<?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-11516256</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:33:47.183-03:00</updated><category term='vacaciones'/><title type='text'>Agnes muere al final</title><subtitle type='html'>Nació con un gesto, y usaba gafas negras.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-116245701399437820</id><published>2006-11-02T05:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:54:05.686-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacaciones'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;no me gusta saber que, vaya donde vaya, voy a estar ahí por el resto de mi vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;una debería tener derecho a tomarse unas vacaciones, y ser otro (o simplemente no ser) por un par días al mes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-116245701399437820?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/116245701399437820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/116245701399437820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2006/11/no-me-gusta-saber-que-vaya-donde-vaya.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-115562574454215510</id><published>2006-08-15T04:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:11.282-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Crawl adelante&lt;br /&gt;y crawl  atrás&lt;br /&gt;Subo a la superficie a respirar&lt;br /&gt;Abro los ojos&lt;br /&gt;los vuelvo a  cerrar&lt;br /&gt;Me hundo&lt;br /&gt;me abandono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una sobre otra&lt;br /&gt;piel bajo la  piel sobre la piel&lt;br /&gt;Sofocado, inconsciente, coronado&lt;br /&gt;No hay sudor&lt;br /&gt;solo hay piel bajo la piel sobre la piel&lt;br /&gt;Kilómetros de piel marcada&lt;br /&gt;Marcas de agua sobre rutas de piel&lt;br /&gt;bajo la piel si giro&lt;br /&gt;Piel si  quedo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawl adelante&lt;br /&gt;y crawl atrás&lt;br /&gt;Subo a la superficie a  respirar&lt;br /&gt;Abro los ojos&lt;br /&gt;los vuelvo a cerrar&lt;br /&gt;Me hundo&lt;br /&gt;me  abandono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naufrago zozobrando y no hago pie bajo la piel&lt;br /&gt;sobre la piel  me fundo y me adelanto&lt;br /&gt;Piel natural, sin depilar bajo la piel&lt;br /&gt;sobre  la Piel entintada&lt;br /&gt;Apretado sutil y suavemente en piel&lt;br /&gt;si giro piel si  quedo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawl adelante&lt;br /&gt;y crawl atrás&lt;br /&gt;Subo a la superficie a respirar&lt;br /&gt;Abro los ojos&lt;br /&gt;los vuelvo a cerrar&lt;br /&gt;Me hundo&lt;br /&gt;me  abandono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;porque no me voy a ahogar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Gabo - Tapado de piel)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-115562574454215510?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/115562574454215510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/115562574454215510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2006/08/crawl-adelante-y-crawl-atrs-subo-la.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-115260295632323962</id><published>2006-07-11T04:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:11.215-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cada día es pensar en él e hincharme el pecho de felicidad absoluta. pensé que todo esto no existía.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-115260295632323962?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/115260295632323962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/115260295632323962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2006/07/cada-da-es-pensar-en-l-e-hincharme-el.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-113253548132798562</id><published>2005-11-20T20:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:11.154-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;besos, miles de besos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-113253548132798562?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113253548132798562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113253548132798562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/11/besos-miles-de-besos.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-113168827803727028</id><published>2005-11-11T02:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:11.091-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;francamente, te quiero porque... pues porque es lo único que puede hacerse contigo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-113168827803727028?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113168827803727028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113168827803727028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/11/francamente-te-quiero-porque.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-113082489825231070</id><published>2005-11-01T03:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:11.028-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;estoy segura de que la luna, de día, es más hermosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-113082489825231070?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113082489825231070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113082489825231070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/11/estoy-segura-de-que-la-luna-de-da-es.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-113022540760771738</id><published>2005-10-25T04:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.962-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;entre el supuesto "yo me amo" que me atribuyó él anoche, y el "siempre enfocandote en ese agujero negro, en las pequeñas cosas malas tuyas" de ella de hoy, hay un mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;mi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-113022540760771738?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113022540760771738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113022540760771738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/10/entre-el-supuesto-yo-me-amo-que-me.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-113022530264847984</id><published>2005-10-25T04:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.897-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a las 4.22 AM pasan demasiadas cosas en mi.&lt;br /&gt;siempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-113022530264847984?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113022530264847984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/113022530264847984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/10/las-4.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111988858633974012</id><published>2005-06-27T13:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.826-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;al final, la felicidad se reduce a escuchar la canción correcta en el momento propicio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111988858633974012?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111988858633974012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111988858633974012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/al-final-la-felicidad-se-reduce.