thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
Eu e voceNao e assim tao complicadoNao e dificil perceberQuem de nos doisVai dizer que e impossivelO amor acontecerSe eu disser que ja nem sinto nadaQue a estrada sem voce e mais seguraEu sei voce vai rir da minha caraEu ja conheco o teu sorriso, leio teu olharTeu sorriso e so disfarceE eu ja nem precisoSinto dizerQue amo mesmo, ta ruim pra disfarcarEntre nos doisNao cabe mais nenhum segredoAlem do que ja combinamosNo vao das coisas que a gente disseNao cabe mais sermos somente amigosE quando eu falo que eu ja nem queroA frase fica pelo avessoMeio na contra-maoE quando finjo que esquecoEu nao esqueci nadaE cada vez que eu fujo, eu me aproximo maisE te perder de vista assim e ruim demaisE e por isso que atravesso o teu futuroE faco das lembrancas um lugar seguroNao e que eu queira reviver nenhum passadoNem revirar um sentimento reviradoMas toda vez que eu procuro uma saidaAcabo entrando sem querer na sua vidaEu procurei qualquer desculpa pra nao te encararPra nao dizer de novo e sempre a mesma coisaFalar so por falarQue eu ja nao to nem ai pra essa conversaQue a historia de nos dois nao me interessaSe eu tento esconder minhas verdadesVoce conhece o meu sorrisoLe no meu olharMeu sorriso e so disfarcePor que eu ja nem precisoE cada vez que eu fujo, eu me aproximo mais . . . ANA CAROLINA - QUEM DE NOS DOIS Tenho me convivido muito ultimamente e descobri com surpresa que sou suportavel, as vezes ate agradavel de ser. Bem. Nem sempre.Clarice Lispector Quando falo com vc pelo telefone, me vem uma felicidade no meu coracao q nao tem explicacao se eu te dizer q te amo , mais porque eu te amo vou arriscar e dizer q amo vc, nao custa nada eu dizer q te amo e sempre te amarei cada vez (...) A internet esta sendo usada para redefinir as relacoes de familia numa sociedade em que as pessoas estao experimentando novas formacoes familiares. Mostra como o e-mail permitiu a muitos realizar o que chama de "familias de escolha", incorporando a vida cotidiana da familia estranhos conhecidos via Internet, ou com quem o contato foi desenvolvido ou enriquecido por uma interacao baseada na Internet durante um periodo. Assim, a pratica do individualismo em rede pode estar redefinindo as fronteiras e o significado de instituicoes tradicionais de sociabilidade, como a familia.(p. 110)CASTELLS, Manuel. A Galaxia da Internet: reflexoes sobre a internet, os negocios e a sociedade. Rio de Janeiro: Jorge ZAHAR Ed., 2003. Podemos pensar que apos lermos esse trecho do livro de Manuel Castells, de como o papel da Internet esta sob forte desenvolvimento nas novas formas de vida familiar. Pois, tanto jovens como adultos, utilizam a internet para se comunicar e tambem para conhecer e fazer contato com novas pessoas. Por esse motivo e tao importante ja iniciarmos na escola durante as aulas de informatica dos alunos, como fazer e como e feita essa interacao, ensina-los a mandar e-mails, como usar um msn, uma conta no orkut, twitter, como participar de blogs,
e mais.O que se mostrar interessante para os alunos deve ser feito, precisa ser ensinado e eles precisam aprender, pois com o decorrer do tempo irao cada vez mais utilizarem dessas tecnologias, que com certeza participarao mais e mais das nossas vidas, principalmente das vidas de nossos alunos, da qual e tao importante estarmos atentos a tudo que eles precisam e de como podemos ser util em ajuda-los.
no comutador: jogos e softwares educacionais,internet, portal Aprende Brasil.4.Como trabalho com os alunos menores, percebo que eles se ajudam durante a atividade proposta. As vezes uns querem fazer pelo outro, neste caso tenho que intervir para que todos do grupo possam mexer, cada um na sua vez, no computador.5.Possuo cursos rapidos dentro da area da informatica: Hardware e Software (com tenicos de informatica); Informatica educacional (CEPIC-NH); Softwares educacionais (CEPIC-NH); Mesas Educacionais Positivo; Lenux Educacional e Portal Aprende Brasil.6.Penso que o que qualificaria mais as aulas de informatica e justamente o que se apresenta como uma dificuldade, ou seja, a capacidade de interacao entre informatica e sala de aula, a tal ponto que esta seja entendida como uma extensao da sala de aula.As facilidades sao os recursos disponiveis, pois hoje a internet nos possibilita muito.
