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Stories to think about terrorism

Not in my name.
I would shout out loud that listening to those who, like vultures with beaks always pointed to the most defenseless people on earth, do not fail to tear the formidable monster designed by the lords of the news.
And never satisfied, they are ready to snap any prey that might in some way be dragged in.
In the pot.

Not in my name.
I might even record it on my forehead and all those who regularly are assimilated into the soothing mask of the enemy that we are making every day more and more large.
Then the next day I will regret it, because it would test even my failure, as if the force of fear resided as much in the foolishness of the vile as the weakness of the persecuted.

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