray for better days.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2505154638676728952?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2505154638676728952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2505154638676728952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_11_01_archive.html#2505154638676728952' title='Year endings.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5070684122853028189</id><published>2011-02-14T20:02:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T08:22:07.059-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rune Reading - The Cross.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Berkana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Present&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might experience obstacles that hamper your growth. Look for a reason in yourself. Most likely there is an internal, latent conflict. This rune can also indicate that someone needs your help and support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ehwaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Obstacles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most likely, you have faced a stagnation in the professional or creative activities. This situation deos not depend on you, it might be that ahead you will have a journey, change of residence or place of your work. Cheer up and open yourself to the new; trust your's intuition and friend's opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the center of events: do not loose the control. Solar energy simbolized by this rune provides understanding, but also can blind. If you feel loss of the energy, it's better to step back: you probably need a holiday. However, if you feel strong enough then boldly move foward and spur but don't forget to look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ingwaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have sown the seeds that have to be harvested in due time. Your energy was not spent in vain, and you have laid the foundation for the long term. Focus all energies on the final accords of your work; it's completion will bring a new future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5070684122853028189?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5070684122853028189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5070684122853028189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html#5070684122853028189' title='Rune Reading - The Cross.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3936185274458615299</id><published>2011-02-14T19:57:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T20:01:39.849-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing much to say.</title><content type='html'>Monday usually sux. Like today.&lt;br /&gt;And some people think they can say everything they know about you just 'cos the know you. Overfamiliarity. Sux a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3936185274458615299?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3936185274458615299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3936185274458615299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html#3936185274458615299' title='Nothing much to say.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2676155369185478118</id><published>2011-02-09T05:45:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T05:50:36.469-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Rune reading of today.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Eihwaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Answer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might face difficulties or obstacles. It is important to be patient and persistent; hence don't try too much to punch walls by your heard: you will have to use the intuition rather than a brute physical strenght. The best way out of the difficulties is to become a hunter, cooly and slowly tracking the prey for a single targeted attack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2676155369185478118?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2676155369185478118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2676155369185478118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html#2676155369185478118' title='Rune reading of today.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4865855676377655587</id><published>2011-02-03T23:53:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T23:53:53.428-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Another days.</title><content type='html'>Frustration. That's the word. And nothing else. I don't feel angry nor sad anymore. I'm frustrated about my life and how some people wait for you to be in your weakest moment to shoot you in the back. Thanx for the support. Always.Sometimes I wish I'd be dead and, before die, write a letter blaming someone indirectly for my death. Haunting someone forever. Blame hurts. A lot.And this is me, showing my dark and bad temper. From today on, my scars started to speak for me in some situations.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4865855676377655587?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4865855676377655587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4865855676377655587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html#4865855676377655587' title='Another days.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8336614185046704746</id><published>2011-01-03T21:00:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T22:29:43.900-02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time for the Tolkien toast again!</title><content type='html'>On the 3rd January 1892 in South Africa JRR Tolkien was born and fans of the author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy around the world will be raising a glass to him at 9pm local time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make the birthday toast The Tolkien Society say you should stand and raise a glass of your choice of drink (it doesn’t have to be an alcoholic beverage) and say the words “The Professor.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should then take a drink from the glass before sitting down to finish the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Tolkien Society is an international organization registered in the United Kingdom to encourage interest in the life and works of the late Professor J.R.R. Tolkien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.” – John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, British scholar, poet, philogist and Grandfather of high fantasy (1892 – 1973)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8336614185046704746?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8336614185046704746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8336614185046704746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html#8336614185046704746' title='It&apos;s time for the Tolkien toast again!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7933831213675291933</id><published>2010-12-27T00:12:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T00:34:47.593-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadowed.</title><content type='html'>I think I have serious problems (ok, that's a fact) and I'll try to explain them now:&lt;br /&gt;I like when people like stuff I make or do. And, eventually, when people like things you do, they start doing things like you. And that's when I start to freak out.&lt;br /&gt;You can ask me why should I freak out, mainly 'coz I have a band and the tendencies for the next season is this thing increasing. Ok, I answer: 'coz there's a THIN LINE between "likers with personality" and "copycats with no creativity". The first ones I respect. The second ones just fuckin' make me angry or bored to death. Or both.&lt;br /&gt;Good lord, I've always loved a lot of musicians, artists, etc. I've got 'stuff' from them 'coz I liked them. Ex: I've dyed my hair red because two of my favorite artists. BUT - yes, there is a but - I was sure that it wouldn't screw me up, or make me look like a whore or something. It was an influence, but I'd adjusted it to my personality. I wanted to BE LIKE them in some aspects. I didn't want to BE THEM.&lt;br /&gt;So, back to the first lines, I HATE when I realize someone is copying another someone. Like imitating every fucking thing the other person do or says. It sux, pisses me off. &lt;br /&gt;If you know someone that acts like this, please tell him/her two things:&lt;br /&gt;- Most of people doesn't like to have another shadow and&lt;br /&gt;- GET A LIFE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7933831213675291933?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7933831213675291933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7933831213675291933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html#7933831213675291933' title='Shadowed.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4885738667805964870</id><published>2010-12-05T02:58:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T03:11:02.437-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiempo.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel that my friends are getting older and I'm being left behind.&lt;br /&gt;At least, I really feel like this... &lt;br /&gt;[The Cardigans] Erase/rewind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4885738667805964870?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4885738667805964870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4885738667805964870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html#4885738667805964870' title='Tiempo.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5428826382031187145</id><published>2010-11-24T05:39:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T05:45:13.150-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Meu Arcano Pessoal.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;14 - A Temperança&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras-Chave: Alquimia e Auto-Transformação &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Acontecimento marcante a nível psicológico aos 14 anos;&lt;br /&gt;- Moderação e ponderação;&lt;br /&gt;- Espírito indagador;&lt;br /&gt;- Ciência e tecnologia podem atrair vc;&lt;br /&gt;- Motivação pessoal;&lt;br /&gt;- Precisa trabalhar sua parte emocional conflitos;&lt;br /&gt;- Sempre precisa esperar;&lt;br /&gt;- Natureza íntima elétrica;&lt;br /&gt;- Deseja ver coisas diferentes;&lt;br /&gt;- Poder de cura pelas mãos (Reiki, Cristais, Passes Magnéticos, etc);&lt;br /&gt;- Inconformismo;&lt;br /&gt;- Transforma os ambientes por onde passa;&lt;br /&gt;- Mente aguçada;&lt;br /&gt;- Deseja clareza por parte dos outros;&lt;br /&gt;- Sintonizado com as tendências mundiais;&lt;br /&gt;- Amigo(a) e participativo(a);&lt;br /&gt;- Relações afetivas tem sucesso se baseadas na amizade mútua;&lt;br /&gt;- Luta pela liberdade;&lt;br /&gt;- Quer alçar vôo e atingir o alto;&lt;br /&gt;- Comportamento às vezes utópico;&lt;br /&gt;- Telepatia;&lt;br /&gt;- Quer experimentar coisas novas;&lt;br /&gt;- Precisa estipular metas;&lt;br /&gt;- A saúde pode ser muito testada;&lt;br /&gt;- Princípios firmes;&lt;br /&gt;- Sensibilidade a sons;&lt;br /&gt;- Apreciador de uma boa música;&lt;br /&gt;- Quer agradar a todos;&lt;br /&gt;- Observação;&lt;br /&gt;- Não pode estar preso a dogmas ou doutrinas;&lt;br /&gt;- Funcionalidade;&lt;br /&gt;- Inventividade;&lt;br /&gt;- Cooperativismo;&lt;br /&gt;- Pode cuidar ou assumir a responsabilidade de alguém doente na família;&lt;br /&gt;- Confronto de idéias;&lt;br /&gt;- Teimosia em relação às suas idéias;&lt;br /&gt;- Deseja superar-se nas tarefas;&lt;br /&gt;- Incondicionalidade;&lt;br /&gt;- Atenção à área neurológica, muscular, glândulas, próstata, cabeça e   pressão;&lt;br /&gt;- Apartidário;&lt;br /&gt;- Segue sua cabeça e é seu líder;&lt;br /&gt;- Cuidado com a intolerância.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E assim sou eu. Sem erro algum. Mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Me assutava a cada item que eu ia lendo... But what can I do?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Corrs] Dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5428826382031187145?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5428826382031187145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5428826382031187145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html#5428826382031187145' title='Meu Arcano Pessoal.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2122562466386651656</id><published>2010-11-22T02:39:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T03:10:51.207-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Funday on Sunday.</title><content type='html'>'Coz today I did A LOT of things and it was fun! &lt;br /&gt;Almost 100%. Why almost? 'Coz there's always someone unhappy and with tons of problems that tries to fuck the day up. But IT DIDN't work. Just feeling kinda better now.&lt;br /&gt;Changing subjects: I'm with this weird dreamy mood these last days. Kinda romantic, I could say. I think I'm watching too much "That '70s Show", but I really would like to meet someone silly but kind like Eric. I like sarcasm and sincerity . Or, if it has to be a girl, someone like Donna. Red-haired, with strong opinions, kinda feminist, but still girlie. I'm not in a rush or seaching for someone right now: I'm hangin' out, having my affairs here and there, having fun. But, like one of my favorite bands used to sing, but in the present "My heart is open / Like a window to a summer breeze".&lt;br /&gt;Now I go. 'Night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Milk and Toast and Honey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2122562466386651656?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2122562466386651656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2122562466386651656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html#2122562466386651656' title='Funday on Sunday.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4578833375618107525</id><published>2010-11-17T01:05:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T01:58:12.829-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird days.</title><content type='html'>Yep. I've depression and it's a fact.&lt;br /&gt;But I think that is not my well-known depression that is bothering me: I know I must have patience and wait for some stuff and, after that, continue fighting my life. But I'm getting impatient - and patience used to be one of my virtues - and this little time that I can't do a thing, really act on something bigger, that is the thing depressing me...&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, realize that money really talks louder. If you have money, car, possessions, you're always gonna have someone to help you... If you can't go out, if you don't have a car, a motorcycle or some way to go anywhere quickly, anytime or if you don't have the dough to do this almost always, I'm sorry to say, but you'll have no friends.&lt;br /&gt;Well, nowadays, everyone is in a big rush, always busy working a lot, studying, doing other stuff, so noboby has much time anymore. And, if you're not avaliabe this exactly time your so-called friends want to go out, you start to missing friendships, 'coz you'll be never there. Once, twice, three times and increasing... After a while, there you are, alone: nobody call you or invite you to places, 'coz you can't go almost all the time. Nice, huh?&lt;br /&gt;I've always this idea that's worth to work or to do something that you like to do, for passion, so the work will be all done better. I think now things cleary changed: work for money, the more the better, so you can pay for the things you really like, as time, vacations, enterteinament, friends and even love. Have I said 'love'? Yes, I have. 