<?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-20008505</id><updated>2012-01-26T10:27:04.694-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Penúltimo asiento, al fondo, a la derecha.</title><subtitle type='html'>Entre las redes de sentido que se tejen en el dominio de los espacios. En los colectivos semivacíos de las 11 de la noche dónde el tiempo se eterniza. En el reverso de un Subtepass donde ambos, espacio y tiempo, se sobresaltan. En la mirada tras un ventanal donde ambos, tiempo y espacio, se pacifican.  
Un encuentro entre paralelos y meridianos: Penúltimo asiento, al fondo, a la derecha.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>189</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-865657191279102675</id><published>2009-10-02T17:25:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T17:29:44.978-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: FinEs hora de dar vuelta la última hoja.Penúltimo asiento, al fondo, a la derecha espera algún día, como lejano deseo, regresar en formato papel. Para la Tahoma10  y para mí ha sido un placer. Espero que para ustedes también.Muchas Gracias.Hasta siempre.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/865657191279102675/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=865657191279102675&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/865657191279102675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/865657191279102675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-fin-es.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2494438949325967002</id><published>2009-09-28T11:56:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T12:03:17.303-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Será que las cosas no vuelven al mismo lugar... "Altitud", San José de Costa Rica 2007Buscarte. Encontrarme. Encontrarte. Perderme. Perderte. Buscarme.  Encontrarte otra vez. Es, en pocas palabras, la secuencia propuesta de la táctica y estrategia de la escondida.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2494438949325967002/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2494438949325967002&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2494438949325967002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2494438949325967002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-sera-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SsDPSYwg4mI/AAAAAAAAACY/nEGMalEwDVA/s72-c/foto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5979105977795869662</id><published>2009-09-28T11:34:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T12:04:25.200-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Lugares"Sudeste", San Rafael 2009¿Existe un "lugar en el mundo"?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5979105977795869662/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5979105977795869662&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5979105977795869662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5979105977795869662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-lugares.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SsDNHKGqp-I/AAAAAAAAACQ/dMpcKx8aHlA/s72-c/DSC02757.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3337918152898301475</id><published>2009-09-28T11:21:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T11:22:33.178-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: AmanecerYo no sé por qué no lo llaman nuestro ocaso.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3337918152898301475/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3337918152898301475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3337918152898301475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3337918152898301475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-amanecer.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7481616083550495628</id><published>2009-09-24T10:46:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T23:55:06.493-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: GuiñoEn momentos de caos anímico -que penetra incluso en sueños- y lágrimas contenidas, no hay nada más lindo que alguien sonría por algo que hiciste pensando en que una persona lo haga.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7481616083550495628/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7481616083550495628&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7481616083550495628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7481616083550495628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-guino-en.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4661161407291299656</id><published>2009-09-12T14:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T14:36:45.917-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Respirar"Océano de Enero", Rio de Janeiro 2009.No es cuestión de pulmones o branquias.Más bien de pintar de azul marino la resignación.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4661161407291299656/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4661161407291299656&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4661161407291299656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4661161407291299656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-respirar.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SqvZ-_gBEjI/AAAAAAAAACA/6dREuF8xHhc/s72-c/rio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6840268602300467938</id><published>2009-09-12T14:12:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T14:20:29.543-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Yo te sigo a todas partes, a donde vás..."Uruguayidad", Precordillera de los Andes 2009Hay tantas cosas, yo solo preciso dos:este mate y vos, este mate y vos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6840268602300467938/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6840268602300467938&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6840268602300467938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6840268602300467938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-yo-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SqvXe_cnKlI/AAAAAAAAAB4/tKYC34Uuufo/s72-c/DSC02201.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4833265847979377483</id><published>2009-09-12T14:04:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T14:10:52.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Escuchar el viento"Silencio", Cordillera de los Andes 2009.El arte de la comunicación consiste en saber dominar los silencios.Incluso, reconociendo, que calladito no soy más bonito.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4833265847979377483/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4833265847979377483&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4833265847979377483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4833265847979377483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-escuchar.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SqvVMBfz6KI/AAAAAAAAABw/Jy10SrOlNro/s72-c/100_4520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4737339906250333855</id><published>2009-09-11T15:43:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T15:50:05.376-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Across the Universe"¿Que sentís cuando estás con una persona y tenés cerca tuyo cosas que te regaló otra persona?"¿Cercanía física o del corazón...?Someday, somehow, someone´s gonna change your world.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4737339906250333855/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4737339906250333855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4737339906250333855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4737339906250333855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-across.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6213339327798610620</id><published>2009-09-11T15:40:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T15:41:20.597-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: SudestadaDícese de una tormenta de sentimientos que desestabiliza tus pensamientos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6213339327798610620/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6213339327798610620&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6213339327798610620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6213339327798610620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-9179024968053844440</id><published>2009-09-11T14:56:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T15:16:23.943-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Elogio de las conjugacionesVivir palabras en los idiomas latinos es más traumático que en los idiomas sajones.Ellos, los sajones, prefieren ahorrar espacios, hilando palabras con agujas filológicas cómo los alemanes y casi sin prestaciones desinenciales, como los ingleses. Los latinos, por otra parte, vivimos el tiempo, perdiéndonos en la versátil variedad de la </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9179024968053844440/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=9179024968053844440&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9179024968053844440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9179024968053844440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-elogio.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-9040396439669318487</id><published>2009-08-30T15:21:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T15:22:42.201-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Eterno resplandor de una mente con recuerdosThe only thing that I miss the most is dormir abrazado a vos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9040396439669318487/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=9040396439669318487&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9040396439669318487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9040396439669318487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/08/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-eterno.