mas o que sera aprendido nao sera algo que voce tera feito para ampliar a si mesmo e sim como uma tarefa obrigatoria que tinha de ser feita para que alguem parasse de bafejar na sua nuca."VEEN, Wim; VRAKKING, Bem. Homo Zappiens: educando na era digital. Porto Alegre: Artmed, 2009. Concordo com os autores, e sabemos que muitas vezes em muitas escolas acontece realmente isso, os alunos se sentem obrigados a fazer algumas tarefas e nao sentem nenhum prazer ou satisfacao em faze-las, fazem simplesmente para se verem livres dela. A partir desse paragrafo do livro, precisamos todos pensar se o que estamos fazendo nas escolas, realmente esta agradando nossos alunos, se estao gostando do que estamos sugerindo e de como estao interagindo com o que e proposto. Somente desse modo saberemos se os alunos estao aprendendo algo novo e se nao estamos impedindo esse ato de acontecer.
grupo de projeto, nos sentimos bastante motivadas na construcao deste blog, na coleta dos dados pesquisados e analisados, na busca dos suportes teoricos. A cada postagem sentimos nosso crescimento em relacao ao tema proposto, ao uso da ferramenta e as aprendizagens efetivadas.Iris e Lorena
virtualidade real. As vantagens desse novo tempo, com as Tecnologias Digitais (TDs), seria a comunicacao, a interacao, a compreensao, o compartilhar conhecimentos, ideias, experiencias e informacoes professor/ aluno, para assim efetivamente criarmos um ambiente de aprendizagem, onde professores e alunos interagem em uma relacao autentica e verdadeira.
melhor padrao de servico em eventos, com conceitos solidos e amplamente utilizados nos eventos de padrao internacional, este grupo vem se destacando nas mais diversas atuacoes relacionadas a eventos. Com profissionais de diversas especialidades e com amplo conhecimento de eventos na sua totalidade, surge como um diferencial ao mercado, oferecendo solucoes adequadas a cada tipo de evento e cliente. Uma equipe de trabalho jovem, dinamica e agil, pronta a oferecer a sua empresa o melhor padrao em servicos.E um privilegio fazer parte dessa Equipe de Excelencia!
privada, fez com que o total de ingressos na universidade aumentassesignificativamente. Nas escolas politecnicas e nas universidades que visitei todosos relatos sao similares sobre o aumento do numero de estudantes. O sistema de ensino passou porgrandes mudancas institucionais, cuja enfase sempre foi os valoresigualitarios, por meio dos quais todos recebem a mesma educacao de altaqualidade, o rico e o pobre (la nao tem pobre) que e gratuita ate mesmo nonivel universitario. E tem mais, o sistema universal de saude e garantido comodireito do cidadao, e o sistema social e generoso, abrangendo a aposentadoria eo seguro-desemprego, e importante registrar que todos estes direitos saosustentados por impostos que se situam entre os mais altos do mundo. Estesistema faz com que a Finlandia se destaque como o pais que tem o menorcontingente de pobres no mundo. Fiquei perplexa com a Finlandia,uma economia pequena, com um sistema de bem-estar social bem desenvolvido, com estudossobre as peculiaridades culturais e sociais, a longa tradicao em design, adisseminacao rapida da internet, tem Wi-fiem todo lugar e a consolidacao do ingles como lingua quase universal, todosfalam mais de 3 idiomas e, ate mesmo, a enorme disposicao dos finlandeses parase sentirem cidadaos do mundo, sao receptivos hospitaleiros e gentis. Conversei a respeito de algunsdesafios a serem enfrentados por nossos estudantes brasileiros, pois um dosrequisitos basicos para estudar na Finlandia e ter um excelente nivel de ingles, para participar dosprogramas oferecidos gratuitamente, sabemos que temos muitos desafios a enfrentar. Todas as aulas sao em ingles,nao existe material ou professor que fale portugues e sao apresentados seminariose trabalhos em ingles quase todos os dias nas aulas. Alem do bom nivel emlingua inglesa, os interessados devem possuir curriculo atualizado naPlataforma Lattes e apresentar uma proposta relacionada com as areasestrategicas do governo federal em ciencia, tecnologia e inovacao.Quer saber mais ? jacbueno2410@gmail.com
