Pride and humility, they are on the same page, on days of silence
they share, in the wooden library.
Greek slang meets French along with English way of speech
too many cooks in one head I have become swelled,
a parvenu, caught in my own gone spell
I have lost my touch and No I have felt not
because Humility tonight speaks in dis-drain,,
The Down of the wheel has led myself astray,,,
into a grande damme, a peacock, that wants to speak all the same:
"when you look at her she will not speak,
when you shall caress her soul then she sings"
I forgot that if you remember
that you forgot you do escape doomsday
with a bit of foolish rhyme and rocks to walk removed from my favorite bay
I jump on ghosts of souless sand and sea-spray...
Now remember what it was to be when it was a young day
Foolish and astray I mispell my present say
but now I shall believe the older and in the oldest day
where I my rock removed from sea to stop the wave.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
wading in limen in wonder
You are alone. Some times.
ANd yet not. There is you. Me.
I am telling you that what matters is not that you are.
What matters is the times you wake up from the dream you are not.
But you are not. And are. And I. I am a fake or a true force within you
that tells you what you want. And what you want changes with seconds
and you want you back and you never return the same second as the previous one back.
And that which you love shines it is your little game, not a consolation, a game that you know how to play very well with words, and you shall juggle them
into the right mode of lonely less
there is love beyond language and there is no word for it
and for that reason alone you may me smile.
ANd yet not. There is you. Me.
I am telling you that what matters is not that you are.
What matters is the times you wake up from the dream you are not.
But you are not. And are. And I. I am a fake or a true force within you
that tells you what you want. And what you want changes with seconds
and you want you back and you never return the same second as the previous one back.
And that which you love shines it is your little game, not a consolation, a game that you know how to play very well with words, and you shall juggle them
into the right mode of lonely less
there is love beyond language and there is no word for it
and for that reason alone you may me smile.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
I am afraid of speed Take two (Experiment)
The road is empty. We get back on the main. I did not notice.
Road after taking the wrong turn. the breath of on my face.
You press the gas.rooftop sky.
Found on the end of the road I was looking at 10 seconds ago.
the fear we would always die.
Stop. I am tired. sidewalk.
In that case we may return. I did not notice the faces that will notice me.
I do not want to return. In a hole.
I still want to go. I can't take speed. In a whole in you.
I never was one to lose control. you not being there at all.
I never was one to let things out of my hands, a crack in the wall
except when it was not up to my hands.
I want it slow because it goes so fast. the fire still burning down on me.
I want it fast only when I have had too much to drink. a hole in you.
I want it fast when there is no one else. not real, not true, not me, not you
Yet I want the control, I want to win when I lose when I look it is all I see
and I want to adore, adore Life.
Road after taking the wrong turn. the breath of on my face.
You press the gas.rooftop sky.
Found on the end of the road I was looking at 10 seconds ago.
the fear we would always die.
Stop. I am tired. sidewalk.
In that case we may return. I did not notice the faces that will notice me.
I do not want to return. In a hole.
I still want to go. I can't take speed. In a whole in you.
I never was one to lose control. you not being there at all.
I never was one to let things out of my hands, a crack in the wall
except when it was not up to my hands.
I want it slow because it goes so fast. the fire still burning down on me.
I want it fast only when I have had too much to drink. a hole in you.
I want it fast when there is no one else. not real, not true, not me, not you
Yet I want the control, I want to win when I lose when I look it is all I see
and I want to adore, adore Life.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Love of scratch (Take 1)
To love the scratch means to love the freedom of blank.
To come to the end and start again to me it means so much.
So much as the sound of the next word that will come to my fingertips uninvited
so much as the vowels and consonants kiss each other when I tell them to.
It is my passion, I forget it and leave it and it haunts me back again
it is a lover I cannot escape and a lover that makes everything terrestrial to forsake...
The passion of people meeting with each other and their sounds and meanings making a new meaning like these very words hanging out tonight on a white screen of black symbols.
The meeting after a long time becomes even more passionate and lustful
and I give you a stupid stupid metaphor to describe the noesis that
some of us desire to experience as we travel,
travel,
travel and long
to see further than this horizon...
To come to the end and start again to me it means so much.
So much as the sound of the next word that will come to my fingertips uninvited
so much as the vowels and consonants kiss each other when I tell them to.
It is my passion, I forget it and leave it and it haunts me back again
it is a lover I cannot escape and a lover that makes everything terrestrial to forsake...
