Madhu Goteti
Bio
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Stories (120)
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That photo, I know !
That photo, I know ! It’s shadowy and allegoric . somewhat , a more generalized abstraction of life. There is, again , a confession that is very stark; mainly about the course of “illusive dubieties,” working through life. Even then, we appear fully grown —by joyously blending —ever so —tightly holding unto what life has to offer.
By Madhu Goteti 12 months ago in Photography
Vision: Freely associate with the Future.
One among the many of my Future goals: To Write fantasias —sci-fi fiction about the “futuristic matters and matter,” in order to parade unique logics into the future. In short -explore all “minds” inside out! For example: Here’s how I organize my thoughts ( metaphorically,) to reveal what I predict the—Future—to be . Futuristic 2025: Where the elusive allures! To a Life so loaned to other grounds A Rare Devotion, on which - relentless is found... For it's just once... only once, thro life's door -antiquity-goes begone Beholding humanity’s substance to all it’s sums; For until next to be counted upon O look ! There, all around, it’s Renaissance burgeoning on and on, Ever to be present but never to be nearly found! With transience connecting each to the other in all its forms, As elusive illusions taking turns to get totally transformed; But, for once the reborn race ranks first, Marching with those directed energies, the past, present and the future, all suffuse to be forever unbound !
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Motivation
Making History
Genuflecting 🪔 🧘♀️to make a paradigm shift into a PRO-state ( not prostate) : a swollen discovery 😅💡 … You may wonder why “Swollen-PRO-state?” Well, I would say —the essence of what I say (now,)might appear so. That’s why! Yes, I feel bloated and swollen ( definitely, not inflated nor impregnated) esp. in the context of how and why I write this utterly conspicuous and self absorptive history of my past year. My life —quite insignificant to others - doubtlessly-enables me to self access myself freely. Right about now … I am feeling the biggest release 💨of my lifetime…yes… a release from what was holding me tight —in terms of ties. Last year changing ideas of “self,” influenced me—by: 1. Periodically giving me thematic and recursive metaphors of self —as though, life was hell bent upon reconstructing me through sudden changes emerging out of the blue. I moved places—both emotionally and physically, encountering intuitive favors of Clair-sentience, as though — nothing in the world c’d ever be overlooked. 2. In the process of maintaining progressive continuity with life, I found myself ( not taken to the woods,) charting myself mystically—as though, I were a “pilgrim soul ,” transcending the fabric of life. At the soul level, it was a sort of dislocation from the self, and then, subjecting self as an object of observation. This happened automatically as I fell by my self —alone—after bidding final farewells to a few loved ones in my life. Those who left me and those whom I left behind. I stood apart to view self from those who held me dear to their hearts and whose departures left a sudden vacuum in me. This doesn’t mean I was dying to be mothered. Instead the essence of my being gasped and then, I turned inwards to free myself from me. I resisted the temptation for a while but, I yielded. My life is nothing —tantalizing. But lain aside, the process of my transformation must not be forgotten ‘coz the way I lived (deeply,) and came into terms with my dreams, makes me live a waking dream to realize the beauty in it. Ingrained in this grace comes a recounting of the views of the world rendering many dialectics. Ironically the “me in me, threatens to survive, at times! Yet, then again, I realize that change is constant. But of course, true scrutiny combined with good instincts lend themselves as guides to these soul searches. Whether mirrored directly or askewed from others, I have learnt to preclude self as a projection of them to me or me to them in imagery. After all, multitude of influences add to the subject of what we receive or perceive in mind. Yes, I believe! Here’s the nearest platitude reflected (verbatim,) in these verses …. Of a soul ridden in reckless luge Above all shades, gliding o'er these earthly dues Yea, as you and me—as you, racing incessantly, thro' n thro To be graced by good or to be resplendent—as in a nature's grove Oft overflowing thro those fountain chutes All set in transparencies like that mid-summer's luge In that —in which, resides me and you ; all mixed up like some blended hues ... O it’s so true, and as true— so ensues… O! Look! an eternal spruce …it’s so evergreen, faded —yet standing tall in the woods .. As….Verbless in time; twice born, and seen as someone new In ways, reminiscing day to day experiences, prompting me to chronicle these thoughts anew. They run through my mind as me and you!