institutos de pesquisas produzem mais pesquisa de baixa do que de boa qualidade e as produz a custos muito elevados. Ha certamente causas, talvez muitas, para essa inadequacao. A primeira decorre de um "distributivismo" demagogico. E evidente que seria desejavel que novos centros de pesquisas se desenvolvessem em regioes ainda nao desenvolvidas do pais. Mas e um erro crasso esperar que uma atividade de pesquisas qualquer venha a desenvolver economicamente uma regiao sem cultura adequada para conviver com essa pesquisa. Seria desejavel que investimentos macicos fossem aplicados em pesquisas em instituicoes localizadas em regioes pouco desenvolvidas, mas cujo meio ambiente e capaz de absorver os beneficios dessa insercao. O segundo mal que e causa inquestionavel da diminuta e dispendiosa producao de conhecimento e o obsoleto regime de trabalho que regula a mao de obra do setor de pesquisas em universidades publicas e na maioria dos institutos. O pesquisador faz um concurso --frequentemente falsificado-- no comeco de sua carreira. Torna-se vitalicio. Quase sempre nao precisa trabalhar para ter aumento de salario e galgar postos em sua carreira. Ora, qual seria, entao, a motivacao para fazer pesquisas? O terceiro problema e o sistema de gestao de universidades publicas e instituicoes de pesquisa, cuja burocracia soterra qualquer iniciativa dos poucos bem-intencionados professores e pesquisadores que ainda nao esmoreceram. Pois bem. Ha uma formula que evita todos esses males e que ja foi experimentada com sucesso em algumas das instituicoes cientificas do Brasil: a organizacao social. A resistencia dos mediocres e parasitas e a falta de coragem politica de algumas de nossas autoridades impedem a solucao desse problema. ROGERIO CEZAR DE CERQUEIRA LEITE, fisico, e professor emerito da Unicamp e membro do Conselho Nacional de Ciencia e Tecnologia e do Conselho Editorial da Folhahttp://www1.folha.uol.com.br/fsp/opiniao/202892-producao-cientifica-e-lixo-academico-no-brasil.shtml
Therefore, I photograph: to capture the magnificent moments oflife in pictures that will forever express the emotion and character of eachmoment: the bride who walks to the altar, the child who suddenly achieves thelook of a lady, the autumnal leaves that slowly fall. I photograph not to onlykeep each moment as memories, but to provide you with the most remarkablemoments of your life: the day you stopped and counted the shades of colors inthe sky, the day you let yourself observe an insect from so close... the day youlooked at the world through the lens of a camera.
Sometimes darkness welcomes me, and I approach it slowly, not to hide or run away from reality, but to think freely. Since I was little, I heard that over-thinking was not a good practice, because it could fill me with doubts. However, the danger of over-thinking was never strong enough to stop me, once my heart's desire to find answers spoke louder than my caution.So I give darkness a chance. I turnoff the lights in my room, walk to bed and tuck myself in. This time, however,I do not close my eyes and I do not try to sleep. I face the dark, demandingexplanations. Where does it come from, and where do I come from? What is thislife all about? What am I supposed to learn? Should I neglect the dark and onlyappreciate the light? Or am I living life the wrong way? To neglect darkness isto neglect myself, I ponder. Maybe if I do not question the dark, I will notquestion myself. And why not question? I keep my eyes open for aninterminable amount of time, not stressing about the exhaustion Ill feeltomorrow if I dont fall into slumber. After all, I want to discover what I ammissing out on, every time I give in to a dreamy world of sleep. Even then, theworld continues to exist, the air continues to circulate slowly, the sun andthe moon hold their usual sacred spots. And is it possible that I no longerbelong to this world, while I sleep and rove in my dreams?My eyes, still open and staring atnothing, feel lost in the midst of the infinite dark. But what seems to benothing slowly reveals itself as an ocean of mysteries. And I catch myselfraising the usual questions brought by the tide: from where do we come, wheredo we go? I dont know, and to not know troubles me. If I could only extractfrom this dark hollow some soothing and calming answers, I would certainly livewith a less excruciating hunger for discoveries.Time goes by and my questions remainnervously alive. No answers I receive; Im afloat in this ocean of darkness,wondering about this world, and this life, and where we all come from, andwhats the point and... and what else? Because I know there is more, though Icannot know beyond the more. A greater sense of familiarity eventually settlesin the room as my eyes adjust to the dark, but I still bear my doubts, mycuriosity. Darkness embraces me and leads me to lose my own self. Questions are not answered directly, but the sense of familiarity grows.Meanwhile I do not shut my eyes, I do not deprive myself from lifes infinity.For each unsettling thought and hungry doubt, the dark responds with a sense ofwarmth and companionship. There is no reply, but the darkness listens quietlyand patiently. And for tonight, that seems enough. I bought my new pen at the Staples around the corner. I spent weeks thinking I need new pens, until I finally crossed the street from my apartment yesterday and went looking for a fine, black pen that did not bleed ink