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-291681211568479969</id><published>2009-06-11T13:56:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:11:05.180-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Del origen de las especies Todavia está por investigarse si existe un gen que manipule los sentimientos en las despedidas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/291681211568479969/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=291681211568479969&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/291681211568479969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/291681211568479969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/06/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-del.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8474499793447471036</id><published>2009-05-28T10:44:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T11:08:02.393-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Lima LimónElla dijo "Las cosas como son".Y el sacó premio en la tapita de su 7up.El desafío Pepsi, un poroto...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8474499793447471036/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8474499793447471036&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8474499793447471036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8474499793447471036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-lima.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4768091433164114159</id><published>2009-05-28T10:38:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T10:44:00.847-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Don Perignon, ¿Su sonrisa pícara de los lunes dónde está?Vencer mi timidez sería como sacar la sortija en la calesita y sin miedo preguntarte: ¿Da para darse?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4768091433164114159/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4768091433164114159&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4768091433164114159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4768091433164114159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-don.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3460464898005177903</id><published>2009-05-24T20:12:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T12:12:20.178-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Relacionarse El arte de relacionarse se asimila al modo en que aman las personas ciegas: Abren sus manos; experimentan todo el rostro para conocerlo (sus pliegues, su contorno); lo acarician. El sentido del tacto observa y aprende todo lo que la vista no puede: citando a Saramago, aquella espuma que fluctúa por debajo de la superficie. Estos mínimos esbozos, que </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3460464898005177903/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3460464898005177903&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3460464898005177903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3460464898005177903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires_24.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-910038599551686677</id><published>2009-05-22T09:59:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T10:13:35.177-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: AcercarseCómo decir que lo que dije está muy lejos de lo que quise decir y lo que quise decir está muy cerca de lo que, en verdad, tuve miedo de decir."Una sopa que da consejos, más que sopa es una amiga" </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/910038599551686677/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=910038599551686677&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/910038599551686677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/910038599551686677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires_22.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/ShakoVT_aCI/AAAAAAAAABo/3Z7ZWsd_W1Y/s72-c/a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8548273884485404230</id><published>2009-05-22T09:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T09:55:37.610-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MediatizaçoesDícese de esos vínculos oximorónicos, ni apocalípticos ni integrados, más bien portunholizados, que te unen a través de confusiones.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8548273884485404230/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8548273884485404230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8548273884485404230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8548273884485404230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/mediatizacoes-dicese-de-esos-vinculos.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5392247584267973793</id><published>2009-05-15T10:31:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:08:47.597-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Confirmación (ó Evaluando los ciento por cientos)Conozco una persona que al concurrir al médico, pregunta si el 100% de su vida son los pacientes. Algún especialista le respondió que ha tenido un cáncer y que esto no es así.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5392247584267973793/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5392247584267973793&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5392247584267973793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5392247584267973793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires_6894.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4439427030116469507</id><published>2009-05-15T10:18:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T10:31:01.250-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Continuidad / Paralelismos / Por dos puntos diferentes sólo pasa una línea recta pero muchas líneas curvasCada vez que contemplo cómo sería escribir una novela, mis personajes insisten en salir corriendo y recordar que sólo están preparados para jugar a la escondida de los cuentos cortos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4439427030116469507/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4439427030116469507&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4439427030116469507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4439427030116469507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires_15.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7388311475057785394</id><published>2009-05-15T10:09:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:13:56.077-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Economía (y Lectura) del habla En el intersticio de lo explícito y lo implícito, la comunicación muere y renace. En este enclave brotan contraseñas y se insinúan pistas de respuestas a preguntas secretas que nos auxilian para entender(nos). Una de sus comunidades, los buscadores, se enorgullecen de estos códigos postales de la postmodernidad.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7388311475057785394/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7388311475057785394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7388311475057785394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7388311475057785394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/economia-del-habla-en-el-intersticio-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6553856073125988982</id><published>2009-05-06T11:39:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T11:41:01.705-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: BuscadorCuando sea grande quiero ser como Google.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6553856073125988982/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6553856073125988982&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6553856073125988982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6553856073125988982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-buscador.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4204517014615389305</id><published>2009-05-05T00:12:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T10:54:04.461-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Adolescencia prestada o Dolor de estómago"Cómo se deja cuando uno quiere?"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4204517014615389305/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4204517014615389305&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4204517014615389305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4204517014615389305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5054234203160055140</id><published>2009-05-04T00:13:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T00:26:12.744-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don´t know howHoy las palabras no son tuyas, las canciones no son tuyas, lo que sentís no es tuyo.Hoy las palabras no son mías, las canciones no son mías, lo que siento no es mio.Hoy, todo es del viento.El viento que habla y compone. Y presiente. Y Lo siente.En fin, como el nudo de mi garganta, el viento </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5054234203160055140/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5054234203160055140&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5054234203160055140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5054234203160055140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2793888782955726525</id><published>2009-04-16T09:37:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T20:56:13.468-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Post DataDícese de:1. La imperiosa necesidad de dejar explícito el verdadero motivo de escribirte.2. "Todo lo que dije hasta acá no tiene tanto sentido como esta línea donde te digo todo lo que no me animo".3. La excepción a todo aquello que en realidad sí puede olvidarse.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2793888782955726525/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2793888782955726525&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2793888782955726525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2793888782955726525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3929842114051821273</id><published>2009-04-14T23:57:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T00:03:55.380-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Sentirse1. Dícese de lo socialmente incorrecto.2. ¿Cómo estás? Pero... En serio ¿Cómo estás? (o dícese de lo socialmente incorrecto -para que no queden dudas-).