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111913101824398790</id><published>2005-06-18T17:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.700-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;de dama antigua, para un 25 de mayo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;bailando el pericón&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;bailando el chamamé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;haciendo de emilia mazer en una "adaptación libre/farsa" de la novela "Nano"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;bailando "Caribe sur", de Man Ray, en el día de la música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bailando "Celoso Baboso" y "Metejón" de Jugate Conmigo, en el día del niño&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Coreografiando y presentando "Soy de la esquina", de Jugate conmigo, en el día de la música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;leyendo un poema sobre Manuel Lainez, en el día del patrono de la escuela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Llevando la bandera de Túnez, para la parte del mundial del '78 en el acto del centenario del colegio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;las 2 obras del curso de teatro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y seguramente varios más que no me acuerdo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111913101824398790?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111913101824398790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111913101824398790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/de-dama-antigua-para-un-25-de-mayo.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111863623215293487</id><published>2005-06-13T01:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.418-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/294/6359/640/alfonsinastorni1920.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/294/6359/400/alfonsinastorni1920.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alfonsina Storni, al comienzo de un cuaderno, en 1920.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111863623215293487?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111863623215293487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111863623215293487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/alfonsina-storni-al-comienzo-de-un.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111855655511857079</id><published>2005-06-12T02:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.358-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;los besos de esta noche quedarán guardados en algún rincón, de esos lugares bien ocultos que sólo encuentran los que no buscaban nada. los de anoche todavía vuelan, como pequeñas burbujas (como esas que el señor soplaba hoy en la calle), esperando que yo me acuerde de ellos. porque &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;le da &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a la vida &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;una textura especial &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;tener recuerdos de lo que nunca ocurrió. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111855655511857079?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111855655511857079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111855655511857079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/los-besos-de-esta-noche-quedarn.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111855440279277927</id><published>2005-06-12T02:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.297-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;la música es &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111855440279277927?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111855440279277927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111855440279277927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/la-msica-es-tanto.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111845396563292905</id><published>2005-06-10T22:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.234-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;o con &lt;a href="http://fotolog.terra.cl/mechitacvm:6"&gt;éste&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111845396563292905?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111845396563292905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111845396563292905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/o-con-ste.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111812996981266951</id><published>2005-06-07T04:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.175-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;    . nicolás cabré&lt;br /&gt;   . pacey / joshua jackson&lt;br /&gt;   . jd / zach braff&lt;br /&gt;   . el hermano de torcuato&lt;br /&gt;. joey tribbiani&lt;br /&gt;. logan&lt;br /&gt;   . jamie oliver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me caso con el primero que me lo pida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111812996981266951?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111812996981266951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111812996981266951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111759032471093473</id><published>2005-05-31T22:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.111-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Has an unsatisfied need to ally herself with others whose standards are as high  as her own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for preeminence isolates  her and inhibits her readiness to give herself freely. While she wants to  surrender and let herself go, she regards this as a weakness which must be  resisted. This self-restraint, she feels, will lift her above the rank and file  and ensure recognition as a unique and distinctive personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(del color quiz)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111759032471093473?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111759032471093473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111759032471093473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/has-unsatisfied-need-to-ally-herself.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111725971706611276</id><published>2005-05-28T02:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:10.047-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ja!&lt;br /&gt;soy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tan &lt;/span&gt;reconocible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111725971706611276?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111725971706611276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111725971706611276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/ja-soy-tan-reconocible.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111725905939064303</id><published>2005-05-28T02:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.982-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;lo extraño.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, no a él.&lt;br /&gt;tampoco al otro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a ese.&lt;br /&gt;sí, a ese.&lt;br /&gt;quiero ver una peli y taparnos los pies y calentarmelos con los suyos, comiendo oreo bañadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111725905939064303?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111725905939064303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111725905939064303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/lo-extrao.