'Coz love is easier to cultivate you you have more time and means to cultivate it and to break the routine. This stressful routine and lack of money are two of the biggest causes to start a fight between couples. You have to agree with me that if you don't have time to dedicate to your love, it's gone fade away someday.&lt;br /&gt;Well, jumping rightly to a final statement, 'coz I've written to much today, I'm in a real dark time in my life. But not the good dark, that I can see through it: a darkness that surrounded me and I just can't see or move at all, 'coz for this short time, I feel that not moving is the best way now, but my feelings seems to be covering my reasonable plans.&lt;br /&gt;But I have to wait. Just a little bit more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mary And Max].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4578833375618107525?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4578833375618107525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4578833375618107525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html#4578833375618107525' title='Weird days.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3975212168307707163</id><published>2010-11-11T01:16:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T02:34:48.838-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Once it was a feeling...</title><content type='html'>The girl I used to like was kind, long hair for a while, shoulder-lenght later. She used to be like me, strong personality without being rude; that side-smile I used to like, the way we felt about each other. She used to care of herself just to please me, her sweet perfume used to involves me and we're fine. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think it was my fault, when all my grown-up problems started to grow and things became weird... Maybe it was my lack of attention, I'll never now.&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up from my own reality, when I left the center of my tornado of problems, I just realized she was not there like I used to see her: her hair, her attitude, even her feelings about me, everything, I felt it was different. &lt;br /&gt;I still feel remorse I still think it's my fault, I dunno...&lt;br /&gt;And there she was after it all: boyish, agressive - not the strongness I use to like anymore: my baby girl was gone. The cute one, that used to hold me tight and laughed while we played with my body lotion, during my extra-girlie crisis... The one who didn't like make-up, but used to paint her nails to go out with me; The one that I tought she'd understand me, being the way I am.&lt;br /&gt;Then, the thing I maybe could call love one day, became disappointment. I tried to get used to it, to fit myself in the actual scenari. But I couldn't. And this disappointment just became bigger and bigger...&lt;br /&gt;I'm so confused, feeling guilty and I'm have this big, huge hole of disillusionment, that seems to veil every other feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to write anymore. I better go to sleep and rest.&lt;br /&gt;I just had to spit it out.&lt;br /&gt;[Band] Music.[Author] Book.[Movie, Serie s or DVD] Info about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3975212168307707163?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3975212168307707163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3975212168307707163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html#3975212168307707163' title='Once it was a feeling...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5350657487650537249</id><published>2010-11-02T01:02:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T01:04:25.362-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The year is ending.</title><content type='html'>It seems to be always depressing and I can't help it.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm moving myself for a better wind for next phases. &lt;br /&gt;Let's see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Delight] Anew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5350657487650537249?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5350657487650537249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5350657487650537249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html#5350657487650537249' title='The year is ending.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3276194688909521454</id><published>2010-10-24T01:10:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T01:17:00.804-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing a friend?</title><content type='html'>I dunno if I'm losing a friend or if I have already lost it... &lt;br /&gt;Not really a good time in my personal life, again. But at least my band-life is going just fine. &lt;br /&gt;So, it's better to fix myself in the band subjects and leave my stupid feelings for later. 'Coz I know nobody cares enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] All over but the crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3276194688909521454?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3276194688909521454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3276194688909521454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_10_01_archive.html#3276194688909521454' title='Losing a friend?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4334518398759835629</id><published>2010-08-25T00:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T00:21:50.648-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Rune reading of the day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Nied&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Original meaning: Patience&lt;br /&gt;Be patient, protect yourself first, meet your basic needs. Delays or resistance may plague you for a while, but results will ultimately be positive. Look after your health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nied is the rune of necessity and constraint. It is representative of the stresses of everyday life. However, stress, as the rune poem verse says need not be a bad thing. Often, it can signal a need for change, and if this signal is heeded, the changes to be made can lead to healing of mind, body, and soul. It is the rune of the overcoming of all odds. Whereas Wynn is a rune of joy and happiness, Nied is its nearly its opposite. Nied is the "school of hard knocks" where lessons are learned by necessity. It is therefore a rune of struggle, sometimes of the ordeal. Nonetheless it can be used to help fight hardships one endures. In the Sigdrifumal Sigdrifa advises Sigurdh to carve Nied on his finger nails and any drinking vessel to avoid enchantment. Nied can be used to avoid those situations that cause hardship by constraining those very causes. It is also the rune of the need fire, the fire created from a fire drill and used by the ancient Northern Europeans to drive away pestilence and disease and other forms of evil. For this reason, Nied also represents not only the stresses of everyday life, but the ability to overcome them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In divination, Nied indicates a need that may have to be met or overcome. In spellwork it can be used to overcome such obstacles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Within Temptaion] Overcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4334518398759835629?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4334518398759835629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4334518398759835629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html#4334518398759835629' title='Rune reading of the day.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-145375163494395313</id><published>2010-08-24T02:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T02:53:17.480-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it so hard to understand?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes we just need a hug to our world not fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Why do you love me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-145375163494395313?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/145375163494395313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/145375163494395313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html#145375163494395313' title='Is it so hard to understand?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5907312902744387597</id><published>2010-08-06T11:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T11:08:52.478-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah.</title><content type='html'>And I'm not dead yet. But I'll live again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Heart of Gold (MTV Unplugged version).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5907312902744387597?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5907312902744387597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5907312902744387597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html#5907312902744387597' title='Yeah.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8646530217828166939</id><published>2010-04-30T17:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T17:36:56.768-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Extremely happy &amp; disappointed.</title><content type='html'>Yes, at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;My band is the reason of my happiness. Rec time and we're doing good. Really good.&lt;br /&gt;Disappointments? People, as usual.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll have no money to spend for some months, so the best I can do is fulfill my time and socialize less.&lt;br /&gt;This Saturday: party up. After that: disappearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Why's it so heavy,&lt;br /&gt;This love of mine,&lt;br /&gt;I lost the feeling,&lt;br /&gt;I lost the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Cranberries] Disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;[Dan Brown] The Lost Symbol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8646530217828166939?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8646530217828166939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8646530217828166939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html#8646530217828166939' title='Extremely happy &amp; disappointed.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7904837371669479329</id><published>2010-04-20T22:45:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T22:48:53.623-03:00</updated><title type='text'>What happens...</title><content type='html'>...if you really try to accept some people the way they are but, after a while, you realize you just can't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Anneke Van Giersbergen &amp; Danny Cavanagh] You Learn About It.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7904837371669479329?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7904837371669479329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7904837371669479329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html#7904837371669479329' title='What happens...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1064887364754368708</id><published>2010-04-13T00:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T00:54:27.093-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quoting some band...</title><content type='html'>"...All the friendly hope has gone&lt;br /&gt;The last decision was already done&lt;br /&gt;Only what was left is hate&lt;br /&gt;There's no choice, it's our fate&lt;br /&gt;Deadfall, trapped in a lie&lt;br /&gt;Tired of fighting and try..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] End of the line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1064887364754368708?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1064887364754368708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1064887364754368708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html#1064887364754368708' title='Quoting some band...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2374803427700743312</id><published>2010-03-13T17:21:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T17:26:56.235-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Definitive.</title><content type='html'>Money IS the solution for all the problems in this world.&lt;br /&gt;Even the so-called "sentimental" ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[HellArise]  My Outrage (instrumental).&lt;br /&gt;[Markus Zusak] &lt;em&gt;The Girl Who Stole Books&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2374803427700743312?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2374803427700743312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2374803427700743312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html#2374803427700743312' title='Definitive.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7018138014193753846</id><published>2010-03-07T11:09:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T11:12:20.032-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the day after yesterday.</title><content type='html'>Let's see today if we can &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; change our future from now on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Sirenia] The Other Side.&lt;br /&gt;[Stephenie Meyer] Breaking Dawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7018138014193753846?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7018138014193753846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7018138014193753846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html#7018138014193753846' title='Today is the day after yesterday.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3313338700096624758</id><published>2010-02-23T20:39:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T20:43:08.614-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Compassionate, Emotional &amp; Protective.</title><content type='html'>Deeply intuitive and sentimental, you can be one of the most challenging people to get to know. Emotion runs strong for you, and when it comes to family and home, nothing is more important. Sympathetic and empathetic, you are greatly attuned to those around you. Devotion is the keyword for you, making you a wonderfully sensitive person to be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorable Colors:&lt;/span&gt; White, Silver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Key Body Part:&lt;/span&gt; Stomach, Breasts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lucky Gem:&lt;/span&gt; Pearls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Strengths:&lt;/span&gt; Compassion, emotional sensitivity, fiercely protective of loved ones, tenacity. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weaknesses:&lt;/span&gt; Manipulative, indirect conflict, clinging to the past, insecure, packrat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charismatic marks:&lt;/span&gt; Medium build, round face, prominent breasts, a tendency to take charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Likes:&lt;/span&gt; Relaxing near or in water, art, home-based hobbies, a good meal with friends, helping loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dislikes:&lt;/span&gt; Strangers, revealing of personal life, any criticism of Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best environment: &lt;/span&gt;You will always be most comfortable at home, close to family, familiar things, and dear friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some quiz I did on the net. Am I like this?&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I'm alive! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] Beast of man.&lt;br /&gt;[That '70s Show] 1st Season - Ep.10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3313338700096624758?