The passion of people meeting with each other and their sounds and meanings making a new meaning like these very words hanging out tonight on a white screen of black symbols.
The meeting after a long time becomes even more passionate and lustful
and I give you a stupid stupid metaphor to describe the noesis that
some of us desire to experience as we travel,
travel,
travel and long
to see further than this horizon...
Sunday, June 14, 2009
utter
To utter,
You are in a room. You live with the objects of the room. You take it for granted that the objects of the room are supposed to be in the room. Like you take for granted of a metaphor.
Because we are supposed to know what transfer means.To transfer the meaning onto something else that looks like it in a simpler or untold (of) way. You take it for granted because it is there in language and thus it has been said. But it has not.
And so I choose, in an afternoon when I do not remember whether I have slept really or not,or spend the night with eyes closed without escaping to a world of unsconsiousness to consciously get out of the room.
I hover over it. And look at the objects that are alike and those are supposed not to exist or to exist because we demand that they do. I quiver at loss and am enthuzed by birth. I hover over. Over the room and over sleep.
I utter simple words in search of utter...pleasure or achievement.
Whether pleasure in achievement or achievement in my pleasure I figured it does not really matter, so long as I am blessed to hover over ...
and that allows me to relish in the utter...
an adjetive that may fit everything...
You are in a room. You live with the objects of the room. You take it for granted that the objects of the room are supposed to be in the room. Like you take for granted of a metaphor.
Because we are supposed to know what transfer means.To transfer the meaning onto something else that looks like it in a simpler or untold (of) way. You take it for granted because it is there in language and thus it has been said. But it has not.
And so I choose, in an afternoon when I do not remember whether I have slept really or not,or spend the night with eyes closed without escaping to a world of unsconsiousness to consciously get out of the room.
I hover over it. And look at the objects that are alike and those are supposed not to exist or to exist because we demand that they do. I quiver at loss and am enthuzed by birth. I hover over. Over the room and over sleep.
I utter simple words in search of utter...pleasure or achievement.
Whether pleasure in achievement or achievement in my pleasure I figured it does not really matter, so long as I am blessed to hover over ...
and that allows me to relish in the utter...
an adjetive that may fit everything...
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
when you cannot see your heart
Haha...No...Let not go...To lose it means you played.
The play YOU choose. hey and the outcome, too, NO, Two.
The words are small tonight, the words are tiny. The heart is shrunk,
the heart forgets, No, the brain does, the heart hurts.
It hurts it hurts to speak to be for being means the heart in pain is reality.
Believe the brain you shall forsake disdain then you must sell your soul
to another Play, and the words shall come closer to console
but you must lose for momentary loss shall be your saviour
to believe the Heart
and when you cannot see your heart tells your brain what to show your eyes...
The play YOU choose. hey and the outcome, too, NO, Two.
The words are small tonight, the words are tiny. The heart is shrunk,
the heart forgets, No, the brain does, the heart hurts.
It hurts it hurts to speak to be for being means the heart in pain is reality.
Believe the brain you shall forsake disdain then you must sell your soul
to another Play, and the words shall come closer to console
but you must lose for momentary loss shall be your saviour
to believe the Heart
and when you cannot see your heart tells your brain what to show your eyes...
Monday, May 11, 2009
i party you business love party you
I love you, you love me and life is true in no need of similie.
and what about bread, and what about the bare necessity?
it all is born through two parties spilling wine on wintered skin.
Give me business, give me meaning for I love and have the will to live.
The glass door closes but my friend and I do know we may break from words
that linger in minutes that burn with no necessity.
because we love, because we fly because we know that in our hearts we have
that sigh
that sigh of love, that sigh of work, that sigh of bye
we have no reservation with the word "fuck off"..
but we speak kind though we speak true and yet we manage to lie in truth
because we lay in calls prolonged or contracts that could never have been signed off
but still we love, and yes we love, each other, those two men and the world too,
believe we do...
maybe we will party, maybe we will do business
surely we shall fly... we have been flying
this year much higher is what we are trying..
and what about bread, and what about the bare necessity?
it all is born through two parties spilling wine on wintered skin.
Give me business, give me meaning for I love and have the will to live.