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111690289762015105</id><published>2005-05-23T23:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.921-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ahora que lo pienso, es mucho más grave todo esto, si pienso que hoy fue un día de 3 primeras gloriosas veces:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ol&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;africa mía&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;la naranja mecánica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pet sounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111690289762015105?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690289762015105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690289762015105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/ahora-que-lo-pienso-es-mucho-ms-grave.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111690102386729398</id><published>2005-05-23T23:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.861-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; I had to prove that I could make it alone&lt;br /&gt;But that's not me&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to show how independent I'd grown now&lt;br /&gt;But that's not me&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I could try to be big in the eyes of the world&lt;br /&gt;What matters to me is what I could be to just one girl&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm a little bit scared&lt;br /&gt;Cause I haven't been home in a long time&lt;br /&gt;You needed my love&lt;br /&gt;And I know that I left at the wrong time&lt;br /&gt;My folks when I wrote them&lt;br /&gt;Told 'em what I was up to said that's not me&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I went through all kinds of changes&lt;br /&gt;Took a look at myself and said that's not me&lt;br /&gt;I miss my pad and the places I've known&lt;br /&gt;And every night as I lay there alone I will dream&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I once had a dream&lt;br /&gt;So I packed up and split for the city&lt;br /&gt;I soon found out that my lonely life wasn't so pretty&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I went now I'm that much more sure that we're ready&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I once had a dream&lt;br /&gt;So I packed up and split for the city&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beach Boys - That's not me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111690102386729398?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690102386729398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690102386729398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-had-to-prove-that-i-could-make-it.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111690014278289668</id><published>2005-05-23T23:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.785-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;y si supiera a quién y qué, me preguntaría a mi misma para qué, así que no diría nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111690014278289668?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690014278289668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111690014278289668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/y-si-supiera-quin-y-qu-me-preguntara.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111689962162849929</id><published>2005-05-23T22:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.728-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;y si supiera a quién, tampoco sabría qué.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111689962162849929?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111689962162849929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111689962162849929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/y-si-supiera-quin-tampoco-sabra-qu.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111689953315834867</id><published>2005-05-23T22:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.668-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;realmente espero que esto sea producto de mi posible spm. porque si no, sería uno de esos bordes de colapsos, o colapsos en sí, por qué no, que siempre me hacen pensar en empezar de nuevo (a pesar de que finalmente nunca lo hago).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la peor parte es que no se a quien gritarle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111689953315834867?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111689953315834867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111689953315834867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/realmente-espero-que-esto-sea-producto.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111661680129916696</id><published>2005-05-20T16:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.608-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;qué fiaca. mal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111661680129916696?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111661680129916696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111661680129916696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/qu-fiaca.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111613542555315365</id><published>2005-05-15T02:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.546-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sola en casa&lt;br /&gt;con un sweter enorme&lt;br /&gt;con el gato en la falda&lt;br /&gt;y la música que me entra por todos lados&lt;br /&gt;y cansada, cansada de lo lindo porque fue por ellos, los hermosos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y no hay caso, no puedo dejar de incluir "y porque anoche dormí con él".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y la felicidad individual, carajo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111613542555315365?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111613542555315365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111613542555315365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/sola-en-casa-con-un-sweter-enorme-con.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111613466907513012</id><published>2005-05-15T02:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.444-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;nada, que soy feliz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111613466907513012?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111613466907513012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111613466907513012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/nada-que-soy-feliz.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111569830002064371</id><published>2005-05-10T01:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.378-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hora de hacer algo completamente espectacular, o de ir a acostarme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al menos, calamaro y sus aquellos besos me acompaña.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111569830002064371?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111569830002064371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111569830002064371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/hora-de-hacer-algo-completamente.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111569771566224505</id><published>2005-05-10T01:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.313-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;otra vez no está cuando lo necesito. cuando lo necesito mucho.&lt;br /&gt;cuando lo necesito para que me cuide de él, o de mí a causa de él.