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3313338700096624758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3313338700096624758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html#3313338700096624758' title='Compassionate, Emotional &amp; Protective.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4707116032945981367</id><published>2009-12-09T10:33:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T10:57:42.767-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ending?</title><content type='html'>The year is ending. Another one.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm so desperated that I dunno if I stay very happy 'coz of this or if I stay stressed 'coz I still have two weeks of work and problems to solve yet. I just can't stay neutral and, when I try to balance the stuff, I get kinda bipolar. Yeah, like I'm great in the morning and so bad at lunchtime, fine again in the afternoon, kinda sad at night, etc.&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying hard to hang on. Really hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Agua de Annique] Wonder.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists Of Avalon (finishing!!!).&lt;br /&gt;[Tom &amp;amp; Jerry] Chuck Jones Versions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4707116032945981367?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4707116032945981367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4707116032945981367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html#4707116032945981367' title='Ending?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6129221822093916910</id><published>2009-11-10T21:14:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T21:53:11.904-02:00</updated><title type='text'>EX.</title><content type='html'>Exausted. That's me today.&lt;br /&gt;But as I said some days ago, I'm enjoying a piece of happiness, a little one, and kinda selfish.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I really like to be by myself: I feel comfortable being alone with my thoughts and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Changing subjects, I'm starting to think the gym is finally making some results. I'll focus more after next week - 'coz next week will be a full week: work, events, concerts - and let's see what will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Agua de Annique] I Want.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists Of Avalon.&lt;br /&gt;[Alias] Season 5 - Episode 11.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6129221822093916910?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6129221822093916910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6129221822093916910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html#6129221822093916910' title='EX.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6560394625137832474</id><published>2009-11-03T00:44:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T00:48:48.969-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Screwed but happy.</title><content type='html'>'Coz I'm a living breathing contradiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Threshold] Choices.&lt;br /&gt;[Kerrelyn Sparks] Forbidden Nights with a Vampire.&lt;br /&gt;[Alias] Season 5 - Episode 4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6560394625137832474?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6560394625137832474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6560394625137832474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html#6560394625137832474' title='Screwed but happy.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6094834256922909076</id><published>2009-10-18T03:14:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T03:17:41.190-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Now. And forever?</title><content type='html'>Cream crackers, a can of beer and me, with myself, in my room now.&lt;br /&gt;Is it gonna change someday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ALIAS] 4th Season - Ep. 21: Search and Rescue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6094834256922909076?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6094834256922909076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6094834256922909076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html#6094834256922909076' title='Now. And forever?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3133042496912773578</id><published>2009-10-09T23:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T23:57:57.126-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And so you disappear...</title><content type='html'>I should be happy, but I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;And I keep asking why I can't be happy if things are just fitting in place? It should be the normal reaction. So, I just don't get it, this desperate will to cry in a corner, alone. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;Does anybody shoot me, please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] The Rain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3133042496912773578?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3133042496912773578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3133042496912773578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html#3133042496912773578' title='And so you disappear...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8484100255838340173</id><published>2009-10-02T19:26:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T23:00:23.382-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking back my soul.</title><content type='html'>It was one week since my last post... I'm still tired, VERY tired. But even without my "golden moments" of inspiration, things seem to be just fitting in place.&lt;br /&gt;Well, the news: &lt;br /&gt;- my band will play in a bar next week &lt;br /&gt;- I've started the gym today&lt;br /&gt;Two little things that are making me smile in the middle of this damned turbulence.&lt;br /&gt;Let's see for how long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Milk, toast and honey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8484100255838340173?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8484100255838340173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8484100255838340173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html#8484100255838340173' title='Taking back my soul.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2114324827076694615</id><published>2009-09-23T18:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T18:22:28.253-03:00</updated><title type='text'>By the way...</title><content type='html'>...I'm tired, stressed and kinda depressed.&lt;br /&gt;I'm fighting against it all, but it's very hard in some occasions. &lt;br /&gt;And I really know that's not true, but sometimes I do feel like I'm alone here. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] It's all over but the crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2114324827076694615?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2114324827076694615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2114324827076694615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html#2114324827076694615' title='By the way...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-353894371684721712</id><published>2009-09-14T18:13:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T19:20:47.552-03:00</updated><title type='text'>How come?</title><content type='html'>Even to write here to complain about things, I'm without time.&lt;br /&gt;And, as usual, I always "come back" when things are going wrong... The only difference now is that I'll not write about it. It's just to leave a sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] The Rain.&lt;br /&gt;[Stephenie Meyer] Eclipse.&lt;br /&gt;[Alias] Season 4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-353894371684721712?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/353894371684721712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/353894371684721712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html#353894371684721712' title='How come?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5764949478875555766</id><published>2009-07-19T14:47:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T22:55:13.872-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Whathahell?!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>What a weekend! Geez...&lt;br /&gt;Well, I know I'm not being honest at all, but I'm definitely in the exactly middle of something, with a very huge doubt. I dunno... I think in the end I'll loose both, what will not be unfair. But I just can't choose, simply pick one and go 'coz I'm not being bitchy: my world is really divided into two parts.&lt;br /&gt;I will let it flow. Even knowing how bad it can end. I'll let it flow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Xandria] Eversleeping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5764949478875555766?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5764949478875555766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5764949478875555766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html#5764949478875555766' title='Whathahell?!!!!!!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3177964090305541644</id><published>2009-07-13T12:36:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T13:08:56.611-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange ways.</title><content type='html'>I'm walking on different paths, at the same time. 'Coz I'm doing things in other ways. And, naturally, I'm feeling things differently too. Is it scaring me? Oh, hell yeah. I'm truly scared. Everything new scares us, right? But I'm a real "living breathing contradiction", 'coz I don't feel so misplaced as I used to feel before. So, as one of my metal divas sings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Let it flow!&lt;br /&gt;Its endless beauty will evoke&lt;br /&gt;A timeless sequence we all share&lt;br /&gt;We cannot break through nor control&lt;br /&gt;But to feel its true soul, dare to concede and to connect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[After Forever] Evoke.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Z. Bradley] The Mists of Avalon.&lt;br /&gt;[The Notebook] movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3177964090305541644?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3177964090305541644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3177964090305541644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html#3177964090305541644' title='Strange ways.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1152340990037665380</id><published>2009-07-08T18:33:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T18:46:20.561-03:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brute</title><content type='html'>Just to say I've created one: &lt;a href="http://redviolent.mybrute.com"&gt;http://redviolent.mybrute.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to say there were two good thing this week: breakfast at Starbucks at 8am and my band's rehearsal. Both yesterday. I know this is the third day of the week yet, but I dunno... I don't expect something as good as these things for a bunch of days. I hope I'm wrong. Pretty wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kreator] Violent Revolution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1152340990037665380?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1152340990037665380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1152340990037665380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html#1152340990037665380' title='My Brute'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7310778634770607516</id><published>2009-06-27T19:42:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T20:04:30.277-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Halfway through the night...</title><content type='html'>... I wake up in a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm here just to tell my heart is somewhere between heaven and hell.&lt;br /&gt;Messed choices, tens of doubts&lt;br /&gt;What's right and what's wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Lost in my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;I dunno where to run and I wanna hide too. Yeah, I do.&lt;br /&gt;Do I break the rules? Do I explode the normal?&lt;br /&gt;Do I say "fuck off" and burn down the house?&lt;br /&gt;Should I choose security, a little chance to fall&lt;br /&gt;Or take big risks in front of you all?&lt;br /&gt;Do I care for judgment? I don't know for true.&lt;br /&gt;Will I cramp my style? So, what the hell to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] I wish I could fly.&lt;br /&gt;[Oscar Wilde] The Canterville Ghost.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 4 - Last episode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7310778634770607516?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7310778634770607516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7310778634770607516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html#7310778634770607516' title='Halfway through the night...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6622976864104696293</id><published>2009-06-16T19:29:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T19:33:31.171-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Interpreting My Dreams.</title><content type='html'>*taking the dust off*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having weird dreams. Very weird ones.&lt;br /&gt;To relax, I've tried this quiz. And, like always, the results are obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;You are An Anxious Dreamer:&lt;/span&gt; Fear and anxiety are the most commonly expressed emotions in dreams. Fear, anger, and sadness occur twice as often as pleasant emotions. It is important to note that the feelings we experience in dreams are not symbols of something else but are reflections of our real feelings. Such feelings may have been repressed during the day and as a result are coming out in your dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Black Label Society] Graveyard Disciples.&lt;br /&gt;[Oscar Wilde] The Canterville Ghost.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 4 - Episode 8.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6622976864104696293?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6622976864104696293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6622976864104696293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html#6622976864104696293' title='Interpreting My Dreams.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2341869924812784064</id><published>2009-05-28T19:25:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T19:29:45.640-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Em bom "brasileiro".</title><content type='html'>Quanto filha da puta tem nessa terra dos infernos...&lt;br /&gt;É por isso que esse país de trogloditas não vai pra frente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Not my idea.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Z. Bradley] The Mists of Avalon.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 3 - Ep 2.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2341869924812784064?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2341869924812784064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2341869924812784064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html#2341869924812784064' title='Em bom &quot;brasileiro&quot;.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4249196617983627974</id><published>2009-05-25T12:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T12:28:56.891-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hangover.