𝘔𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘮ó𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘢. 𝘔𝘦𝘶 𝘷í𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵é𝘳𝘪𝘰, 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘴ó 𝘩á 𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯ç𝘢- 𝘦 𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘮 𝘥𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘰, 𝘯ã𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵â𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘢. 𝘌𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘯ã𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘯ã𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘦 𝘯ã𝘰 𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘰.
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