#TheWarriors

[vittimenonlosiamotutti]

The Warriors (1979) - Full Intro 1080P HD HQ

[messias2049br]

"The Keatons"

[carey786]

warriors vest for sale

Looking for a Warriors vest for sale Find high-quality, authentic replicas of the iconic vest from the cult classic film The Warriors. Perfect for cosplay or collectors, these vests are designed to capture the rebellious spirit of the movie. Get yours and join the Warriors today!

[nutmeg6666]

For Fun-A-Day this year, I am watching a different movie everyday that I've never seen before, and I will subsequently make a piece of art inspired by the movie of the day.

I'm calling my Fun-A-Day 2025 project "Nutmeg's Film-A-Day"

For as many times as I've been to Coney Island, I never saw the movie "The Warriors" before this evening.

Though they are trying to get back to Coney Island and the movie focuses more on their journey and survival, I was inspired to make a collage of some of my better photos from Coney Island, and I threw a couple of Warriors symbols on the center picture.

I can't wait until my next Coney Island trip this upcoming summer. I love it there.

Fun-A-Day 1/1/2025

"Coney Collage"

[wbwest]

Readers!!!! Come out and play-ay! Yeah, that's a pretty big hint for what we're discussing this week!

[stefanrybak]

[yaikelthewarrior]

😯👌👉 próximamente.💪🏼Nuevo estreno mundial 🌎 . . . . . #reggaeton #urban #urbano #latino #miami #cubanosconflow #singer #followｍe #fallowers #música #latinmusic #latinos #conflow #thewarrior #calidad #loúltimo #cubanosporelmundo #latingrammy #trapmusic #trapcapos #estilo #flow #denbow #youtube #spotify #appelmusic #YaikelTheWarrior https://www.instagram.com/p/CrUyqRnOudJ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[byjove]

if you run a social media account about your disabled child called something like mighty[CHILD’S NAME]thewarrior and just post videos of them in distressing or potentially embarrassing situations, there is a special extra hot place in hell for you.

[asthedeathoflight]

Ajax thewarriors very sexy actually. Love it when women are crazy and love violence. You guys should listen to this musical.

[xabiramone]

‘One thing we might get out of Cyrus’ little get together is meeting some strange wool . I wouldn’t mind laying a little something down on the way back ‘

#TheWarriors

[itshouseofwarpeddesire]

#wario #thewarriors

[neon-rotomblr]

This blog has been revived as a rotomblr hub because I was running out of space for sideblogs. Most interactions will come from @neon-angels-system, not here.

Want asks from my muses? Reblog this post!

Rotomblr blogs under the cut.

Current active blogs:

@pharmamon: Apapane, pharmacist intern, essentially a self-insert. My main rotomblr blog. @pokedrug: Cane, pharmacy tech, inverse of Apapane. Bitchy motherfucker. I love him. @stonefur-warriorskitty: Cane again, but as a kid. Warrior Skitty RP blog. Exists to torment Cane. @gardengnostic-fell: Jade Harley faller blog! She's still in her introductory phase, pinned post will be added when she's settled in.

WIP blogs:

@thewarrior-fell: OC faller blog. @theguide-fell: OC faller blog. @themage-fell: OC faller blog

[ms-boogie-man]

☦︎17TolucaLake☦︎

theWarrior

[penny-slaying]

||TheWarrior|| Does your muse have a true purpose? What do they stand for? What are they willing to rise in the name of?

Ironically... she doesn't.

For all Penny's open and outright commitment to the Sabbat, she joined the sect out of fear and desperation. She "stood for" escaping from her sire's legacy; she "rose for" her own continued existence when her archbishop Yvette made it clear she couldn't just coast along as a no-mark priestess of an entrenched pack. What was unleashed during the conquest of Tuscon and the raids on Phoenix frightened and surprised Penny as much as it did anyone else, and she's been shaken down to her roots and had to find a purpose very quickly.

What she found at the bottom, with her ghosts and her shadows, was all that was left. Death, and the Soul. What she'd done, and what was left afterwards. Penny's climb back from the brink has been an exercise in applied curiosity. Fixing herself, becoming sane again, demands interrogation: unravelling some tricky metaphysical knots that she can't just cut with incisive, decisive action. That's what got her into this mess in the first place.