</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3929842114051821273/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3929842114051821273&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3929842114051821273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3929842114051821273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-sentirse.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8003122643552199918</id><published>2009-04-14T23:53:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:57:15.373-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ProfesiónY mientras me preocupo por entender a las personas y las relaciones complejas que ellas conjugan, hago como que me interesa alguna otra cosa. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8003122643552199918/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8003122643552199918&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8003122643552199918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8003122643552199918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/profesion-y-mientras-me-preocupo-por.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6412680405396242187</id><published>2009-04-14T23:50:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:52:33.651-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Edición LimitadaY en tanto el atrapasueños acechaba sus miedos, sumergía su verborragia de inseguridades bajo la capa de la decisión.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6412680405396242187/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6412680405396242187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6412680405396242187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6412680405396242187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/edicion-limitada-y-en-tanto-el.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-591313967988541308</id><published>2009-04-08T13:21:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T14:19:59.631-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>(Mecanismos de) Defensa PersonalDejame que te escuche que no hay eco.Dejame que te huela que ni me acerco.Dejame que te pruebe que no me gusta.Dejame que te toque que ni lo siento.Dejame que te vea que no me duele.... o casi.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/591313967988541308/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=591313967988541308&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/591313967988541308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/591313967988541308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/04/mecanismos-de-defensa-personal-dejame.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4909104231599015048</id><published>2009-03-20T13:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T13:48:17.850-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: DistanciaEstoy a seis grados de separación de conocerte.Tal vez un poco menos...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4909104231599015048/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4909104231599015048&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4909104231599015048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4909104231599015048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7791082367652891990</id><published>2009-03-07T17:25:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T17:31:05.701-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SombrasLas respuestas silenciosas mayores a siete segundos son la invitación perfecta a no regresar.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7791082367652891990/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7791082367652891990&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7791082367652891990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7791082367652891990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/sombras-las-respuestas-silenciosas.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7590707099191987414</id><published>2009-03-06T16:44:00.008-02:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T23:28:51.555-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Diacronía en sincronía: (El ostracismo)Ernesto escribía novelas para recordar. Lo hacía a menudo.Al finalizar cada capítulo, sus personajes escondían su arte borrando las segundas y terceras líneas de cada cuatro. Ernesto resaltaba para dar vida a su memoria y así entender gran parte de su historia.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7590707099191987414/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7590707099191987414&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7590707099191987414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7590707099191987414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/ernesto-escribia-novelas-para-recordar.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1824982673534535327</id><published>2009-03-02T17:36:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T17:39:06.373-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Escondida virtualLos sentimientos no se ocultan con alt+tab. Siguen titilando en naranja, por ahí.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1824982673534535327/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1824982673534535327&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1824982673534535327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1824982673534535327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/escondida-virtual-los-sentimientos-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-648510745038858325</id><published>2009-03-02T15:53:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T15:55:37.563-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Podio de los deseos"No me tratés tan bien porque salgo corriendo..."Y ganó la medalla de oro en los cien metros llanos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/648510745038858325/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=648510745038858325&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/648510745038858325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/648510745038858325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/03/podio-de-los-deseos-no-me-trates-tan.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-9145398911186005420</id><published>2009-02-27T10:28:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T10:29:51.103-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Excusa Nº1 para llegar 9.30 a tu trabajo Llegué tarde porque... ...me enamoré.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9145398911186005420/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=9145398911186005420&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9145398911186005420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9145398911186005420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/excusa-n1-para-llegar-9.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5760481972275516684</id><published>2009-02-25T11:11:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:17:20.734-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Nubarrones del 3ro al 8vo - Reflexión IILos ascensores compartidos son el paraíso perdido de los masajistas que combaten tortícolis y contracturas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5760481972275516684/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5760481972275516684&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5760481972275516684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5760481972275516684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/nubarrones-del-3ro-al-8vo-reflexion-ii.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7700307750303250751</id><published>2009-02-23T00:30:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T00:39:11.843-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dulce DanielaEl color de la nostalgia es rosa viejo. Va contra la corriente como el salmón y queda marcado en una alfombra. Una alfombra que se siente cálida, rejuvenece al candor del recuerdo, estira el presente en la dialéctica de la memoria y envejece con las toneladas del pasado.En el jardín de infantes actuamos y cantamos Dulce Daniela, y entre el rojo, el amarillo y el azul celeste, yo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7700307750303250751/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7700307750303250751&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7700307750303250751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7700307750303250751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/dulce-daniela-el-color-de-la-nostalgia.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8700978980117444439</id><published>2009-02-23T00:16:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T00:25:36.631-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Nubarrones del 3ro al 8voNo es sólo potestad de los libros de inglés que los personajes hablen del tiempo cuando la incomodidad entre dos desconocidos acecha. Hablar del tiempo siempre refiere al sol, a la lluvia, al calor y a las nubes. Nunca hablar del tiempo es hablar de las etapas, de las eras, de las décadas, del tiempo fue y será una porquería ya lo se, en el 510 y en el 2000 también.En las</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8700978980117444439/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8700978980117444439&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8700978980117444439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8700978980117444439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/nubarrones-del-3ro-al-8vo-he-notado-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-9154185855061823780</id><published>2009-02-23T00:06:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T22:47:14.766-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rebobinando Dudas¿Ser parte de su pasado es ser parte de sus recuerdos o de su memoria?