through the paper. Although my thoughts were turbulent and urgent that night - they screamed Write us down, translate us in words - I could not bring myself to do it. Less important, yet more urgent, tasks awaited me.This morning I made sure to grab my pen before leaving for school. When classes were over, my friend John obsessively talked about his argument with his friends. We were childhood friends, come on! Now, each one is going their own way. How could she turn her back on us like this? he kept repeating. I politely listened, packing my books into my bag, and I impatiently blurted out Stop trying to fix other peoples problems! before I left. I had heard the same words for so many days in a row. I wondered when he would realize that people change and life moves on.My feelings stirred up and my thoughts were banging Why do things have to be complicated now? Because they werent, a long time ago. Nostalgia hit me. Instead of going home to do homework and clean my room, I did what I wasnt supposed to: roam inside Barnes and Noble, picking new books even though I already have piles of them waiting for me in my bedroom. There, in the store, I went again, read fragments of fictional stories, love advice and travel guides to Europe. Because routine - that annoying small pebble inside your shoe - was a persistent force which I could not go against, I ended up on the Starbucks line convincing myself to buy coffee so I could sit and enjoy the soon-to-be-mine books, although I knew all seats were taken.Caffeine ran through my blood while I read about meditation, the science of happiness, positive thinking and the interesting discoveries of quantum physics. Thought provoking books were the attention suckers I needed. That way I forgot the drama of life, the intriguing and confusing feelings of no longer knowing where Im headed. When such feelings were born, I cannot remember. The cashier seemed the only obvious place to end up, paying for thousands of words that would hopefully keep me distracted. I headed home, zig-zagging through twenty blocks, carrying a bag too heavy for my shoulder to handle. There are too many heavy stories inside it, I thought. Yet the weight did not bother me because books were meant to keep me company.The apartment was dark and silent when I arrived home. I sat down on the sofa, grabbed my new pen, placed a new book under a sheet of paper, and started to write. Memories of my childhood came back: five years felt like ages ago. Id also bought a pen five years ago: I was headed to my best friends house and decided to stop at a store to buy gum, and as I entered it, there was a pink pen with intricate patterns of butterflies on the cashier counter. That pen had to be mine.As soon as I arrived at my best friends house, she began to babble, I have a real big
problem. For real. I asked What is it? and she went on babbling about Igor, the boy she was falling for. But he hasnt made any moves yet, and Im afraid to kiss him first because Ive never done this before. For real, she told me. The conversation dragged on for so long that I discreetly looked at my pen, it looked back at me, and I decided to write while Jen revealed her worries. But youre so young, Jen, I responded casually. Youll have plenty of time to learn how to kiss, and I blew my bubble gum.The ability to write words to transport me away from worries seemed nonexistent now. My pen was no longer pink or decorated with butterfly patterns, but fine and black. Thoughts were no longer as easily translatable. Words filled the blank paper with black ink in an attempt to illustrate the episode of five years ago, but it sounded lifeless. Caffeine was still running in my blood, the loud honks of vehicles outside reaching my ears every second. Am I going to lose John as he has lost his friends? Things seem to collapse so much faster nowadays. The clock must have ticked away at a different pace five years - or ages - ago.I stopped writing to look for gum in my bag. If only I had gum, I searched, only finding book after book. I chewed all the gum, I remembered hopelessly.
The Girl I woke up to the annoying sound of the phone vibrating on the wooden floor. I looked across my bed. No, he wasnt there. I stood up, hurriedly dressed myself and stuffed my bag with books. We talked to each other, mostly through our stare. Time had gone by. The feeling had remained strong. My heart thumped, because there they were: his sweet smile, his warm gaze. I said hi. He said hello. His arms embraced my figure; I returned to trust, to love. My hands gravitated to his black, smooth hair. I loved it so much. And I could hear him whispering to me, words that comforted, cheered, appeased my heart. Then I caressed his face and noted a bruise, a round and hurtful purple spot. What had happened? He explained. He said, your kiss can heal it, kiss me, he asked. And he opened a heart-melting smile and I kissed him very much. And very much the whole world was healed with love. What a pleasant dream it had been, so abruptly interrupted by that stupid cell phone. He wasnt there. I gazed at myself in the mirror. Accept it, hes not here. Time passed. I got the train and seeped my strong coffee. Too sweet, too strong. But I drank it. I pulled a book out of my tote, because I wanted company. Would he be any closer if I read about a love story? Maybe, if it had a happy ending. It would then fix my ending, maybe. I seeped my coffee, too strong for 8 AM. The occurrence had been a dream, and thus I should forget it. It was not real. At this moment he was, as a matter of fact, far away, either alone or accompanied by. Elsewhere. Alone, perhaps, but never lonely, never dreaming of my dreams. He thought about taking a stroll, calling his best friend, cramming for a test, feeling bored. But me? No. Shut up, I reprimanded my thoughts. The Boy (Written by Jonathan Batista)Ill start off by explaining the heart she writesShe could outshine the brightest stars on a starry nightHer perfect hair, her nice tan complexionThe way she commands a nice mans attentionThe way she pulled me in, as if her hearts a black holeHer eyes make diamonds look like shards of black coalA powerful demeanor, haters are too late to hurt youWith a smile that makes her look like shes in toothpaste commercialsIts beyond physical perfection, an intellectual connectionThe way my heart beats when shes around defines exceptional affectionThe first mistake was being bashful that is why I believe in lessonsThe way her presence gives my essence a reason for being present It seems that in my deepest dreams shes intertwined with my destinyBut when I open my eyes to reality, shes never actually next to meWhat an ocean of emotions and shes a sea skipperYearning to sleep knowing that soon Ill be with herBecause that is when my confidence is where I wish it really wasWalking to her with intentions to show her that this
is really loveSee to me shes my girlfriend, to her Im a brotherForever my secret lover, I cant get enough of herAnd actually, to simply state it factually,I hope one day I could make my dreams a realityThe way she puts her hair strands behind her ears-And stands there with a sneer that accents her dimples which in turn maxes my fearsWhen I see her with others, my faith becomes deadBut when she asks me for a writing utensil, my face becomes redThe way her mere presence controls me, the way I dream that she holds meMy one and only, without her Im cold and lonely.
Why rush? The sun takes half a day to reach its peak, then half more to say goodbye. There is no worry, no concern worth of rush. No need to believe it may not work, because it will. Enter the woods and observe stillness. Have you seen the trees go nowhere? They stand up, night and day, sun or rain, leaves rustling and cheering, roots firmly stuck underground. And have you seen the flowers? They too go nowhere. They grow and blossom, imprinting colors among the greenness of the trees and brownness of the soil. The soil!, have you seen it run? It does not. Have you perceived its placidity? Its ultimate blossom of life? All grows from the soil; it moves without breaking stillness, it creates life without ever rushing. The sun rises up, lazy and splendid, not minding the clock that ticks by. The soil waits for light. At dusk, the sunshine ceases and the moon soon takes place. Enter the woods and observe yet again: all is still, waiting for dawn to break. Why does it wait? Because it bears faith. I sit alone in the kitchen to have dinner. As a calm, sad songplays on the radio, I am filled with memories of my mother talking to me in herusual cheerful tone, smiling with her sweet eyes, always directed at me. I eatmy pasta calmly, dividing it into portions, and realize how dry it is, as Islowly taste it. Its probably because I am not drinking anything, I think. Ithad always been my habit to drink something while eating, like an addiction,and I can hardly remember the times when I passed on a beverage to accompany myfood. But tonight I drink nothing, and this shows me how much I havebeen changing without noticing. Maybe I have been letting small portions ofmyself go, I think. Maybe I would like my fugitive self to wander around, findmy mother and bring her back to me. I open the refrigerator, look for a drinkbut find nothing tastier than water. I go back to eating and nostalgia hits meonce again, reviving a day in my mind when my mother was still with me.We lived in a small, cozy apartment and only saw each other atnight, for I studied in the morning and she worked all day long. She hadprepared dinner and called me to eat at the modest dining table with her, wherewe usually chatted about our day. I sat by her side and quickly realized therewere no drinks, only the every-day garlic-and-oil pasta. I gazed at her withvacant eyes, curling my lips upside down as to suggest my disappointment. I refused to eat. I knew my mother was too kind to criticize mystubbornness; I knew she would kindly ask me to be understanding and eatwithout drinking just that night. Her head would shake at the same time thather lips would form a smile, and sharp words would fail to proceed, a sightaking its place. As expected, she smiled and explained that she had not hadtime to buy drinks that day and that