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;otra vez no soy lo que necesita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111569771566224505?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111569771566224505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111569771566224505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/05/otra-vez-no-est-cuando-lo-necesito.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111318761726186998</id><published>2005-04-10T23:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.187-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hoy maté 7 mosquitos en un lapso de 20 minutos o media hora.&lt;br /&gt;oooh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111318761726186998?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111318761726186998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111318761726186998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/04/hoy-mat-7-mosquitos-en-un-lapso-de-20.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111302749792996567</id><published>2005-04-09T03:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.129-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;supongo que mis problemas empezaron cuando mis ídolas pasaron a ser, de Jo y Jerusha Abbott, a las chicas de jugate conmigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111302749792996567?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111302749792996567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111302749792996567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/04/supongo-que-mis-problemas-empezaron.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111302155518637457</id><published>2005-04-09T01:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.067-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;en este momento muero de ganas de estudiar, pero ni loca contesto cuando me pregunten "qué hiciste el viernes a la noche" con un "estudié". así que no, porque yo mentirosa no soy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111302155518637457?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111302155518637457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111302155518637457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/04/en-este-momento-muero-de-ganas-de.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111301875892074505</id><published>2005-04-09T00:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:09.001-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hoy por primera vez en mi vida lloré al terminar un libro.&lt;br /&gt;no fue por que haya sido triste lo que estaba escrito en él. lo triste fue que nunca nunca más, voy a poder leer por primera vez esas nueve maravillas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maravillas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111301875892074505?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111301875892074505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111301875892074505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/04/hoy-por-primera-vez-en-mi-vida-llor-al.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111301078232655798</id><published>2005-04-08T22:34:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; un arma de doble filo&lt;br /&gt;contigo solo puedo perder&lt;br /&gt;tu me estas atrapando otra vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111301078232655798?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111301078232655798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111301078232655798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/04/un-arma-de-doble-filo-contigo-solo.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111228050300576333</id><published>2005-03-31T11:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.882-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;haber hecho a un lado el miedo que le tengo a la cabeza de huevo de billy corgan yponerme a  escuchar los grandes exitos de los smashing pumpkins, no sólo fue un paso adelante, sino también un placer enorme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111228050300576333?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111228050300576333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111228050300576333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/haber-hecho-un-lado-el-miedo-que-le.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111210804383494193</id><published>2005-03-29T11:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.825-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ya se me está pasando lo de ver un post en cada esquina. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111210804383494193?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111210804383494193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111210804383494193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/ya-se-me-est-pasando-lo-de-ver-un-post.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111210784960053692</id><published>2005-03-29T11:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.762-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;no me gusta despertarme y que esté feo el día.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111210784960053692?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111210784960053692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111210784960053692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/no-me-gusta-despertarme-y-que-est-feo.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111163552961643238</id><published>2005-03-24T00:37:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.643-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;extrañaba subrayar apuntes en el colectivo, y terminar tachando, casi, las oraciones, por los saltos que pega. ahora me falta aprenderme bien el recorrido, para saber bien cuándo los baches son más profundos y no garabatear tanto la hoja.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111163552961643238?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111163552961643238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111163552961643238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/extraaba-subrayar-apuntes-en-el.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111155404638198983</id><published>2005-03-23T01:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.520-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;una cama conocida, un cuerpo caliente, arrumacos culpables pero irresistibles.&lt;br /&gt;lo más difícil del mundo debe ser decir que no, cuando todo todo dice que sí, menos tu cabeza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;feliz otoño!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111155404638198983?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111155404638198983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111155404638198983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/una-cama-conocida-un-cuerpo-caliente.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111146781307911147</id><published>2005-03-22T02:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.461-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;hace varios años, siempre me ponía de novia un día 22.&lt;br /&gt;ultimamente lo estoy haciendo en los primeros días del mes.&lt;br /&gt;próximamente: seguirá el celibato/soltería.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111146781307911147?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146781307911147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146781307911147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/hace-varios-aos-siempre-me-pona-de.