</title><content type='html'>And my head is exploding! &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Spice Girls] Stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4249196617983627974?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4249196617983627974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4249196617983627974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html#4249196617983627974' title='Hangover.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6170072923828327557</id><published>2009-05-11T20:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T20:23:06.829-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A glance of happiness.</title><content type='html'>Our first rehearsal.&lt;br /&gt;It was good, funny and I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;And I'll try to be like that this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ozzy] Perry Mason.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 2 - Ep 12.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6170072923828327557?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6170072923828327557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6170072923828327557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html#6170072923828327557' title='A glance of happiness.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5047432511895658478</id><published>2009-05-04T23:07:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T23:12:37.326-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A single word to try to express less than a quarter of my true feelings after that concert.</title><content type='html'>FUCKINTRUHOLYHELGREATMARVELOAWSOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] We Will Rise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5047432511895658478?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5047432511895658478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5047432511895658478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html#5047432511895658478' title='A single word to try to express less than a quarter of my true feelings after that concert.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-158408406132872698</id><published>2009-04-30T19:50:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T19:59:17.259-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hands tied.</title><content type='html'>Well, tendinitis sux. Hoping to recover 90% until Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty happy today too, but at the same time I'm so damn needy. I'd like a hug for today in the menu... Blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Metallica] The Unforgiven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-158408406132872698?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/158408406132872698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/158408406132872698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#158408406132872698' title='Hands tied.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4909107789627140260</id><published>2009-04-29T21:51:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T21:56:43.923-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Uaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!</title><content type='html'>I feel like screaming. And screaming loud as hell.&lt;br /&gt;*one of my 1000 seconds of euphoria today*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] Ravenous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4909107789627140260?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4909107789627140260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4909107789627140260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#4909107789627140260' title='Uaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5415698648015238422</id><published>2009-04-25T19:58:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T20:24:51.773-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, then.</title><content type='html'>Well, it's kinda freaking me out. In a good way, I think, if it's possible. Just like I said this week, when someone asked my opinion about something: You've to believe. And I've said that without notice; it just slipped out and I didn't even have time to think. We're talking about me, so this is kinda weird, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rune reading from today - spread: The Well of Wyrd (6 runes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 1:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Quester&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This position represents the person at the heart of the question.  The position gives insight into current circumstances, situations and areas of concern.  The quester's immediate surroundings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Othala (inverted)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Property&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Othala represents ancestral property or personal posessions.  Two meanings are possible:  Heritage and core values are referenced, or physical assets and personal property.   A house or home.  Family.  Security.&lt;br /&gt;[ inverted meaning ]&lt;br /&gt;Poverty.  An inability to escape the past.  Family issues.  Disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 2:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Difficult Path&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The Difficult Path" position gives insights into those forces that oppose the "Quester" (position 1). What forces or individuals stand in the way? Or, what qualities are currently lacking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wunjo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Joy&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comfort, pleasure and the joy of living.  A fellowship with friends or family.  Harmony and prosperity.  Success comes through an understanding of what is truly important and valuing those things of real worth.  Combined efforts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Road Behind&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This position stretches behind the "Quester".  It is the background or past mental state that is crucial to the current position. What has gone before?  Where has the Quester been?  Who or what has had influence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uruz (inverted)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Physical Strength and Power&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uruz is the symbol of the wild ox: an individual of great strength and power, but without subtelty or refinement.  Uruz can also signify male sexual desire, and a desire to defend one's turf. Strength defeats weakness.&lt;br /&gt;[ inverted meaning ]&lt;br /&gt;Over possesiveness leads to loss and weakness. Strength is being expended in an inefficient manner. Sickness.  Personal weaknesses or flaws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 4:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Way to the Root&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This position indicates "Near Futures" and gives insight into immediate next steps. How does the present situation affect tomorrow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gebo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Gifts&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gift can be something that is received, or something given.  An exchange of some kind.  A generous action, or a partnership of giving and acquiring. Relationships and obligations are also referenced here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 5:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;A Calculated Step&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This position depicts mindsets and courses of action that will assist the Quester moving forward. Something must be cautiously remembered.  Moving forward, what should the Quester be mindful of&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Tiwaz (inverted)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Justice, Leadership&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiwaz represents the all judging sky.  Analysis and rational thought are represented here.  Legal matters may come to the fore, and issues of judgement and authority are referenced.&lt;br /&gt;[ inverted meaning ]&lt;br /&gt;An inability to judge effectively.  An inability to think clearly, or a tendency to over-analyze. Injustice. A failure to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 6:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;At the Great Well&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The final position gives insight into an overall energy which defines the Quester and his or her fate.  What is the outcome of this situation?  What will ultimately be its defining issue?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hagalaz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Hail&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wrath of the elements and the power of fundamental forces of nature overwhelm all else.  A confusion of elements and a display of temper and wrath.  A dispute that gives way to calm.  A test of will.  Crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Dark Moor] Miracles.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 1 - Ep 18.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5415698648015238422?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5415698648015238422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5415698648015238422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#5415698648015238422' title='Ok, then.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1115655957044802213</id><published>2009-04-24T20:23:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T21:00:03.162-03:00</updated><title type='text'>The secret of the Runes.</title><content type='html'>Some interesting stuff after a rune reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The position of Hope and Desires; indicates expectations and willings that you have related to the answer for you question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Inverted Thurisaz&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many times indicate the inability of recognize relationships with frustrating results. It advises you that if you don't eliminate old problems, they can return to harm you or mess with your life. It says that it's not a time to overreact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Position 10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The position of Result or Conclusion of you question. Remember the future is not predetermined. Read this rune in this position with a general ideas and as it's an indicator of path that you're in, but don't limit your interpretations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Hagalaz&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a first moment, symbolizes the chaos, destruction and disruption. It's possible that you can feel a sensation of delay to reach your aims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Vow (KROQ Acoustic).&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 1 - Ep 16.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1115655957044802213?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1115655957044802213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1115655957044802213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#1115655957044802213' title='The secret of the Runes.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8845772013623136352</id><published>2009-04-20T20:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T20:21:10.460-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinkative...</title><content type='html'>I just wonder and think and wonder...&lt;br /&gt;Adapting and quoting Anneke: "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Twenty-nine and I am hardly beginning to understand what this is all about...&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;And, in a parallel fine line, life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;No change, no pleasure, no jokes, no sex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;No choice, no morals, no ethics, no depth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No color, no fight, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;no freedom, no life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Profound creation, temptation is swept&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear knocking on my door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how it's possible&lt;br /&gt;That I just sit here in my room&lt;br /&gt;Watching some TV&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of nothing and nothing&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know how&lt;br /&gt;Does anybody have the nerve&lt;br /&gt;To come to my door&lt;br /&gt;And sell the world of God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I wonder what's the remedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can move on with my life&lt;br /&gt;Before you people are through&lt;br /&gt;With the extinction of the universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You save the world from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I wonder who will be left over...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Anneke Van Giersbergen] Witnesses.&lt;br /&gt;[Ghost Whisperer] Season 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8845772013623136352?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8845772013623136352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8845772013623136352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#8845772013623136352' title='Thinkative...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-879574336210105782</id><published>2009-04-14T00:12:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T00:21:34.376-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Contradição?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;E se eu fizesse coisas que não disse &lt;br /&gt;E se dissesse frases que não penso &lt;br /&gt;E se quisesse o que não faço &lt;br /&gt;Sem cair em contradição &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ficasse em pé ao invés de cair no chão &lt;br /&gt;Quando por um querer qualquer &lt;br /&gt;Me comprometesse &lt;br /&gt;A cruzar a rua na contramão &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Eu não vou dizer que sim &lt;br /&gt;Nem vou fingir que não &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se lamentasse perdas que não tive &lt;br /&gt;E se inventasse fatos que não vi &lt;br /&gt;E se negasse o que existe &lt;br /&gt;Sem cair em contradição &lt;br /&gt;Ainda assim eu não teria um minuto de silêncio &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Eu não vou dizer que sim &lt;br /&gt;Nem vou fingir que não &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, eu não vou me torturar &lt;br /&gt;Mantendo culpas &lt;br /&gt;Os medos vão passar &lt;br /&gt;Vão confirmar a mentira que contei &lt;br /&gt;Pra mim... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Eu não vou dizer que sim &lt;br /&gt;Nem vou fingir que não &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, eu não vou me torturar &lt;br /&gt;Mantendo culpas &lt;br /&gt;Segredos tem seu lugar&lt;br /&gt;Vão confirmar a mentira que contei &lt;br /&gt;Pra mim... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, eu não vou me preocupar &lt;br /&gt;Não tenho mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Os medos vão passar&lt;br /&gt;Vão confirmar a mentira que contei&lt;br /&gt;Vão confirmar a mentira que contei &lt;br /&gt;Vão confirmar a mentira que contei  &lt;br /&gt;Pra mim... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Cris Braun] Contradição.&lt;br /&gt;[Speak] (Drama - 2004).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-879574336210105782?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/879574336210105782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/879574336210105782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html#879574336210105782' title='Contradição?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4805224200506081316</id><published>2009-03-24T20:53:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T21:01:03.546-03:00</updated><title type='text'>And so you disappear...</title><content type='html'>Where's everyone when you just need a "hi" in the middle of the day?&lt;br /&gt;Quoting "Matrix", the movie, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Welcome to the Real World (...) Remember there is no sp&lt;/span&gt;oon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SclzdNMXNRI/AAAAAAAAAEk/c35TlrbK-IA/s1600-h/10rg101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 65px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SclzdNMXNRI/AAAAAAAAAEk/c35TlrbK-IA/s200/10rg101.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316907780682495250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Image from http://www.mediamuffin.com/)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;[Jewel] Fragile Heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4805224200506081316?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4805224200506081316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4805224200506081316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html#4805224200506081316' title='And so you disappear...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SclzdNMXNRI/AAAAAAAAAEk/c35TlrbK-IA/s72-c/10rg101.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4308686075106184830</id><published>2009-03-16T21:43:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T21:51:10.080-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Whataweekend!</title><content type='html'>I've been "kicked", my 2-hour Spanish class turned into 1-hour class and I've spent my Friday night/Saturday in an ER, agonizing in pain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] Burning Angel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4308686075106184830?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4308686075106184830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4308686075106184830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html#4308686075106184830' title='Whataweekend!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3182853333770549253</id><published>2009-03-10T21:41:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T22:03:25.946-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Em bom português, pra todo mundo entender e pra eu não esquecer:&lt;br /&gt;Levei um pé hoje. E isso dói. Demais.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3182853333770549253?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3182853333770549253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3182853333770549253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html#3182853333770549253' title=''/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3752467809723568687</id><published>2009-02-05T02:05:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T02:43:00.901-02:00</updated><title type='text'>No two ways about it.</title><content type='html'>I'm sick of "friends with expiration date". And I don't mean maybe. I'm at the end of my tether.&lt;br /&gt;So, I think it's time to shove off. &lt;br /&gt;You can find me somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Better Off On Her Own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3752467809723568687?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3752467809723568687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3752467809723568687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#3752467809723568687' title='No two ways about it.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8495420046441630991</id><published>2009-02-03T23:25:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T23:36:32.165-02:00</updated><title type='text'>2 long days.</title><content type='html'>These next days will just be like this.&lt;br /&gt;I hate when I can do nothing but wait. I really hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Stupid girl.&lt;br /&gt;[Law &amp; order - SVU] 10th Season - Episiode 9: PTSD.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8495420046441630991?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8495420046441630991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8495420046441630991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#8495420046441630991' title='2 long days.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7305988673024325504</id><published>2009-02-01T20:53:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T20:55:16.696-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Panic.</title><content type='html'>That's the word.&lt;br /&gt;And why am I like this?&lt;br /&gt;Geez..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Stupid girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7305988673024325504?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7305988673024325504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7305988673024325504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html#7305988673024325504' title='Panic.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1377432631992725846</id><published>2009-01-27T10:32:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:33:16.193-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Things don't have to be this way.</title><content type='html'>Fix me now&lt;br /&gt;I wish you would&lt;br /&gt;Bring me back to life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Fix me now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1377432631992725846?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1377432631992725846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1377432631992725846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#1377432631992725846' title='Things don&apos;t have to be this way.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6381628168801439145</id><published>2009-01-24T10:28:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:33:51.771-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a note.</title><content type='html'>Just 'coz I forgot to put it in the last post: we're ok right now.&lt;br /&gt;I think we can be fine. It's just let the things go with the flow, taking their time, 'coz the feeling is true.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;[The Corrs] Runaway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6381628168801439145?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6381628168801439145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6381628168801439145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#6381628168801439145' title='Just a note.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-527351469848841913</id><published>2009-01-23T01:22:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:33:41.269-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the real world.</title><content type='html'>My schedule is weird right now. I've started in that vacation course. And I'm writing everything (when I have time) in the palmtop. &lt;br /&gt;As you see, I don't have much time. And I have a bad memory, so I always forget to update it here. But, to be true, I don't have many thing to say...&lt;br /&gt;*Tired*&lt;br /&gt;[Chandeen] Ginger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-527351469848841913?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/527351469848841913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/527351469848841913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#527351469848841913' title='Out of the real world.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2153176546599241014</id><published>2009-01-21T03:00:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:33:27.749-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Crisis.</title><content type='html'>Hard days, these last days.&lt;br /&gt;We had our first argument this weekend. Let's see what will happen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Blackmore's Night] Ghost of a Rose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2153176546599241014?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2153176546599241014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2153176546599241014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#2153176546599241014' title='Crisis.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7400977764234689915</id><published>2009-01-15T11:42:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T11:44:51.280-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Kinda late, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's just to say: I'm in love and I'm lovin' it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Corrs] Runaway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7400977764234689915?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7400977764234689915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7400977764234689915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#7400977764234689915' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7697227754274397293</id><published>2008-12-21T21:49:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T21:53:38.300-02:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Hearts.</title><content type='html'>You make me invisible&lt;br /&gt;Light the sky and you make my day&lt;br /&gt;And I feel so wonderful&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, don't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm deep in the dark of you&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I never saw the sun&lt;br /&gt;Should I shout for a rescue?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, don't let go&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, don't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts are beating together&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;Is this forever and ever?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts are beating together&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;Is this forever and ever?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks good in the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;Well hold on 'coz I'm coming up for air&lt;br /&gt;And I can't even see up here&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, don't let go&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, oh, don't let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts are beating together&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;Is this forever and ever?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts are beating together&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;Is this forever and ever?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts are beating together&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;Is this forever and ever?&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love, woo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hearts oh oh oh oh oh oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kylie Minogue] 2 Hearts.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists of Avalon.&lt;br /&gt;[Terminator - The Sarah Connor Chronicles] S02 - Ep12.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7697227754274397293?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7697227754274397293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7697227754274397293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html#7697227754274397293' title='2 Hearts.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2765258449659679411</id><published>2008-12-17T17:26:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T17:36:47.229-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad days.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a bad day, followed by today, a worse day.&lt;br /&gt;I went out on my own and now I'm back and more depressed. Well, not more, but it didn't help anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like when the year is ending. And I don't like when all my plans go wrong at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I'll go to bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Medication.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists of Avalon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2765258449659679411?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2765258449659679411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2765258449659679411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html#2765258449659679411' title='Bad days.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1793844811272899180</id><published>2008-12-15T09:42:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T17:25:58.446-02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chocolate Incident.</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm the one. 'Coz I always overstep myself.&lt;br /&gt;What happened? Here we go:&lt;br /&gt;I went out on Saturday, at night, to go to a birthday party of my friend's friend. I've danced all night, have few drinks and had so much fun. Really a few drinks and just one of them alcoholic: a Smirnoff Ice. And it was like this 'coz on Friday I got really bad from the sinusitis, I've missed my friend's happy hour and I almost got late for my classes on Saturday. Well, back to the party: I went there about 11:45pm on Saturday and I came home at 7:40am on Sunday. So, I was REALLY tired. And it was starting another crisis 'coz I was obviously exposed to smokes.&lt;br /&gt;I arrived home, got a box of chocolate (Alpino) which was on the table, a bottleof H2O and I went to my room. I took of my clothes, ate one chocolate and got my medicine. Then I got another chocolate to eat and I fell down. I took a look and I didn't find it, so I thought: "It's on the floor. Tomorrow I look for it." and I took another one to eat. So, I finally laid down to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;About 12 and something, I woke up and the first thought was "Hm... something's smelling good...". When I raised my hand to rub my eyes, I just saw a brown thing all over my hand and on some parts of my arm. My bed was sweet and brown.&lt;br /&gt;And that was my first chocolate bath... Now you can laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Dumb.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists of Avalon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1793844811272899180?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1793844811272899180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1793844811272899180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html#1793844811272899180' title='The Chocolate Incident.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-369334101950385407</id><published>2008-12-11T04:28:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T04:31:45.977-02:00</updated><title type='text'>'Coz now I know...