The glass door closes but my friend and I do know we may break from words
that linger in minutes that burn with no necessity.
because we love, because we fly because we know that in our hearts we have
that sigh
that sigh of love, that sigh of work, that sigh of bye
we have no reservation with the word "fuck off"..
but we speak kind though we speak true and yet we manage to lie in truth
because we lay in calls prolonged or contracts that could never have been signed off
but still we love, and yes we love, each other, those two men and the world too,
believe we do...
maybe we will party, maybe we will do business
surely we shall fly... we have been flying
this year much higher is what we are trying..
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
sex inscribed on body
They . are all habits. We learn to do. Do we learn to love or pretend to know love?
We learn to show the love. The smile, the happiness like a pill swallowed which has fulfilled its purpose.
Funny. What seemed like the fairy.. tale was stupid and cemented, for me not. And what seemed untrue- unreal -undrinkable, unedible is the piece that completes my puzzle.
Yes. The princess is never a happy one in fact. She marries a prince, the one who is meant for her. Those unions of no meaning to those who impose them are those which mean love to me.
That picture or that outing to show we are good and this is how the story is good.Who cares I ask? Most people actually do. Whether yes or no, the truth is anyhow, my world, you.
The beat, the door, has opened in my you, and I
feel apple, feel open to exude you and against
all cracks of uncertainty of hollywood dew.
flex, breathe, flex breathe
and nurture that nature
of love.
We learn to show the love. The smile, the happiness like a pill swallowed which has fulfilled its purpose.
Funny. What seemed like the fairy.. tale was stupid and cemented, for me not. And what seemed untrue- unreal -undrinkable, unedible is the piece that completes my puzzle.
Yes. The princess is never a happy one in fact. She marries a prince, the one who is meant for her. Those unions of no meaning to those who impose them are those which mean love to me.
That picture or that outing to show we are good and this is how the story is good.Who cares I ask? Most people actually do. Whether yes or no, the truth is anyhow, my world, you.
The beat, the door, has opened in my you, and I
feel apple, feel open to exude you and against
all cracks of uncertainty of hollywood dew.
flex, breathe, flex breathe
and nurture that nature
of love.
Monday, April 06, 2009
The word I am choosing is heterology
Heterology,
When one woman does not correspond to the bag of the other, rather, the beige and brown square pattern of her brain.
When one man chooses silicone roundness over feeling well in one's skin even if it is another's.
The joy is too good, the joy is too bad when you relish in knowing what others do not.
Different origins may be the explanation but what if we had the chance to meet at a point?
The rivers run, the rivers meet, the rivers leave, the rivers carry.
To love in true colours generally is good sometimes too blurry for those purposes of what we call " the material life."
And let those who cannot write write, and let those who should not show her face show.
And hide the beauty in places that protect it. and show it because there are some who can still and will see it.
the words, stupid, will burn with the laptop in some centuries, the papers will wither in dust but the DNA-smart... will keep on going ..keep on loving truly for ever and ever.
When one woman does not correspond to the bag of the other, rather, the beige and brown square pattern of her brain.
When one man chooses silicone roundness over feeling well in one's skin even if it is another's.
The joy is too good, the joy is too bad when you relish in knowing what others do not.
Different origins may be the explanation but what if we had the chance to meet at a point?
The rivers run, the rivers meet, the rivers leave, the rivers carry.
To love in true colours generally is good sometimes too blurry for those purposes of what we call " the material life."
And let those who cannot write write, and let those who should not show her face show.
And hide the beauty in places that protect it. and show it because there are some who can still and will see it.
the words, stupid, will burn with the laptop in some centuries, the papers will wither in dust but the DNA-smart... will keep on going ..keep on loving truly for ever and ever.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
fireworks in where?
Fire works in an unexpected way... flames up where you thought sea breezes would dance...
A horoscope is all to blame.. the way your scope counts back time..look back and you shall turn to stone...
and then on a foggy day you may see down the road of your windscreen the full times you have lived and did not know they would later come back to love you...
when the sky is clear it is too clear to see the love of clear...
but fog always brings love, love for what you cannot have ... for what you had and what you have always..love..
fireworks in my heart...
they blame a fat valve for my fast heartbeat. I never knew I was a multi-valve BMW of heart...
It turns out I am a sport Turbo Nitro multi-valve quite a lot of horses heart..
catch me if you can... my heart is unbeatable because it beats so fast and there is a little pill we call in Greek "hapi" a pink pill in fact that slows it down...
but too much of it... I was warned may stop it forever...
so let us have little by little.. because when it all of its power affects those neurons of heart... the heart stops....
hopefully by then I will have left another heart to beat as fast for me and the world...