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9154185855061823780/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=9154185855061823780&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9154185855061823780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9154185855061823780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/rebobinando-dudas-ser-parte-de-su.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3748605952114239358</id><published>2009-02-18T00:09:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T09:36:02.180-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pecado originalComo ateo del destino, confieso que las coincidencias, los indicios y lo inexplicable, me helaron de miedo una vez más.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3748605952114239358/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3748605952114239358&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3748605952114239358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3748605952114239358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2009/02/pecado-original-y-yo-un-ateo-del.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-43468849403799263</id><published>2008-12-19T01:30:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T01:53:24.293-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Re-conocimientoPansardi rozó los pliegues de la emergente arruga. Para museificarlo, lo sentaron de piernas cruzadas y le hicieron morder (el pasto d)el empate. El devenir del escurridizo silencio le creó una categoría en la taxonomía social.Si bien nadie se hizo responsable por las fallas del espejo, quién lloró 7 años de mala suerte fue el gato Luna, su fiel </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/43468849403799263/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=43468849403799263&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/43468849403799263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/43468849403799263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/12/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-re.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4521910361308912025</id><published>2008-11-13T00:38:00.007-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:42:26.576-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Ob(Sub)jetividad "Prohibido emocionarse", Santiago de Chile 2008.Ante los carteles sombríos de los seres objetivos, me quedo con la imperfección, los sentimientos y los atardeceres.Yo, subjetivo.NdR: La palabra objetividad ha sido eliminada del Diccionario de los Sentires.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4521910361308912025/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4521910361308912025&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4521910361308912025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4521910361308912025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-adis.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SRuToVtnLXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/DgOI35kQVIE/s72-c/100_3777.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8841862387782152630</id><published>2008-11-10T01:21:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T01:40:25.276-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: ReconciliaciónCruzar la cordillera me permitió reconciliarme con los aeropuertos y las terminales de bus. Incidió sin reincidir, espejó otra óptica: Viajar no como forma de vivir, sino de observar la vida. Esta acompañada soledad sin lágrimas en tu hombro no suprimió mi endemoniada adicción por los acentos. Ni por las carreteras latinoamericanas. Ni por los </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8841862387782152630/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8841862387782152630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8841862387782152630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8841862387782152630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-458288614124489063</id><published>2008-11-10T01:17:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T01:21:05.396-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: TiempoEl tiempo se desvanece en la abstracción de tus centésimos. Tus dichos son dos. La postura es una: No tengo tiempo. No tengo tiempo para vos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/458288614124489063/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=458288614124489063&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/458288614124489063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/458288614124489063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-tiempo.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-118192803605920957</id><published>2008-11-10T01:10:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T01:17:11.047-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: SìEsperanza. Portal. Felicidad. Proximidad. Alegría. Futuro. Sonrisas. Besos. Emoción. Caricias. Deseos. Entereza. Sueño. Pintados. Comunicación. Amor. Creación. Construcción. Ilimitados. Sí.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/118192803605920957/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=118192803605920957&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/118192803605920957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/118192803605920957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-s.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1855063806022399599</id><published>2008-11-10T00:54:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T00:23:10.371-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: NoDesilusión. Muro. Tristeza. Distancia. Dolor. Nostalgia. Lágrimas. Grietas. Desconsuelo. Intento vano. Rasgaduras. Fragilidad. Pesadilla. Miedo. Irreconciliable. Desamor. Destrucción. Cristal partido. No.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1855063806022399599/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1855063806022399599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1855063806022399599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1855063806022399599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/11/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4684222795952550742</id><published>2008-10-19T23:05:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T23:11:22.468-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: CordilleraEntre vos y yo no hay un abismo. Los abismos nos llevan a lo profundo. Suelen ahogarnos.Entre vos y yo hay una cordillera. Las cordilleras nos invitan a escalar. Yo quiero cruzarla.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4684222795952550742/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4684222795952550742&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4684222795952550742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4684222795952550742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6399755558764239222</id><published>2008-10-19T22:11:00.005-02:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T23:02:50.988-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: TesoroSi bien se asemejan, los tesoros son mas privados y más privativos que los sueños. El Banco Central de éste, mí país, revivió el maravilloso emprendimiento de la búsqueda del tesoro. Con pistas delimitadas pero cruces equivocadas, los transeúntes buscan monedas. A sol y sombra. A capa y espada. En un tira y afloje. Cara o ceca.En la terminal de colectivos, el</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6399755558764239222/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6399755558764239222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6399755558764239222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6399755558764239222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-tesoro.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-688350463363380912</id><published>2008-10-03T09:45:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T09:49:20.814-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: VidaEn conclusión, hay dos vidas. La vida que dicen vivir y la vida emocional. En ocasiones, se traspapelan.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/688350463363380912/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=688350463363380912&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/688350463363380912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/688350463363380912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-vida-en.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4521070659587709802</id><published>2008-10-01T10:16:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T13:16:42.207-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Chocolate ralladoLa cantidad de chocolates que regalo en la facultad es directamente proporcional a mi grado de tristeza.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4521070659587709802/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4521070659587709802&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4521070659587709802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4521070659587709802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-triste.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1855312575279439091</id><published>2008-10-01T10:07:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T10:08:52.884-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: DulzuraElla de tan dulce te empalaga... le pone cinco cucharaditas de azucar al té.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1855312575279439091/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1855312575279439091&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1855312575279439091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1855312575279439091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/10/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-dulzura.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2268141591613878130</id><published>2008-09-29T17:49:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:42:37.301-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: Querer-meQue me quieras complicado y niño grande, ciclotímico y curioso, vueltero y orgulloso, soñador y analítico, tranquilo y lunático, loco lindo y enredado. Quereme como soy.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2268141591613878130/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2268141591613878130&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2268141591613878130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2268141591613878130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/el-diccionario-de-los-sentires-querer.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4500325860601987187</id><published>2008-09-29T11:54:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T12:17:20.983-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El diccionario de los sentires: QuererSiempre afirmé que querer con modismos de por medio era una tarea más dificil de lo que parece. Claro, no por eso imposible. Incluso, un poco más allá, estoy convencido que sentir en otro idioma es una experiencia contradictoria y hasta incompleta.Una mañana de marzo llegué al café y pregunté como decir Te Quiero en inglés. Luego de donar incontables </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4500325860601987187/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4500325860601987187&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4500325860601987187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4500325860601987187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/el-diccionario-de-los-amares-siempre.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8718954800706829615</id><published>2008-09-29T11:52:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T12:14:32.546-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Medir con reglaEl largo de la mesa del barcito de la primera cita es directamente proporcional a las ganas (o al miedo) que tenés de que algo suceda.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8718954800706829615/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8718954800706829615&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8718954800706829615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8718954800706829615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/medir-con-regla-el-largo-de-la-mesa-del.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2795152418986018052</id><published>2008-09-15T00:53:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T00:53:53.593-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Parque de Diversiones Versión 2005No hay nada que hacer cuando, ante la montaña rusa, alguien prefiere la calesita.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2795152418986018052/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2795152418986018052&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2795152418986018052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2795152418986018052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/parque-de-diversiones-versin-2005-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6521716677840308855</id><published>2008-09-15T00:28:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T01:05:49.252-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A marzo o El momento in-justoEs evidente que los encuentros no conocen de tiempos.Habría que mandar a las relaciones a una clase de relojería... ó al revés.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6521716677840308855/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6521716677840308855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6521716677840308855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6521716677840308855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/marzo-es-evidente-que-los-encuentros-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6534619432667263162</id><published>2008-09-15T00:10:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T00:19:46.162-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>TernaCada vez que me invaden las preguntas consulto a mis almohadas.Luego de candentes debates y arduas deliberaciones se produce la votación.Cuando se ilumina el cuarto oscuro escribo en el pizarrón los resultados: Una siempre va por el sí, la otra siempre elige no y a la tercera le divierte cortar boleta o jugar al NoSabe NoContesta.Así, termino cerrando los ojos con más dudas que certezas, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6534619432667263162/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6534619432667263162&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6534619432667263162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6534619432667263162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/terna-cada-vez-que-me-invaden-las.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3375527704823697956</id><published>2008-09-14T23:41:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T01:01:39.583-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>minor so Major IIIAdoro cuando sin querer queriendo nos equivocamos y, a dúo, decimos la misma palabra.Se me hace mágico, no sé...Y más mágico, el mar de risas del después.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3375527704823697956/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3375527704823697956&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3375527704823697956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3375527704823697956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/minor-so-major-iii-adoro-cuando-sin.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2350173291239638223</id><published>2008-09-14T21:23:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T23:34:02.840-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>5 pesos de propinaMientras espera para conversar consigo misma en el café de la esquina, va viviendo el Plan B de su vida.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2350173291239638223/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2350173291239638223&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2350173291239638223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2350173291239638223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/5-pesos-de-propina-mientras-se-espera.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6118506711755711762</id><published>2008-09-14T21:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:23:02.413-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Del refraneroElla es una chica inconquistable...El que quiere a Celeste que le cueste.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6118506711755711762/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6118506711755711762&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6118506711755711762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6118506711755711762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/del-refranero-ella-es-una-chica.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1854932455417436477</id><published>2008-09-14T20:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:08:24.838-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NubesSi yo te estoy explicando y vos me mirás con esos ojos, ¿Cómo pretendés que no me pierda?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1854932455417436477/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1854932455417436477&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1854932455417436477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1854932455417436477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/nubes-si-yo-te-estoy-explicando-y-vos.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5589321898554158469</id><published>2008-09-14T20:41:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T21:09:14.778-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Parada en rutaEl hecho que vos lo llames ´mi ex´ y yo aún la mencione por su nombre es una escala emocional necesaria antes que Migraciones nos de la bienvenida a nuestro país.Status: Fueling...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5589321898554158469/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5589321898554158469&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5589321898554158469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5589321898554158469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/parada-en-ruta-el-hecho-que-vos-le.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6794881077958829261</id><published>2008-09-13T20:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:10:13.765-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Guión de FuturiciónJuguemos.Juguemos a ser.Seamos jugando.Seamos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6794881077958829261/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6794881077958829261&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6794881077958829261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6794881077958829261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/guin-de-futuricin-juguemos.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8949351756587166203</id><published>2008-09-13T19:48:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:43:56.158-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>InalcanzableEl fragmento de tiempo entre que toco tu timbre y bajás es tan exacto que jugás a detener mi impaciencia mientras me colmás de ansiedad y me empalagás de deseo. Durante ese siglo de 12 pisos hacés que muera por verte.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8949351756587166203/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8949351756587166203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8949351756587166203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8949351756587166203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/inalcanzable-el-fragmento-de-tiempo.