</title><content type='html'>So many nights I sat here waiting&lt;br /&gt;There were times I couldnt go on&lt;br /&gt;Still my heart was anticipating&lt;br /&gt;It made me be strong&lt;br /&gt;Made me hold on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were some calling me crazy&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been accused of being naïve&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t need no one to save me&lt;br /&gt;Cause I got you, you make me believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll Be There in the night when you need me&lt;br /&gt;Just call my name&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be there close your eyes and you’ll see me&lt;br /&gt;Just Call My Name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I don’t need to know the answers&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to understand&lt;br /&gt;We were born to take the chances&lt;br /&gt;I know the truth when you hold my hand…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had waited a lifetime lost on the open sea&lt;br /&gt;Praying for an angel to be sent to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the night don’t last forever&lt;br /&gt;Every moment is a song&lt;br /&gt;Cause we face the night together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Something so right could never be wrong &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Blackmore's Night] Just Call My Name (I'll be there).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-369334101950385407?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/369334101950385407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/369334101950385407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html#369334101950385407' title='&apos;Coz now I know...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1543056222885182939</id><published>2008-11-30T11:20:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T12:04:22.687-02:00</updated><title type='text'>It must be...</title><content type='html'>Never a Saturday lasted so long like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;And no, I didn't have the opportunity to confirm or not what's happening to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm going to translate a song to English, to try to figure out my own feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;If it wasn't love, there wouldn't be plans&lt;br /&gt;Like a wave it'd break soon&lt;br /&gt;If it was a moment, it wouldn't make damages,&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't be on the ground, no, no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn't love, it wouldn't cause fear&lt;br /&gt;Like a toy it would bore me soon&lt;br /&gt;If it was an illusion I wouldn't miss that much&lt;br /&gt;And I wouldn't cry on the floor, then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be love, it must be, then&lt;br /&gt;It must be love, it must be, love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn't love, it wouldn't last so much&lt;br /&gt;The flame of a warm water bath&lt;br /&gt;If it was past it wouldn't pass current&lt;br /&gt;And I wouldn't call love, I wouldn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be love, it must be, then&lt;br /&gt;It must be love, it must be, love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess the song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1543056222885182939?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1543056222885182939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1543056222885182939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#1543056222885182939' title='It must be...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3670929136767236428</id><published>2008-11-26T18:19:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T18:34:35.643-02:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry...</title><content type='html'>Yes. You.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I couldn't tell you everything yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;But I'm kinda lost about my situation and, goddess, how hard is to say something about it. I'm so and so confused... I just wanna tell you I didn't lie. I just left these specific things aside.&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I can say right now is that I'm feeling strange. But I'm feeling strangely fine too. I dunno if it's right or wrong, I dunno... But I can't believe my heart could be so wrong after all the things I've passed through in this life.&lt;br /&gt;I'll "check this out" this weekend, to see what happens, to see if these feelings are really true. Well, whatever happens, I'll tell you someday. I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] You Look So Fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3670929136767236428?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3670929136767236428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3670929136767236428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#3670929136767236428' title='I&apos;m sorry...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1435652772561621322</id><published>2008-11-24T21:28:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T18:19:54.431-02:00</updated><title type='text'>It's hard to handle.</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel I cannot handle what's going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Shirley Manson] Samson &amp; Delilah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1435652772561621322?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1435652772561621322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1435652772561621322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#1435652772561621322' title='It&apos;s hard to handle.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-207815031757035343</id><published>2008-11-15T18:12:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T18:18:50.192-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Something kinda funny.</title><content type='html'>Something happened yesterday. To be true, again.&lt;br /&gt;It could be nothing at all. But I'm really really messed up, head over heels.&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop thinking and, what makes me feel scared, I can't stop feeling something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've got something kinda funny goin' on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kylie Minogue] 2 hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-207815031757035343?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/207815031757035343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/207815031757035343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#207815031757035343' title='Something kinda funny.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3597160967460302423</id><published>2008-10-31T18:09:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T18:25:45.077-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Completely lost is enough?</title><content type='html'>I think I've never felt so lost in my life than today.&lt;br /&gt;I felt completely groundless, I tried to find to some place to go but I couldn't think clearly, I just couldn't figure out the most simple thing I was presented to today. I'm feeling desperate and all my bravery has disappeared. The only thing left right here, right now is a kind of anguish.&lt;br /&gt;I don't give a fuck if somebody believe it or not, but I think something bad is gonna happen...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3597160967460302423?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3597160967460302423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3597160967460302423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#3597160967460302423' title='Completely lost is enough?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-7782406392863773213</id><published>2008-10-29T12:10:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T12:31:32.193-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Stepping into a new territory.</title><content type='html'>Can I copy myself? Well, that's what I'm doing right now. :P&lt;br /&gt;For the times they are a-changin'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;oh it's healing - bang bang bang&lt;br /&gt;i can hear your cannons call&lt;br /&gt;you've been aiming at my land&lt;br /&gt;your hungry hammer is falling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an angel bored like hell&lt;br /&gt;and you're a devil meaning well&lt;br /&gt;you steal my lines and you strike me dumb&lt;br /&gt;come raise your flag upon me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;if you win me I'm forever - oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I've been needing&lt;br /&gt;and all this peace has been deceiving&lt;br /&gt;I like the sweet life and the silence&lt;br /&gt;but it's the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come and conquer and drop your bombs&lt;br /&gt;cross my borders and kill the calm&lt;br /&gt;bear your fangs and burn my wings&lt;br /&gt;I hear bullets singing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;if you win me I'm forever - oh yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I've been needing&lt;br /&gt;and all this peace has been deceiving&lt;br /&gt;I need some wind to get me sailing&lt;br /&gt;so it's the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you fill my heart, you keep me breathing&lt;br /&gt;'cause you're the storm that I believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if you want me I'm your country&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SQhzkTgBUaI/AAAAAAAAAC8/K1Ul4qlUSzI/s1600-h/storm1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 187px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SQhzkTgBUaI/AAAAAAAAAC8/K1Ul4qlUSzI/s200/storm1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262583232129487266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Cardigans] You're the storm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-7782406392863773213?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7782406392863773213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/7782406392863773213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#7782406392863773213' title='Stepping into a new territory.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SQhzkTgBUaI/AAAAAAAAAC8/K1Ul4qlUSzI/s72-c/storm1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3370692122215394475</id><published>2008-10-12T16:25:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:11:55.162-02:00</updated><title type='text'>New moon, different day.</title><content type='html'>I'm lost and I'm tired. &lt;br /&gt;It's time to do the next move, to try something different. Time to close my ears, open my eyes and move myself; follow my body and my wishes. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'll try something different and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the waterside&lt;br /&gt;my cold feet are numb&lt;br /&gt;and I follow my dream&lt;br /&gt;I want to cross&lt;br /&gt;I want to get inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ghiribizzo.net/garbage/uploaded_images/shirl_tw-768909.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://ghiribizzo.net/garbage/uploaded_images/shirl_tw-768907.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Gathering] New moon, different day.&lt;br /&gt;[Marion Zimmer Bradley] The Mists of Avalon (Full).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3370692122215394475?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3370692122215394475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3370692122215394475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#3370692122215394475' title='New moon, different day.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4587284193396741763</id><published>2008-10-10T12:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T12:13:17.678-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the day.</title><content type='html'>“Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Oscar Wilde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Apocalyptica] S.O.S. (Anything but Love).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4587284193396741763?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4587284193396741763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4587284193396741763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#4587284193396741763' title='Quote of the day.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2424999092484987498</id><published>2008-10-08T00:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T00:13:56.998-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it fade away.</title><content type='html'>Nothing substantial to write. Well, between us, I was never so substantial, wasn't I? Btw, just to register here that I'm completely in love by this song, right here, right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;See the mirror in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;See the truth behind your lies&lt;br /&gt;Your lies are haunting me&lt;br /&gt;See the reason in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Giving answer to the why:&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are haunting me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling in &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;in love, in love&lt;br /&gt;Falling in &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;your love, your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the mirror in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;see the truth behind your lies&lt;br /&gt;Your lies are haunting me&lt;br /&gt;see the reason in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Giving answer to the why:&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are haunting me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling in &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;in love, in love&lt;br /&gt;Falling in &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;your love, your love&lt;br /&gt;in love in love in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you see it?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you feel?&lt;br /&gt;In &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;each time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you feel it?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you see it?&lt;br /&gt;In &amp; out of love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep keep runnin'&lt;br /&gt;I keep keep fallin'&lt;br /&gt;Let it fade away.&lt;br /&gt;[x3]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Away away away away&lt;br /&gt;Oh Let it fade away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Armin van Buuren ft Sharon den Adel] In and Out of Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2424999092484987498?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2424999092484987498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2424999092484987498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#2424999092484987498' title='Let it fade away.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2890996284789308524</id><published>2008-10-05T05:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T05:51:47.521-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Everytime it rains.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Look! Here comes the very first drop...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's raining outside. A pouring rain.&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm back. Back to my city, back to my house and to my little corner.&lt;br /&gt;Tons of news, but nothing to say right here, right now.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna say I like the rain. 'Coz every time it rains I get wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ace of Base] Everytime it rains.&lt;br /&gt;[Tolkien] Tree and Leaf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2890996284789308524?