<?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-33074278</id><updated>2012-02-14T04:54:46.364-08:00</updated><category term='nós somos assim mesmo'/><title type='text'>*</title><subtitle type='html'>"Nenhum instrumento que conheço possui essa estranha sonoridade situada no limite do silêncio" H. Berlioz. 

Esse espaço é isso.
Notas que provocam estranho ruído, algo sonoro, que se matêm no silêncio das palavras escritas.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notasdesax.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33074278/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notasdesax.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bruna</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZPuRz3SfpcA/R9267zzuVMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ACy6bWQ_0G8/S220/eucarnivas.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33074278.post-115981093234122140</id><published>2008-01-13T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T08:25:25.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nós somos assim mesmo'/><title type='text'>Breath´in *</title><summary type='text'>Eu não sei porquê resolvi fazer aquilo.Todos estavam na marquise se protegendo.Mesmo com a chuva ácida comum nas cidades grandes, queria senti-la, entrando pela minha roupa, escorregadia, esfriando um calor que só eu sentia. Ardia. Queimava.O vento frio, e a chuva aliviavam meus sentidos.Sorri bobamente, e os rapazes me olhavam com certa curiosidade. Cantarolava baixinho e balançava a cabeça </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://notasdesax.blogspot.com/feeds/115981093234122140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33074278&amp;postID=115981093234122140&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33074278/posts/default/115981093234122140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33074278/posts/default/115981093234122140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://notasdesax.blogspot.com/2006/10/breathin.html' title='Breath´in *'/><author><name>Bruna</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZPuRz3SfpcA/R9267zzuVMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/ACy6bWQ_0G8/S220/eucarnivas.bmp'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry></feed>
