Idos de 2005. Como de costume, resolvi abandonar aquela laboriosa tarde enfurnado em sala de aula, e trocá-la pela “escotilha” escura e sufocante que era o meu quarto naquela época. No caminho para casa, travava-se um duelo em minha consciência: parte dela mantinha-se serena e encorajava-me a deixar a escola sem remorso; a outra, assinalava-me […]
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