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2890996284789308524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2890996284789308524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#2890996284789308524' title='Everytime it rains.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6780529098960307315</id><published>2008-09-09T22:46:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T07:01:43.684-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Más Letras de Canciónes...</title><content type='html'>Los coches se arrastran dejando detrás un olor&lt;br /&gt;que ahoga a turistas sin alma bebiendo en sus vasos de ron.&lt;br /&gt;Un niño pregunta si la libertad es así&lt;br /&gt;y suena una vieja habanera que le cuenta un cuento sin fin.&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;Dime niña de ojos tristes,&lt;br /&gt;recuerdas aquel viejo barco que tanto quisiste,&lt;br /&gt;donde tú y el mar, hablabais de libertad,&lt;br /&gt;de una escalera a la luna quizá,&lt;br /&gt;de un mundo que no deje nunca de hacernos soñar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[La Oreja de Van Gogh] Un Mundo Mejor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6780529098960307315?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6780529098960307315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6780529098960307315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#6780529098960307315' title='Más Letras de Canciónes...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1103612936620480989</id><published>2008-09-07T14:53:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T14:59:19.716-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Yipy!</title><content type='html'>[let's imagine here's a picture of my toe]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm deliciously happy today. Why shouldn't I be happy? &lt;br /&gt;I was born to be happy and maybe it was written in the stars.&lt;br /&gt;Can you see it?! No?!! What a shame!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*internal* Boy, I told ya I'll do it. Hahahaha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[DVD] Rise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1103612936620480989?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1103612936620480989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1103612936620480989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#1103612936620480989' title='Yipy!'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2428308682506022932</id><published>2008-09-05T08:29:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T08:33:44.025-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Jag har ett hjärta utan hem.</title><content type='html'>Well, that language from the past post was Swedish. The structures of Swedish are a little bit different from English but if you put in an English-Swedish translator, it'll give you a good match, with some meaning and just a few errors.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I write in Swedish ('coz I'm trying to learn by myself yet), I write first in English. So, if you really wanna know what I've written, you can use Google Language Tools &gt; Translator and you'll have an idea.&lt;br /&gt;Now, a very good song. In Swedish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hon har ett hjärta utan hem&lt;br /&gt;Hon verkar ensam och komplicerad&lt;br /&gt;Varenda morron blir jag passerad&lt;br /&gt;Hon står i bussen ointresserad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Åhå åhå&lt;br /&gt;Hon har ett hjärta utan hem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Som stål på ytan men mjuk som lera&lt;br /&gt;Jag skulle vilja ge nåt mera&lt;br /&gt;En kyss så att hon börjar leva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Åhå åhå&lt;br /&gt;Hon har ett hjärta utan hem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hon kanske förlorat nån gång&lt;br /&gt;Nåt kanske slagits itu&lt;br /&gt;Hon vill inte komma tillbaks&lt;br /&gt;Eller vad tror du?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hej hej hej&lt;br /&gt;La na ra na na la na na na na&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Åhå åhå&lt;br /&gt;Hon har ett hjärta utan hem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Det bränner till när jag är nära&lt;br /&gt;Och jag blir ny som en nymånskära&lt;br /&gt;Men hennes sorg är tung att bära&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Åhå åhå&lt;br /&gt;Hon har ett hjärta utan hem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Gyllene Tider] Hjärta utan hem.&lt;br /&gt;[Agatha Christie] Triangle at Rhodes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2428308682506022932?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2428308682506022932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2428308682506022932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#2428308682506022932' title='Jag har ett hjärta utan hem.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2804702653493794949</id><published>2008-09-03T18:58:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T18:58:56.717-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tappade.</title><content type='html'>Mycket förlorat.&lt;br /&gt;Ibland vill jag gråta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Elis] Ballade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2804702653493794949?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2804702653493794949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2804702653493794949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#2804702653493794949' title='Tappade.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-111451934705301249</id><published>2008-09-02T19:01:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T19:05:51.237-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe my chord of life.</title><content type='html'>I'm not creative this week. All I can see is a big white wall, all in blank.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've played with the title of this post, the band and the music. It was my maximum glory for today. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I gotta go to that place where they store worn out things&lt;br /&gt;What's that name?&lt;br /&gt;By the time she gets home&lt;br /&gt;I will be here in a phone&lt;br /&gt;booth making long distance calls&lt;br /&gt;to every number I make up&lt;br /&gt;The chord of life has got my anxious heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the heavy hand of time&lt;br /&gt;making gentle massage on my shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Looking at my life from a cloud&lt;br /&gt;You see&lt;br /&gt;I've got to be proud&lt;br /&gt;But still I'm fixed to the ground&lt;br /&gt;and everywhere I look around&lt;br /&gt;It feels as if we are all too shy to look up and see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a lamb in the snow&lt;br /&gt;Still don't know where to go&lt;br /&gt;It's a wide wild world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how it all is so messed up&lt;br /&gt;We seem to be undressed up&lt;br /&gt;We run around in the dark&lt;br /&gt;and listen to the radio in search of aliens&lt;br /&gt;and lost souls like me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the heavy hand of time&lt;br /&gt;making a gentle massage on my shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Looking at my life from a cloud&lt;br /&gt;You see&lt;br /&gt;I've got to be proud&lt;br /&gt;But still I'm fixed to the ground&lt;br /&gt;and everywhere I look around&lt;br /&gt;It feels as if we are all too shy to look up and see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Maybees] Chord of Life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-111451934705301249?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/111451934705301249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/111451934705301249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#111451934705301249' title='Maybe my chord of life.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2515195553084152425</id><published>2008-09-01T18:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T18:40:38.442-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Home.</title><content type='html'>My head is full of voices&lt;br /&gt;And my house is full of lies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;[chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is home, home&lt;br /&gt;And this is home, home&lt;br /&gt;This is home &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Sheryl Crow] Home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2515195553084152425?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2515195553084152425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2515195553084152425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#2515195553084152425' title='Home.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-5901222564368436016</id><published>2008-08-28T07:35:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T19:55:39.765-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday &amp; Today.</title><content type='html'>I can't complain anymore. I think one of my deepest wishes was, in a certain way, realized. I'm not gonna tell which one, I'm not gonna thanx or regret. What's done is done. The only thing I can say: I feel nothing. Nothing at all. I'm not shocked, I'm not sad, I'm not happy, I'm not angry, I'm not regretting a past word. I'm not even worried and, rationally speaking, I should be.&lt;br /&gt;Is it instinct?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Arch Enemy] Instinct.&lt;br /&gt;[Agatha Christie] The Incredible Theft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-5901222564368436016?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5901222564368436016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/5901222564368436016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#5901222564368436016' title='Monday &amp; Today.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-764853129383931189</id><published>2008-08-23T02:47:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T02:57:34.665-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Metal God Conspiracy?</title><content type='html'>Scene: Me, looking for underwear in a lingerie store.&lt;br /&gt;Weird fact: it started to play Metallica. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, Metallica - Nothing Else Matters, in a lingerie store, here in Brazil. That's not normal at all. And, after two songs, Bon Jovi. &lt;br /&gt;I'm definitely scared!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Metallica] Nothing Else Matters.&lt;br /&gt;[Olympic Games] Volleyball Woman - China x Cuba.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-764853129383931189?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/764853129383931189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/764853129383931189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#764853129383931189' title='Metal God Conspiracy?'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-376824591007295443</id><published>2008-08-20T12:19:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T12:20:51.782-03:00</updated><title type='text'>An essay about very solid relationships.</title><content type='html'>Are we lovers out of moon&lt;br /&gt;Are we singing out of tune&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not good enough for you&lt;br /&gt;Let this distance grow between us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stay forever&lt;br /&gt;Ok&lt;br /&gt;We can get together&lt;br /&gt;Someday&lt;br /&gt;On the other side of the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I take your hesitation&lt;br /&gt;Could I show you my regret&lt;br /&gt;Someone help me to forget&lt;br /&gt;This big egg inside my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say forever&lt;br /&gt;Ok&lt;br /&gt;Let's ride a wave together&lt;br /&gt;Someday&lt;br /&gt;On the other side...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is...&lt;br /&gt;This thing...&lt;br /&gt;Called us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Kid Abelha] Someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-376824591007295443?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/376824591007295443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/376824591007295443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#376824591007295443' title='An essay about very solid relationships.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1772314665925536200</id><published>2008-08-18T19:20:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T19:30:35.476-03:00</updated><title type='text'>La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la</title><content type='html'>AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what you got to do when you get really stressed, you just go AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Spice Girls] Spice Invaders.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1772314665925536200?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1772314665925536200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1772314665925536200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#1772314665925536200' title='La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2339374188509161898</id><published>2008-08-16T23:27:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T23:30:57.041-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Music cuts that make sense right now...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Baby, sometimes I feel like dying,&lt;br /&gt;Driving while Im closing my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Moving in and out of hiding,&lt;br /&gt;Trying to catch some truth in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Sunday morning, my town is sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;Lying all alone in my bed,&lt;br /&gt;Theres not a sound, I cant help but listening.&lt;br /&gt;Wishing I was somewhere else instead.&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes theyre too hard to handle,&lt;br /&gt;These voices inside my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Roxette] Run to you.&lt;br /&gt;[Agatha Christie] The Murder in the Mews.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2339374188509161898?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2339374188509161898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2339374188509161898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#2339374188509161898' title='Music cuts that make sense right now...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-797678429800821542</id><published>2008-08-14T07:10:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T23:07:35.874-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Crash.</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. (...) but nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you something: I have feelings. Surprised, huh?! &lt;br /&gt;And besides I'm rustic, rude, stupid and selfish, I'm sensitive like a fine sheet of crystal glass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who cares? After all, people like me just don't have feelings, right? It's an urban legend. I'm so rough and violent that I can't have feelings, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ambeon] Surreal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-797678429800821542?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/797678429800821542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/797678429800821542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#797678429800821542' title='Crash.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-698432430985205629</id><published>2008-08-12T18:17:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T18:22:45.073-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Too good to be true.