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6888379682773693553</id><published>2008-09-13T19:47:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:41:21.982-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Vuelta manzanaEste fin de semana saqué a pasear una ilusión.Tan feliz fue su vuelta que eligió quedarse escondida detrás de un árbol.Espera, ansiosa, la palmada del pica para todos los compa.Tanto como yo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6888379682773693553/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6888379682773693553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6888379682773693553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6888379682773693553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/vuelta-manzana-este-fin-de-semana-saqu.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6299372383150804244</id><published>2008-09-13T19:42:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T19:46:41.592-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>minor so Major IIMe encanta cuando te acercás a su oído y le susurrás tan bajo que las cosquillas le invaden el cuerpo y se desvanece.Se me hace un adorable juego eléctrico, no sé...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6299372383150804244/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6299372383150804244&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6299372383150804244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6299372383150804244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/minor-so-major-ii-me-encanta-cuando-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5638396800283116359</id><published>2008-09-13T19:39:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:08:58.940-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EscenariosConocerte es la desilusión o un dulce y tierno problema.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5638396800283116359/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5638396800283116359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5638396800283116359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5638396800283116359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/posibilidades-conocerte-ser-la.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3975048574233432559</id><published>2008-09-13T19:35:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:36:17.197-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Elástico... es el espacio entre ¿Te puedo hacer una pregunta? y la pregunta.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3975048574233432559/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3975048574233432559&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3975048574233432559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3975048574233432559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/elstico.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4221020650644246372</id><published>2008-09-13T19:32:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T20:13:35.997-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SismoTiemblan los 15 centímetros de distancia entre tu boca y la mía: 7.3 en la Escala de Richter.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4221020650644246372/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4221020650644246372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4221020650644246372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4221020650644246372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/09/7.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2596862431485149789</id><published>2008-08-26T08:40:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T14:53:40.541-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Expectativas15 minutos para conquistarte son pocos.Volver cuatro años atrás imposible.Agendar una terapia interactiva un poco extraño.Cerremos los ojos.Me levanté antes de lo previsto.El agua fluía más rápidamente.Elegí la ropa.Nunca lo hago.Me perfumé más que siempre.Cerré con llave entusiasmado.Paradoja.Caminé pensando en nada.Saqué boleto.Solo de ida.Pedí una birome y un Cabsha.El kioskero no </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2596862431485149789/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2596862431485149789&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2596862431485149789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2596862431485149789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/expectativas-15-minutos-para.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8043536089916203300</id><published>2008-08-21T17:14:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T17:19:40.257-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Documento Nacional de IdentidadSometida al anonimato, ella se indigna: "¿Cuándo vas a dejar de nombrarme así? ¿Acaso no tengo nombre propio?"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8043536089916203300/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8043536089916203300&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8043536089916203300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8043536089916203300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/documento-nacional-de-identidad.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2138580686138344243</id><published>2008-08-20T00:16:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T00:18:29.264-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>IncomprensiónYo no entiendo por qué te preocupas por cosas tales como el amor.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2138580686138344243/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2138580686138344243&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2138580686138344243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2138580686138344243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/incomprensin-yo-no-entiendo-por-qu-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-9007412412143819411</id><published>2008-08-17T19:51:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T19:52:53.645-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Compás con puntaLa cantidad de vueltas que damos a la plaza es proporcional al deseo que ambos tenemos de que no amanezca.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/9007412412143819411/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=9007412412143819411&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9007412412143819411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/9007412412143819411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/comps-con-punta-la-cantidad-de-vueltas.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4106435059355323478</id><published>2008-08-17T19:50:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T19:51:35.859-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QxCuando ella te plantea "Yo no soy ella" es hora de cirugía a corazón abierto.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4106435059355323478/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4106435059355323478&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4106435059355323478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4106435059355323478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/qx-cuando-ella-te-plantea-yo-no-soy.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-370799708140136205</id><published>2008-08-16T22:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T22:06:17.500-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sobre la Evidencia¿Por qué cuando te cortás el pelo la gente pregunta: ´Te cortaste el pelo?´</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/370799708140136205/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=370799708140136205&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/370799708140136205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/370799708140136205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/sobre-la-evidencia-por-qu-cuando-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4775734481850874606</id><published>2008-08-16T14:12:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T23:22:52.185-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Comptine d´un autre étéEl fragmento de tiempo entre un primer beso cercano y el roce de los labios es una comptine eterna donde jugamos a ver quién vence al azar y se anima primero.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4775734481850874606/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4775734481850874606&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4775734481850874606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4775734481850874606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/comptine-dautre-t-el-fragmento-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2290032671334314124</id><published>2008-08-16T01:47:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T11:28:40.600-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cartas al maestro ciruelaTengo pasión por el papel: El papel escrito, el papel volcado, el papel sentido, el papel que transmite más que aquello que en él está significantemente significado.Mi niño desarrollado prefiere para garabatear las hojas blancas sin restricciones. Mi adulto analítico para ordenar requiere hojas cuadriculadas que acepten cursivas imprecisas de apuntes de facultad. Las </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2290032671334314124/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2290032671334314124&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2290032671334314124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2290032671334314124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/cartas-al-maestro-ciruela-tengo-pasin.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1603118841381810952</id><published>2008-08-16T00:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T00:40:40.162-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>¿Unica o solitaria?El otro día conversamos sobre un momento único: refugiarse en las estrellas que parecen aplastarte cada vez más. Luego hiciste mención a Soledad, la canción de Drexler.Hoy, en el cielo, se ve una sola estrella.