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Motivation
Snow ❄️ Cold 🥶 and the Warmth ⛅️ in it !
How much and in how many ways am I to believe that this life is an illusive dream. Put to purpose, how and with what manifesto do we give it a meaning ; appearing, reappearing and disappearing into this “make belief,” of worldly schemes. If then, in all these settings, we are enslaved by our very own precluding ideas, hinged over every other corner of our own scourging brains — then, the greatest calamity we face is that of misplaced identity. This is a plea on behalf of humanity that’s so valiantly perches upon the cusp of the evolutionary processes that are converging towards AI simulations . Just imagine , feeling trapped inside your own mind -with ableism either overly stimulated or meagerly limited in sensing the ways of the world. It’s like “we” could be living in a contraption as a consequence of the policies of these artificially contrived environments. This is what socials ( Instas n all,) could do. Beholding human nature in such an ambiance would feel stone cold 🥶 gradually, isn’t it ! More so , becoz everything feels fake! And here’s where I dared to dwell into those icy depths ( much deeply,) last year. The most impinging query running through my cranium were these: How soon will these dark bubbles of the mind take over medium exchanges of the AI world? Will we be eventually forcing ourselves against our own individual ingenuity. ? That’s something to wait and watch ! For , it is a known saying—what is dismissed by an eye 👁️ is definitely caught by a spy. 😅 And Without any further adieu , nothing can delay this scan from one end of the eyeball to the other. Isn’t it? And what’s authentic will —anyways —show its true colors . So , let me reflect on a “stone cold state; “ a stupefaction about to be brought forward by the technological advancements of AI. Yes, AI is reaching every corner of the globe. The point that needs to be looked at more—intently is this —Can we overlook this fate without any concern ? When will this AI chaos of misplaced understandings beat the urge to do things right? Don’t you think it’s high time! What I am talking about here is the way our life may race over borrowed beliefs and the way our experiences might become shareable ( like cohorts) over a sequence of simulations. Just imagine living in a sequel of imitative emulations with individuation gone to dogs … chills , right ! That condition ! The same patterned running across dimensional planes .. Innit? Through the source of such empty declamations , what would that be in metaphors and similes … it is this …. Now I am on a different planet … it doesn’t feel like the earth ( I previously knew) anymore. I face these long spells of wintery ❄️ jitters. It’s a climate without any hope of anything breaking it’s monotony. I am left to describe how it cumulatively ,and in actuality feels like. Here, inside the mind of this —robotic species with “ neurally-linked-chipped-existence, “ it’s Cold! Besides the chills, A NICE SYNDROME is about to syndicate my existence —heretofore, on this earth as well as on other extra terrestrial planets…yes, i am referring to futuristic AI world linking inter -planetary space —both micro and macro levels —of course ! In ways , our earthly chants are at the verge of transformation. All we know —prayers could transform drastically and I shall refer it as a “ Oh- so-hum ,” decree 😅 This could be life on another planet …and I may be ( unknowingly,) already an evolved species . I c’d be living amidst mankind yet, shipped off into space ,here and there, to live gracefully -as though - safeguarded by interim fills of a totally chilled out flux states. Herein, prosecutions on thoughts c’d be brought about ,every step of the way, and preservation c’d be hung upon —a strange —warmth, borne over in the form of a “rule book policy.” Same playground politics of who’s in and who’s out of these simulated journeys. Evidently and ironically enough, imagine a soldier trying to keep up —law and order in a regime—wherein , he or she feels like this— “I catch the culprit, as I see but cannot rightly , do so,. The heart-less-ness of my Intuition c’d ration to look upon destiny , only to define it as a “realm of -consciously contrived fate .” It’s as much like doubting earnestness affixed to it. Madness across — left,right and center ! And I know 😊🧘♀️😅 what all this c’d lead into !