</title><content type='html'>Is it 'coz I've said loud I was happy?! I dunno, but it sux. Two fucking stupid days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;Well, it was good I've enjoyed the weekend, 'coz I think it was my last "go out" (even if it was at home, anyway) for a long period, from now on...&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, other facts will be reported here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Right between the eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-698432430985205629?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/698432430985205629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/698432430985205629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#698432430985205629' title='Too good to be true.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3817183463576315197</id><published>2008-08-11T21:33:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:10:25.012-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cold-hot weekend.</title><content type='html'>The weekend was windy, rainy and cold: this is one reason to be happy. But it was very warm, hot, at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;It started like hell, 'coz I almost lost my bros in a car accident - Odin bless the airbags and the seat belts - and I didn't sleep for more or less 48 hours, and went to work anyway. Well, he's fine, and it's all that matters.&lt;br /&gt;But after work, I went out with my "something-like-boyfriend" and after I had fondue at home with some friends. And both of them were perfect. Simply perfect.&lt;br /&gt;Thanx again, guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Garbage] Sex is not the enemy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3817183463576315197?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3817183463576315197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3817183463576315197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#3817183463576315197' title='Cold-hot weekend.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4344395305956709841</id><published>2008-08-08T23:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T23:51:16.212-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Good surprises...</title><content type='html'>...are always welcome.&lt;br /&gt;And I have awesome friends.&lt;br /&gt;Thanx guys for the not-really-usual-Friday!&lt;br /&gt;*smiling*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Gathering] In Motion #1.&lt;br /&gt;[The Tudors] Season 1 (yet).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4344395305956709841?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4344395305956709841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4344395305956709841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#4344395305956709841' title='Good surprises...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3383063069190606002</id><published>2008-08-06T11:53:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T12:02:05.499-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange déjà vu...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I had a Spanish test.&lt;br /&gt;And strange thoughts in the way back home too, like some days ago. A strange déjà vu and I can swear that voice was real at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The Gathering] Forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3383063069190606002?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3383063069190606002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3383063069190606002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#3383063069190606002' title='Strange déjà vu...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8372625459473824377</id><published>2008-08-03T19:31:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T20:15:34.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Make me...</title><content type='html'>Make me a pretty person&lt;br /&gt;Make me feel like I belong&lt;br /&gt;Make me hard and make me happy&lt;br /&gt;Make me beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The emptiness&lt;br /&gt;The craziness&lt;br /&gt;Satisfy this hungriness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darling&lt;br /&gt;How would it feel?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8372625459473824377?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8372625459473824377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8372625459473824377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#8372625459473824377' title='Make me...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3884534913421644121</id><published>2008-08-01T12:09:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T12:14:11.281-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pure.</title><content type='html'>Even with these shadows of depression surrounding my life, his tiny and almost hidden smile had fulfilled my heart with the most sincere happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3884534913421644121?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3884534913421644121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3884534913421644121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html#3884534913421644121' title='Pure.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1193847389444641015</id><published>2008-07-30T22:35:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T22:43:38.829-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Scream if you wanna go slower.</title><content type='html'>Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. It didn't work. &lt;br /&gt;The things are still spinning toooooo fast. It means = too hard to handle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1193847389444641015?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1193847389444641015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1193847389444641015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#1193847389444641015' title='Scream if you wanna go slower.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-153142192818613621</id><published>2008-07-29T21:04:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:08:47.829-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Just to say...</title><content type='html'>...I bought blue sneakers and a printer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Blackmore's Night] Gone With The Wind.&lt;br /&gt;[Agatha Christie] Hallowe'en Party.&lt;br /&gt;[The Tudors] 1st Season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-153142192818613621?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/153142192818613621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/153142192818613621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#153142192818613621' title='Just to say...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-4784321477607287660</id><published>2008-07-28T02:19:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T02:30:34.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Back home again.</title><content type='html'>Like I said: home.&lt;br /&gt;So, from now on, I'll do what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Oh it's good to be back home again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Blackmore's Night] Home Again.&lt;br /&gt;[Agatha Christie] Hallowe'en Party.&lt;br /&gt;[The Tudors] 1st Season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-4784321477607287660?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4784321477607287660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/4784321477607287660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html#4784321477607287660' title='Back home again.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-2963924447832750669</id><published>2008-05-19T01:26:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T01:31:05.027-03:00</updated><title type='text'>That's it.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;b&gt;That's it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img218.imageshack.us/img218/6876/overzl1.jpg" align="absmiddle"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divirtam-se fazendo coisa melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9256/musicsg3.gif" align="absmiddle"&gt; [Garbage] Music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2826/livrinhone3.gif"width="17" height="15" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Mark Freeth] Garbage - a darker religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/1884/newlinecinemastpoh7.gif" width="19" height="19" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Absolute Garbage].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-2963924447832750669?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2963924447832750669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/2963924447832750669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#2963924447832750669' title='That&apos;s it.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-3213542198594117708</id><published>2008-04-29T13:03:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T13:26:52.717-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tava tudo muito bem até então...</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tava tudo muito bem até então...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, como eu sempre digo, sempre tem alguma cretinice pra estragar. E, como ontem foi segunda-feira, não poderia ter dia melhor.&lt;br /&gt;Motivos?? Vários! Um deles é o imbecil do meu pai que consegue atrapalhar a minha vida de forma indireta e a distância. Parabéns pra ele. E ainda bem que ele vem pra cá mesmo, assim posso entregar o troféu pessoalmente...&lt;br /&gt;Outra coisa que anda me irritando são pessoas que se acham. Tipo "pq EU já fui, pq EU já fiz, pq EU faço, pq EU aconteço" e o caralho a quatro. Só esse falatório por si só é um saco, mas pior ainda é quando a pessoa não é porra nenhuma e ainda te atrapalha. Candidatura forte a uma estaca no joelho.&lt;br /&gt;E, finalizando, os malditos motivos financeiros, ou seja, o milagre do desaparecimento do salário.&lt;br /&gt;Eu deveria ficar triste, magoada com certas coisas mas eu estou tão puta da vida que não consigo. Sei que isso vai soar bem pesado, mas certas pessoas fariam um bem maior se morressem...&lt;br /&gt;E, como eu também estou de saco cheio de mamíferos bípedes que acham que pensam, vou aderir à idéia da srta &lt;a href="http://energize.heart-illumination.com/" target="_blank"&gt;aqui&lt;/a&gt; e estou de férias deste recinto desde já.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9256/musicsg3.gif" align="absmiddle"&gt; [Garbage] Special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2826/livrinhone3.gif"width="17" height="15" align="absmiddle"&gt;[None].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/1884/newlinecinemastpoh7.gif" width="19" height="19" align="absmiddle"&gt;[None].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-3213542198594117708?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3213542198594117708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/3213542198594117708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#3213542198594117708' title='Tava tudo muito bem até então...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-8630856316526823954</id><published>2008-04-25T04:58:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T05:00:17.928-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok...</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ok...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I go. Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9256/musicsg3.gif" align="absmiddle"&gt; [Garbage] Right between the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2826/livrinhone3.gif"width="17" height="15" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Nothing].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/1884/newlinecinemastpoh7.gif" width="19" height="19" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Nothing].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-8630856316526823954?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8630856316526823954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/8630856316526823954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#8630856316526823954' title='Ok...'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-1414139265366421385</id><published>2008-04-24T01:33:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T05:00:44.484-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Kinda worried.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kinda worried.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi só um sonho idiota que não significa nada mais que meu excesso de estresse e falta sono nos horários que eu deveria descansar... mas sei lá pq eu estou meio preocupada.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez pq faz um bom tempo que não me lembros dos meus sonhos ou pesadelos. E agora lembrei com uma riqueza de detalhes de dar inveja a Eça de Queirós. Talvez pq tenho mil problemas pra tentar resolver. Ou pq eu fico vendo filmes bizarros? Ou pq eu leio coisas que assustam mais que qualquer filme pesado? É, pode ser...&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. Só sei que isso não passou ainda. E eu continuo preocupada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9256/musicsg3.gif" align="absmiddle"&gt; [Lacuna Coil] Fragile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2826/livrinhone3.gif"width="17" height="15" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Coisas aleatórias].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/1884/newlinecinemastpoh7.gif" width="19" height="19" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Law &amp; Order] New chapter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-1414139265366421385?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1414139265366421385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/1414139265366421385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#1414139265366421385' title='Kinda worried.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3189399.post-6996426352754639211</id><published>2008-04-18T17:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T17:40:24.920-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoje é sexta-feira.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font color=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hoje é sexta-feira.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então, "hoje" costuma me deprimir.&lt;br /&gt;E sim, ando "monofrásica" ultimamente.&lt;br /&gt;Vou dormir pra ver se passa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9256/musicsg3.gif" align="absmiddle"&gt; [The Gathering] Red Is A Slow Color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/2826/livrinhone3.gif"width="17" height="15" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Nothing].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/1884/newlinecinemastpoh7.gif" width="19" height="19" align="absmiddle"&gt;[Nothing].&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3189399-6996426352754639211?l=digitalgarbage.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6996426352754639211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3189399/posts/default/6996426352754639211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://digitalgarbage.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#6996426352754639211' title='Hoje é sexta-feira.'/><author><name>Cursed Christabel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='13' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v2njiIdJWM8/SI6xdHLcoqI/AAAAAAAAAB0/zyQQxt-VX0c/S220/theeyes.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
