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𝖤𝗎 𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗈. 𝖬𝖺𝗌 𝗇ã𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗈 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗎 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗅𝗁𝗈 𝖾 𝖾𝗀𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗃𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾. 𝖤𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗈 𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗌 e 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝖾, 𝗈𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗇ã𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗈 𝗈 𝗆í𝗇𝗂𝗆𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗆 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎é𝗆, 𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗂𝗇á𝗋𝗂𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗈. 𝖯𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝖺, 𝗅á 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗎 𝖺 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗋-𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁ã𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖾, 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗈, 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺.

𝖢𝗈𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗎 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾, 𝗌𝗎𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗉𝖺𝖼‌ã𝗈 𝗆ú𝗍𝗎𝖺, 𝗌𝗎𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾, 𝖺𝗍é 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗆𝗈 𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗍â𝗇𝖾𝗈𝗌.

𝖤𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗈, 𝗇ã𝗈 𝗌ã𝗈 𝖺𝗌 ú𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾. 𝖠𝗁, 𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗎 𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖺 𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾ç𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗍é 𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝗌í 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗆𝗈. 𝖭ã𝗈 é 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎é𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗍𝖺 𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗋 𝖽𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗆𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗆. 𝖤 𝗇ã𝗈 é 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎é𝗆 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺, 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗃𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖻 𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖾. 𝖭ã𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗈 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗋, 𝗇𝖾𝗆 𝗉ô𝗋.

𝖤𝗎 𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗈.

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