Ultimately, Penny is selfish. Fear of her maker, and despair in the face of the Beast, are the prime movers in her character. External ideals - things one might act "in the name of" - are just handholds for her, on her long climb out of the grave she's dug herself.

[celaenastories]

⠀⠀⠀             ᠁ "𝗢𝗧𝗥𝗔 𝗘́𝗣𝗢𝗖𝗔". ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀      🝐 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 - - 𐐿 ⠀  #thewarrior ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯ ─ ⋯─ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀              𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘐𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘢— 1904. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𝖫𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗓𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗎́𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎́𝗇 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗂𝖻𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗓𝖺𝖻𝖺. 𝖥𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌𝖾́ 𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗂 𝖼𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗆𝗂́𝗇𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝗈́𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾́ 𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗈𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂́. 𝖳𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝗂 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈, 𝗍𝖺𝗇... 𝗅𝗎́𝗀𝗎𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺. 𝖤𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗌 𝖠́𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗅 𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖺; 𝖺𝗊𝗎𝗂́, 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈. ¿𝖣𝗈́𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈?

𝖬𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖺, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗎́𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝗂́𝖺𝗌, 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝗈... 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌. 𝖳𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂́𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗎𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈́𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗓𝖺, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾, 𝗈 𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗒 𝗒𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇̃𝖺𝗌. 𝖭𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝗂𝗎𝖽��𝖽, 𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺́𝗌, 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗂́𝖼𝗂𝗅 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝗎 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌.

𝖰𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝖺 𝗒, 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾, 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗃𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗁𝗂́ 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾́ 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂́𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗈; 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗎́𝗇, 𝖼𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝗃𝖾́ 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺, 𝗉𝖾𝗀𝗎𝖾́ 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖺. 𝖣𝗈𝗌 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖼𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗂 𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗂́𝖺. 𝖥𝗎𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗒 𝖾𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗈́ 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗓𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈. 𝖠𝗌𝗂́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾́ 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗂𝖻𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗃𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗂́𝗈 𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗎𝖻𝗋𝗂́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗂́𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗆𝗈, 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖺𝗇̃𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗈.

"𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭", 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺́𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺, 𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗂́𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗎𝗇 𝗉𝗈𝖼𝗈. 𝖠𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝗇𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗂́, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗎𝖾́𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈, ¿𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖺? 𝖣𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗂́ 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗂́𝖺𝗌 𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗃𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖺́𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗌𝗂́ 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖾́ 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗏𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗍𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋. 𝖡𝗎𝗌𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖡𝗎𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺. 𝖬𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗇̃𝗈, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈... ¿𝖼𝗈́𝗆𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖺?

𝖲𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗂́ 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗎́𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖽𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗈 𝗆𝖺́𝗌, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺𝗇 𝗏𝖺𝖼𝗂́𝖺𝗌 𝗒 𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗈, 𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗈 𝗇𝗈 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗈́ 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖺𝖽𝗈. 𝖠 𝗅𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗃𝗈𝗌, 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈́ 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗓 𝖾𝗇𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗈́ 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋. ¿𝖣𝗈́𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈? 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝖾́ 𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗒 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗎𝖺𝗃𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗀𝗋𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗈𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈. 𝖠𝗆𝖻𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗀𝗋𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖻𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗂́. 𝖤𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗇̃𝗈𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝗒 𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗈. 𝖭𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗓𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝗒 𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗇̃𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗈 𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗈́𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗌. 𝖫𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗆𝗂́.

𝖬𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗈́𝗇 𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗈́, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖺𝗌𝗂́ 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂́𝖺 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺. 𝖠𝖻𝗋𝗂́ 𝗅𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝖼𝖺 𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗎𝖽𝖾𝖾́ 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗈́.

– 𝗦𝗲𝗻̃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗮 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀, 𝗹𝗮 𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝗽𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮 𝗹𝗮 𝗰𝗶𝘂𝗱𝗮𝗱.

𝖫𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖾́ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗂𝖽𝖺. 𝖣𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖺́𝗌, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖾́𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗋𝖺́𝗉𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗃𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾, 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗃𝖾𝗍𝗈́ 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺𝗒𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗋.

– 𝗦𝘂𝗯𝗮, 𝗹𝗮 𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗲́ 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗱�� 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗲. 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹 𝗮́𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮́ 𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝗹𝘃𝗼. 𝗘𝘀𝘁𝗮́𝗯𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘀 𝗺𝘂𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗼𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 – 𝖺𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗈́ 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈́𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖺. 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝗒 𝗇𝗂 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺. 𝖰𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗌, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗇𝗎𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗃𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖽𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗈.