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111146767025752490</id><published>2005-03-22T01:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.406-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;al final de la clase (faltarían 20 minutos) la birome dejó de escribir. firuletes por toda la hoja de atrás de todo, y volvió la tinta. apuntes de lo que decía el profesor, y se fue de nuevo. era nueva. bah, casi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;igual lo más exasperante es ver cuando todos toman nota menos vos, algo que no te pareció relevante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111146767025752490?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146767025752490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146767025752490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/al-final-de-la-clase-faltaran-20.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111146724865694068</id><published>2005-03-22T01:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.349-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;y la nueva vida comenzó y me propongo hacerla hermosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111146724865694068?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146724865694068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111146724865694068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/y-la-nueva-vida-comenz-y-me-propongo.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111118397327236983</id><published>2005-03-18T19:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.294-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;en la mitad de los posts que lleva este blog aparece la palabra "vida".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la mitad más 1, con éste.&lt;br /&gt;somo' de boca, somo'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111118397327236983?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111118397327236983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111118397327236983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/en-la-mitad-de-los-posts-que-lleva.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111111023164983213</id><published>2005-03-17T22:29:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.237-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;empezaron las apuestas para ver cuanto tardo en hacer de esta vida, un espejo de la anterior.&lt;br /&gt;un consejo: para ganar hay que apostarme en contra. siempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111111023164983213?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111111023164983213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111111023164983213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/empezaron-las-apuestas-para-ver-cuanto.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111109972133937557</id><published>2005-03-17T19:48:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.181-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a veces me descubro pensando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111109972133937557?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111109972133937557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111109972133937557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/veces-me-descubro-pensando.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108332099390476</id><published>2005-03-17T15:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.123-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;la vida sería mucho mucho mejor si cada tanto, un día al año ponele, se pudiera ser otra persona. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108332099390476?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108332099390476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108332099390476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/la-vida-sera-mucho-mucho-mejor-si-cada.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108258941419136</id><published>2005-03-17T15:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:08.060-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sé que mi vida se va a convertir en algo realmente interesante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y está bueno eso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108258941419136?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108258941419136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108258941419136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/s-que-mi-vida-se-va-convertir-en-algo.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108131295495810</id><published>2005-03-17T14:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:07.996-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;amaba su persona y odiaba profundamente su personaje. ese personaje que era tan propio como la persona, pero al mismo tiempo, profundamente secundario y despojable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108131295495810?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108131295495810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108131295495810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/amaba-su-persona-y-odiaba.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108122547506278</id><published>2005-03-17T14:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:07.938-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt; necesito escribir con locura.&lt;br /&gt;necesito escribir, con locura.&lt;br /&gt;necesito escribir. con locura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108122547506278?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108122547506278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108122547506278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/necesito-escribir-con-locura.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108120188542633</id><published>2005-03-17T14:39:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:07.881-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt; cada vez que miro gilmore girls se me hace más doloroso no ser rory. quiero su vida, sus hombres, su pueblo, su madre, sus abuelos, su universidad, su dorm, su forma de hablar, su cuerpo, su cara, su pelo, su elegancia, su todo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;no lo soporto, no lo soporto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108120188542633?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108120188542633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108120188542633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/cada-vez-que-miro-gilmore-girls-se-me.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11516256.post-111108112878074971</id><published>2005-03-17T14:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:07.818-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt; "todo es ficción", decía mi profesora de literatura.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;pero nada lo es enteramente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11516256-111108112878074971?l=agnesmuere.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108112878074971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11516256/posts/default/111108112878074971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agnesmuere.blogspot.com/2005/03/todo-es-ficcin-deca-mi-profesora-de.html' title=''/><author><name>agnes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08354304541726386470</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