¿Que palabra elegís?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1603118841381810952/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1603118841381810952&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1603118841381810952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1603118841381810952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/unica-o-solitaria-el-otro-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6449787334640073625</id><published>2008-08-16T00:11:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T01:49:32.165-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Melodías de lo inexplicableLa madrugada que te fuiste dejaste un retoño de octubre y tu vida entera marcada en un pentagrama de un iPod de 16 Gb.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6449787334640073625/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6449787334640073625&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6449787334640073625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6449787334640073625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/melodas-de-lo-inexplicable-la-madrugada.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7741447096061601357</id><published>2008-08-15T16:26:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T16:36:43.317-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MisiónNo hace mucho tiempo coleccionaba estampillas de lugares remotos: Nicosia, Reykjavik, Cairns, Ciudad del Cabo, Helsinki, Praga, La Paz. Tan remotos como Buenos Aires para ellos.Una noche fría de enero, un alma receptora me planteó: "Tal vez tu hayas tenido que venir a dejar un mensaje. A ella y a todos nosotros. Como un cartero".¿Existe una misión en el mundo? At this time being I wonder </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7741447096061601357/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7741447096061601357&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7741447096061601357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7741447096061601357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/misin-no-hace-mucho-tiempo-coleccionaba.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8532533527748184289</id><published>2008-08-13T17:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T17:21:10.241-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Chavez, mi buen amigoQue calle ahora o hable para siempre...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8532533527748184289/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8532533527748184289&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8532533527748184289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8532533527748184289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/chavez-mi-buen-amigo-que-calle-ahora-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6238319178090002003</id><published>2008-08-12T23:16:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T00:15:32.311-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>minor so MajorMe gustan las sonrisas casuales entre dos desconocidos.Se me hacen humanas, no sé...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6238319178090002003/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6238319178090002003&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6238319178090002003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6238319178090002003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/minor-so-major-me-gustan-las-sonrisas.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2148706316095242811</id><published>2008-08-10T22:34:00.009-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T16:22:41.509-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>De relatos y percepcionesEn un principio lo intuíste. Luego te ayudé cuando salió por todos mis poros: "Vos si que sos un personaje...", sonreíste.Y yo, por primera vez en la vida, allí en los 400 con vallas donde la metáfora le pasa la posta a la linealidad, sentí desconcierto, angustia, inquietud, temor, introspección, dolor, subterfugismo, deseo de resguardo, todoesoytodojunto.Luego me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2148706316095242811/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2148706316095242811&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2148706316095242811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2148706316095242811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/de-relatos-y-percepciones-en-un.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6196386242883451401</id><published>2008-08-10T22:10:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T22:22:56.487-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SinergiaY las vidas posibles colisionaron.Luego se observaron, se sentaron a la mesa, se escucharon, se tomaron de la mano.Posteriormente se intersectaron, pidieron el mismo postre de avellanas, se mezclaron, se tantearon.Cuando caía la noche se seducieron, respiraron las mismas flores, se hablaron al oído, se tocaron, se enredaron.En lo profundo se quisieron, descansaron en la misma almohada, se</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6196386242883451401/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6196386242883451401&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6196386242883451401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6196386242883451401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/sinergia-y-las-vidas-posibles.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5588352933918895768</id><published>2008-08-06T15:59:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T00:12:13.416-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ColectoraEste espacio, que quiso ser un diario de viaje, se convierte cada vez más en una hoja de ruta, donde caminos de tierra salen a cenar con diagonales de La Plata. En tal ambivalencia conviven estas páginas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5588352933918895768/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5588352933918895768&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5588352933918895768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5588352933918895768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/colectora-este-espacio-que-quiso-ser-un.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1835096330613699823</id><published>2008-08-05T17:17:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T17:35:22.931-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ComunicarNOS dueleY también nos acerca. Y no hablo de la comunidad Movistar.(Estado de ánimo: Coldplay - Fix you - A partir de los 2´33")</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1835096330613699823/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1835096330613699823&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1835096330613699823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1835096330613699823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/08/comunicarnos-duele-y-tambin-nos-acerca.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-8090078649090638910</id><published>2008-07-30T11:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:02:53.411-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pie de páginaNo.No estoy intentando leer tu mente.Estoy queriendo leer tu alma.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/8090078649090638910/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=8090078649090638910&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8090078649090638910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/8090078649090638910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/pie-de-pgina-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-6091748429748913508</id><published>2008-07-27T17:02:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T17:55:47.031-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>El dia que empecé a odiar los aeropuertos...ó lo que es lo mismo... que me comenzaron a dar miedo.La penúltima vez que pisé un aeropuerto sentí un dolor muy grande. Los sentimientos vienen desde mucho antes, desde el 2003. Sin embargo, voy con esta fecha porque allí como un espectador externo más tuve la posibilidad de vivenciarlo a pasos cancinos.Era jueves. Era de noche. Era en Ezeiza. Una </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/6091748429748913508/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=6091748429748913508&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6091748429748913508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/6091748429748913508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/el-dia-que-empec-odiar-los-aeropuertos.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4150117920359913976</id><published>2008-07-25T00:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T00:59:09.053-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dícese de mitad de marzo a fin de mayo...Y no alcanza la brisa de hoya empujarte hasta donde estoyse precisa más que un huracánuna especie de gran aluviónDame una esperanzadecime algo más¿Por qué te escondiste?¿Y para dónde irás?Mandame una cartasi es que te acordásde aquellos díasnuestros nada más...Y luego sopló el viento sur... el sur de donde yo soy.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4150117920359913976/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4150117920359913976&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4150117920359913976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4150117920359913976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/dcese-de-mitad-de-marzo-fin-de-mayo.