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Racism stories of Roma people

Once upon a time there was a substance.
A liquid, but do not figure anything light or transparent comparable to its perfection the water.
Imagine an abnormal amount of such a mixture, a smelly mud, as a sea.
Indeed, an ocean.
Or, if you might visualize a greater and uglier mass, choose it, paint it in your mind.
In order that you fear it as what it is, so that you start to worry and work since the final word of this nasty story.
As an unspoken mass, ocean, sea, it also feeds on his cursed, more or less conscious, branches.
Damned rivers, which continuously flow, even now, everywhere, to the sick quest of joining others in this orgy of celebrated inhumanity.

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