Post #32
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𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒. 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖾𝗑𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗍, 𝗇𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋, 𝗇𝗈 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀. 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾, 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾, 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖾.