𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧, 𝘨𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘚𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘈 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘈 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧. 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵-𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘺, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘤𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘏𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯.
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