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Human rights stories: war crime in Syria

My name is Ali, I was born at the beginning of the third millennium and I am, was, sixteen years old.
Forever.
Equally, for every day to come, I will be Ali who won.
I started to defeat enemies that would dwarf adults everywhere, even with voice amplified by "keyboard cockiness" and "couch arrogance", since I was just eleven.
The war erupted, at that time, as usual.
Synthesized and shredded on newspaper good for fish and chip without even waiting for the next day, crumbled and reassembled in images and videos whose only special effect is the convenient likelihood.

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