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Motivation
A Crystalline Wave All Around : A Groan!
The moon soars high up the ground As timbers along creeks, crackle all around And high o'er th’se black soots, a midnight lingers long And that smoke ever billowing, with wavering drifts all along, Practicing —as if—to be a loafer, with every side spearing to let it finally abscond… There, leaning on whites an abeyance ascends to raise aloft all unfound On its way out like a sublime phantom descending to astound ! O! Look! Slow in the meadows a mist silently gets out run And beneath- those rested rocks and hardened logs, a creepy cold waits upon .... And buried in the deep, many emotions have forever gone ...gone …gone © November 2021 Madhu Goteti
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Poets
A Crystalline Wave All Around : A Groan!
The moon soars high up the ground As timbers along the creeks crackle all around And high o'er th’se black soots, a midnight lingers for so long And that smoke ever billowing, with wavering drifts comes along, Practicing —as if—to be a loafer, with it’s every side spearing to let itself finally abscond… For leaning on whites, an abeyance ascends to raise —aloft—higher up the ground On it’s way out —like a sublime phantom, descending to astound !
By Madhu Goteti Exclusive • about a year ago
𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 @ Deep Sea 🌊 Oasis!
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟’𝕤 👸 𝕦𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕪. ‘𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕚𝕥. 𝕆! 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕪, 𝕆! 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕪, 𝕆! 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕪! 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕞𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟! 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟’𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕗𝕚𝕫𝕫𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣 💫 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕕, 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕪, 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤. '𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕣𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕.' “ℕ𝔼𝔼𝕌ℚ, ℕ𝔼𝔼𝕌ℚ,” 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔾ℕ𝕀𝕂..𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕩𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕞. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕, 𝕚𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕒𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕞. 𝔼𝕝𝕤𝕖, 𝕨𝕙𝕪 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 🤴 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕟 ⚰️ 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 —“𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤 💖 ✨ 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕, 𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕟!” 𝔸𝕝𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘; 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 🧹 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕪 𝕕𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕨 𝕠𝕦𝕥 ( 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕣 𝕚𝕗 𝕒𝕟𝕪,) 𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕚𝕥. (Note: 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤. ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤. 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 ..𝕆𝕦𝕣 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘 ! ℙ𝕚𝕧𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕪𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕞 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕞𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖. ℙ𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕! 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 ℕ𝔼𝔼𝕌ℚ 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕. ) 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟’𝕤 👸 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨,𝕖𝕩𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕝,𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕. ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕤 𝕧𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕. 𝕀𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕦𝕥 … ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖 …𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥 … 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣….𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕟 … 𝕋𝕙𝕖 “𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤,”𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥; 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕—𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕓𝕪 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪—𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕖𝕒 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖 …𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠’ 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠’ 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕘𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤. ☝️ 𝕊𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠… 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕚𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕝𝕥 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕣𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕒 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟 𝕦𝕟𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕪. 𝔸𝕟𝕕, 𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕣, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕥, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕔’𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕣𝕞𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖, 𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕤𝕖. 𝕊𝕠,𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕓𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 —𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕕. 𝕀𝕟 𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥, 𝕗𝕒𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 -𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕕, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕘𝕞𝕒 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤. 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕒 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕞 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕦𝕥𝕪, 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕀𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 —𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕧𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕖𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕒 𝕤𝕠𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕒 “𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕣𝕤’, 𝕧𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕘𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕦𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕣, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 , 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 ‘𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕦𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕤. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕙. 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 “𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤-𝕗𝕠𝕣-𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥.” 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕒𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕤 —𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕒𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕣 ! 𝕐𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕦𝕡 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕘𝕖 𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕤. 𝔸𝕥 𝕕𝕦𝕤𝕜 , 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠’ 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕤, 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞 ,𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤, 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝. … 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕔 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕖, 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕔𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟: 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕟𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕤. 𝔸 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟, 𝕒𝕤 she 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟; 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕦𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕓𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤, 𝕖𝕓𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕗𝕦𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤. 𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕥 : ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘—𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕘𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕞𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕨𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕪 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤. 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕚𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕕. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝, 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒 𝕤𝕪𝕞𝕓𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕔 𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕘𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕟𝕠 𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤. 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥 ,𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕤𝕖𝕦𝕕𝕠-𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕. 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕕, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤 ,𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤, 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕥, 𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕤, 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 … ℕ𝕠, 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕗 𝕒𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕔𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟- 𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 —𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤. 𝔸𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥, 𝕗𝕠𝕣 her 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕕, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕕 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕒 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟. 𝕌𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕦𝕡 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟 “𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖,” 𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖. 