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1493754045733158391</id><published>2008-07-25T00:42:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T00:50:11.229-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ComunicatePersonalicemos.Atendamos y escuchemos.Valoremos y admiremos.Entendamos.Entendámonos.Generemos un punto de encuentro.Acordemos.Planeemos.Construyamos.Hagamoslo en común.Comunicarnos...Después de seis años en la facultad, asi preferí aprenderlo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1493754045733158391/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1493754045733158391&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1493754045733158391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1493754045733158391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/comunicate-personaliz.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1369419556453989705</id><published>2008-07-20T21:15:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T14:55:42.486-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Y entonces Sab dijo... Segunda f(r)ase - RevolutionsEn la escuela secundaria, sea esta matutina o vespertina y los cursos de inglés, teatro, deportes y diversas actividades, se desarrolla un extenso fragmento de la vida que nos duele: Los para mi y los para vos se visten con palabras de amor, puro enamoramiento. Nótese el detalle de la vestimenta pero no del amor impreso. Los te amo proliferan </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1369419556453989705/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1369419556453989705&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1369419556453989705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1369419556453989705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/y-entonces-sab-dijo.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-4007570307563849519</id><published>2008-07-10T14:45:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T17:57:09.973-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ConcienciaAl componer El Salmón, Calamaro ¿Pensó seriamente en la frase: "Quiero arreglar todo lo que hice mal"? A veces creo que recomponer todo lo que hicimos mal nos llevaría otra vida entera... </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/4007570307563849519/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=4007570307563849519&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4007570307563849519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/4007570307563849519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/conciencia-al-componer-el-salmn.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3678625124771643689</id><published>2008-07-10T14:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T14:45:03.999-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Indefinición¿Por qué cuando el amor se siente no se logra explicar en ningún nivel? ¿Por qué cuando el amor se deja de sentir, sea al menos en lo más profundo, se hace explicable?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3678625124771643689/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3678625124771643689&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3678625124771643689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3678625124771643689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/07/indefinicin-por-qu-cuando-el-amor-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5816119155727736770</id><published>2008-06-29T00:12:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T16:03:29.723-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Y entonces Sab dijo... Segunda f(r)ase - ReloadedEn la escuela primaria, aquellos amores del jardín de infantes, los para mí y los para vos, se bifurcan. El cambio de delantal a cuadrillé a delantal blanco generan un posicionamiento diferente ante la situación. Ya no será el espacio de cursada donde se evaluarán las posibilidades. Quizás algún papelito en doblez. O varios papelitos. O varios </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5816119155727736770/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5816119155727736770&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5816119155727736770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5816119155727736770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/y-entonces-sab-dijo_29.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2883897711230107543</id><published>2008-06-28T23:47:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T16:04:38.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>La palabra en terapia intensivaAmbos coincidimos en que era un sábado tibio y soleado. Pero eso podía afirmarlo todo el mundo.Ambos estuvimos de acuerdo en que el día era lo suficientemente lindo como para sentarnos a hablar de la vida en la plaza de algún barrio del oeste de la ciudad. O cruzando la General Paz. Pero eso podían disfrutarlo los más pequeños.Ambos reflexionamos sobre la pesadumbre</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2883897711230107543/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2883897711230107543&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2883897711230107543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2883897711230107543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/la-palabra-en-terapia-intensiva-ambos.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-2455546507075591203</id><published>2008-06-27T22:48:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T23:00:20.701-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ConfesiónMe atemoriza lo que suceda, pero lo reconozco antes que todo se haga de público conocimiento.Me espera a la salida la CIA y su batallón. Mis peones de la segunda fila preparados para los embates.Pido sólo un canal. Todo ante las cámaras de Crónica Televisión. Joha me lo advirtió: "Quiero vengarme del secuestro de mi gata".  Sí, lo confieso. Yo secuestré Hello Kitties en Colombia.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/2455546507075591203/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=2455546507075591203&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2455546507075591203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/2455546507075591203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/confesin-me-atemoriza-la-venganza-pero.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-3192736632150260013</id><published>2008-06-27T22:38:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:55:31.448-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Diccionario panhispánico de dudasCortar el mambo: v. fr. argentinismo descopulativo. Dícese de diálogos como el siguiente:-¿Que será un auto de fantasía?-Para mí es algo así como el batimóvil...-¿Y vos sos Gatúbela?-No</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/3192736632150260013/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=3192736632150260013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3192736632150260013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/3192736632150260013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/diccionario-panhispnico-de-dudas-cortar.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-1064827021684243859</id><published>2008-06-27T20:49:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T23:27:22.241-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Y entonces Sab dijo... Segunda f(r)ase"Cuando una chica es para vos, sale con fritas"En una conversación que unió traspasado, pasado, presente, sobrepresente, futuro y trasfuturo, despedimos el día de la escarapela hablando por teléfono. Y Sabri lo cerró con esta fase-frase.Primer dilema: Hay un "para uno"?. Es decir, hay un 'para vos?', hay un 'para mi?'. El primero que tiró la piedra fue </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/1064827021684243859/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=1064827021684243859&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1064827021684243859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/1064827021684243859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/y-entonces-sab-dijo.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-5817791309791199406</id><published>2008-06-27T20:38:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T20:49:19.837-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ohhhhh... cada vez son menos...En marzo del año pasado, coloqué la bandera blanca y me rendí. En mi interior y exterior supe que era por necesidad y sería algo transitorio. Y sí. Duró lo que un adorado suspiro: Dos meses y medio.Hoy sigo siendo uno de los pocos que están del otro lado de la vereda. Y lo digo sin temor.Cuando tengo que dar mi teléfono soy de aquellos que aún empiezan diciendo 4...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/5817791309791199406/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=5817791309791199406&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5817791309791199406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/5817791309791199406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/ohhhhh.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20008505.post-7129431974427620003</id><published>2008-06-25T11:30:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T11:34:23.917-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Estación PalermoUna bossanova en la tierra de los minitopos, una melodía en los momentos de oscuridad, un alivio perentorio a la angustia. Los miércoles a la mañana tienen algo después de todo. Son una droga de las que te curan, dicen por ahí.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/feeds/7129431974427620003/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20008505&amp;postID=7129431974427620003&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7129431974427620003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20008505/posts/default/7129431974427620003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxiontheroad.blogspot.com/2008/06/droga-una-bossanova-en-la-tierra-de-los.html' title=''/><author><name>Maximiliano</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13131809103267472810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bhqEewwKL78/SBpSLBcTU1I/AAAAAAAAAAU/MTcbKZa4mTg/S220/100_1378.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