𝖭𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗃𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂́ 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗓𝖺, 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗅 𝗉𝖾𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎́𝗉𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗓𝖺. 𝖤𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗇̃𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈́ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝗂 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗈́ 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖺, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗌𝗂 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂́𝖺. 𝖲𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝖾𝗅 𝖽𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗇̃𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗂́𝗈.

𝖴𝗇𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗓 𝖼𝗈́𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗎𝖺𝗃𝖾, 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗌. 𝖯𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖾́ 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗅 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗓𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗓𝖺𝗋𝗂́𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝗌 𝗋𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝖽𝗂́𝖺, 𝗒 𝖾𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗃𝗈. 𝖳𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗌 𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗒𝗈. 𝖤𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗈́ 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗈𝖿𝗋𝗂́𝗈𝗌.

– ¿𝗗𝗼́𝗻𝗱𝗲 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘀? – 𝖬𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗆𝖾́ 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗈 𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈.

– 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝗲𝗻̃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗮.

[...]

𝖭𝗈 𝗌𝖾́ 𝖼𝗎𝖺́𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗊𝗎𝖾, 𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗈, 𝖼𝖺𝗂́ 𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗇̃𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗈. 𝖠𝖻𝗋𝗂́ 𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗈𝗃𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗈 𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗓𝖺 𝗒 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗂 𝖼𝗎𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗂́𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂́, 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗆𝗈 𝗅𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋, 𝗒 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗎𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗇̃𝗈 𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗈. 𝖭𝗈𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗏𝗂𝗆𝗈𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗒 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺. 𝖤𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗈́ 𝗆𝗂 𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺 𝗒 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗒𝗎𝖽𝗈́ 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗃𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗓𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗎́𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗓𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗒 𝖾𝗅 𝗏𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾, 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗆𝗂́𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗌.

𝖢𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂́𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋, 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗃𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖽𝖺. 𝖭𝗎𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾, 𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺/𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗈́, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗇𝗈 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖺... 𝗇𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈, 𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇̃𝗂́ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗂́ 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝗋𝖺́𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗂𝗈́𝗇 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈.

–𝗟𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗻̃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗮 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮 𝗹𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼– 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗃𝗈 𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾́𝗌 𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗓𝖺𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋. "𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢" 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗈́ 𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗂 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾. 𝖤𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖾. ¿𝖤𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖺?

𝖮𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂́ 𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗎 𝖺𝗆𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽, 𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾́ 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝖽𝖺𝗌. 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂́𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂́𝖺 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗈́𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂́ 𝗒 𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝖾𝖽𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝖻𝗂́𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖽𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖺́𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗓𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽. 𝖲𝗂 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗂́𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅, 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂́𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾; 𝗇𝗈 𝗂𝖻𝖺 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺 𝗎́𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗓, 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗎𝖾́𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈.

𝖭𝗈 𝗍𝗎𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗈, 𝗒𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺́𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗌𝗂 𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖽𝖺. 𝖬𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁𝗂́𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗈 𝖺𝗅 𝖨𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖫𝗈𝗌 𝖠́𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝖺́𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖺 𝗒 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾.

𝖤𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾́ 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺, 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂́, 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗌𝖺 𝗒 𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝗂́𝖺, 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖺. ¿𝖳𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗂́𝖺? 𝖥𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂́ 𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝖾𝗇̃𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝖼𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗈𝗌 𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖽𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗈́ 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗈, 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗈́ 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾.

–𝗕𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗱𝗮 𝗮𝗹 𝗮𝗻̃𝗼 𝟭𝟵𝟬𝟰, 𝗘𝗺𝗺𝗮– 𝖽𝗂𝗃𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝗏𝗈𝗓 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖺. 𝖱𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝖽𝗂́ 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝖾𝗇̃𝗈 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝗈 𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾́ 𝗅𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂́.

𝖣𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺́𝗌 𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗎 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗅𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝖼𝗈́ 𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗂́𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗅𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆𝖺 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈. 𝖢𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗂́ 𝗒 𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂́ 𝗌𝗎 𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖺𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗌𝗈𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂́𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗂́, 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺.

𝖲𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗏𝗈 𝖺 𝗎𝗇𝗈𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇̃𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗇̃𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈 𝗒 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈́ 𝖽𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝖼��𝖻𝖾𝗓𝖺.

–𝗦𝗼𝘆 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮, 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘆𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗶𝗱𝗼 𝗱𝗲 𝗺𝗶́. 𝗛𝗲 𝗱𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗮́ 𝘁𝘂 𝗲́𝗽𝗼𝗰𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗮, 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝘂 𝗮𝘆𝘂𝗱𝗮.