1.0Nada Além do Simpleshttps://nadaalemdosimples.comIsahttps://nadaalemdosimples.com/author/isa-ribeiro/> Continue a sonhar... - Nada Além do Simplesrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="NGGM6PpDhQ"><a href="https://nadaalemdosimples.com/continue-a-sonhar/">> Continue a sonhar…</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://nadaalemdosimples.com/continue-a-sonhar/embed/#?secret=NGGM6PpDhQ" width="600" height="338" title="“> Continue a sonhar…” — Nada Além do Simples" data-secret="NGGM6PpDhQ" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); /* ]]> */ </script> https://nadaalemdosimples.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/IMG_5015-64-1024x576.jpg1024576Um dia uma professora de literatura tomou da minha mão um caderno em que eu escrevia. Eu contava que aquilo uma hora iria acontecer, afinal eu vivia com ele colado em mim. Eu diria que aquele caderno grande e de capa dura, era quase uma...