𝔸 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕠𝕗 —𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟 , 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪, 𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕪, 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕤𝕖𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕟𝕠 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕓𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪. 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤, 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕥𝕪 . 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 , 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕙𝕤. 𝕆𝕟𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤, 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕔 parh 𝕦𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤. 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡—𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥𝕤 -𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕖 … 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟’𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖… ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤 🧭 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕤, 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕘𝕖— 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝕃. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 —𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 — 𝕊𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕟𝕖 “𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤,” 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕪. 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕤! 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 👸 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 . ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕚𝕕𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 —𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 their 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤. 𝔸𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕛𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕪, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖. 𝔸𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤, 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 , 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 , 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕣𝕣-𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 “𝕚𝕟-𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟,” 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤. 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕤𝕞𝕠𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕪. 𝕊𝕠 𝕗𝕒𝕣 …𝕓𝕦𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕕 —𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕐𝕖𝕥 , 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕’𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣-𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕧𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕝 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕦𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤, 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕖𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕚𝕥𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤: 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕣. 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 ( 𝕓𝕪 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖,) 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕,𝕪𝕖𝕥, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕖. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕟, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕠𝕓𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 —𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕚𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕙 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤. 𝔹𝕦𝕥, 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕕𝕖 ,𝕗𝕠𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤, 𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖. 𝔸 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤. 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 🌊 ,𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕩𝕖𝕤—𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕝𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕦𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 —𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 —𝕤𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕦𝕥— 𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕦𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕝𝕪 𝕘𝕪𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕; 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕒 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖—𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕣𝕜𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕦𝕟-𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕨-𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕠𝕟. 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕡𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕕 —𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖, 𝕦𝕟-𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕪 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖. ℕ𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖, 𝕒𝕙, 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 ! 𝕆𝕟𝕥𝕠-𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟’𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖, “𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕝𝕪-𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕝𝕪,”𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕤 ( 𝕠𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕪,) 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕣 “𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟-𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕤 .” 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟’𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕦𝕡 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕧𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕘𝕖. ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕙 𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 , 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟 , 𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕕 ,𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕔𝕙—𝕓𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕝𝕝. 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟…. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 : 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤, 𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕔𝕖, 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕒𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟’𝕤 𝕧𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕤, 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕟𝕖𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤, 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤, 𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕕 𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖, 𝕚𝕝𝕝-𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 , 𝕤𝕙𝕦𝕥 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕕, 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕕 ,𝕕𝕦𝕝𝕪, 𝕚𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕪 —𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝔸𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕, 𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕! ℕ𝕠𝕨, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝 ( 𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝) 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕡 𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕤. 𝕆𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 —𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖, 𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤 . 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕡𝕦𝕫𝕫𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕦𝕘𝕤; 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕝 🌀 𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤, 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 —𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕖𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕝𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕝. 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 ,𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕣𝕙𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕞𝕤 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣; 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕧𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕞. 𝕄𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝 𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝, 𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪. 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕤𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤: “ℕ𝔼𝔼𝕌ℚ, ℕ𝔼𝔼𝕌ℚ,”𝕙𝕖𝕣 ,𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕖𝕩𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕩𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨, 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 “𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕝,” 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕪𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕔 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕤. 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖-𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟. 𝔸𝕤 𝕒 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 (𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣,) 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟 , 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝 —𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕦𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝕐𝕖𝕤, 𝕦𝕟-𝕨𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕟𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕘𝕟𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕖𝕦𝕧𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕦𝕡 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 ,𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕝𝕪, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕘 —𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕕, 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕪— 𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕒 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕣 𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 “𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤,” 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕟𝕕. 𝕍𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕖𝕕 𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪—𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖; 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕖 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕤 𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕤. 𝔸 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕤. 𝔸𝕥 𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥, 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖. ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕖 … " © ✍️ 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕥𝕚 ℕ𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟙𝟜𝕥𝕙 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟜
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Fiction