A horoscope is all to blame.. the way your scope counts back time..look back and you shall turn to stone...
and then on a foggy day you may see down the road of your windscreen the full times you have lived and did not know they would later come back to love you...
when the sky is clear it is too clear to see the love of clear...
but fog always brings love, love for what you cannot have ... for what you had and what you have always..love..
fireworks in my heart...
they blame a fat valve for my fast heartbeat. I never knew I was a multi-valve BMW of heart...
It turns out I am a sport Turbo Nitro multi-valve quite a lot of horses heart..
catch me if you can... my heart is unbeatable because it beats so fast and there is a little pill we call in Greek "hapi" a pink pill in fact that slows it down...
but too much of it... I was warned may stop it forever...
so let us have little by little.. because when it all of its power affects those neurons of heart... the heart stops....
hopefully by then I will have left another heart to beat as fast for me and the world...
Friday, November 21, 2008
love lives in your navel
Glad like a Grand ball to be first danced.
Laughed like the trickle of water that wets you there where you do not expect!
Walked miles and miles far away from home and did what was not done before in that same old cemented road of gloom.
stripped of nakedness up metal stairs running for our lives escaping our death
trembled like when it was cut that cord which you think that you cannot live without.
Returned from what was cut and after years it does not hurt anymore.
The navel that connects you to life. The navel destined to cut your habit of first water breaths.
Cut but it does not hurt anymore, the navel of earth has shifted center of heart...
The navel that now is tickled only by your heart. The navel that does not hurt anymore.
Because I have learnt to breathe. Because I have learnt to live outside the womb that left me alone.
Because I have cut the cord of surviving on my own.
Laughed like the trickle of water that wets you there where you do not expect!
Walked miles and miles far away from home and did what was not done before in that same old cemented road of gloom.
stripped of nakedness up metal stairs running for our lives escaping our death
trembled like when it was cut that cord which you think that you cannot live without.
Returned from what was cut and after years it does not hurt anymore.
The navel that connects you to life. The navel destined to cut your habit of first water breaths.
Cut but it does not hurt anymore, the navel of earth has shifted center of heart...
The navel that now is tickled only by your heart. The navel that does not hurt anymore.
Because I have learnt to breathe. Because I have learnt to live outside the womb that left me alone.
Because I have cut the cord of surviving on my own.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
when you 're playing with desire you can easily get on my fire...
I have never been amazed about how a song can actually inspire you.
Because it can, because words can, because love happens, because chords inside get struck.
I have been amazed about how people may affect a chord inside you and cause you the most negative energy. They have such an effect that they change your syntax from impersonal to personal. But there is always a catch in the catch that you throw to trap others.
too too soon... it is not all that.... because that is what writing is about... put the other across your screen... through your screen... the certainty that the energized power within me is dangling out is ha... certain
You have a choice... you can either "get stupid" and do what that one tells you you should do to get the money.. the carrot has been thrown and will you catch?
The time to throw the carrot for that one who tells others what to do... has come...
It will be hard, it will be devastating but if we are afraid now what good is it to live and not feel...you might as well be dead...
So throw your own carrot to your own dictator...
Dictating used to be fun... let us make it again what it used to be...
ours...
Because it can, because words can, because love happens, because chords inside get struck.
I have been amazed about how people may affect a chord inside you and cause you the most negative energy. They have such an effect that they change your syntax from impersonal to personal. But there is always a catch in the catch that you throw to trap others.
too too soon... it is not all that.... because that is what writing is about... put the other across your screen... through your screen... the certainty that the energized power within me is dangling out is ha... certain
You have a choice... you can either "get stupid" and do what that one tells you you should do to get the money.. the carrot has been thrown and will you catch?
The time to throw the carrot for that one who tells others what to do... has come...
It will be hard, it will be devastating but if we are afraid now what good is it to live and not feel...you might as well be dead...
So throw your own carrot to your own dictator...
Dictating used to be fun... let us make it again what it used to be...
ours...
Monday, October 06, 2008
Can you I be really unstoppable?
Physically yes, visualization stops, dance vibration is non-visible to the human eye.
Internally,
whether in the soul depends on the weather of the soul. Do you have antennas that are genetically programmed to receive every single stimulation? If you are asked to cut and you cut can you forget you once parted with something?
whether in the beats of the heart that tells you it is working overtime every morning your foot presses on the gas screaming the emergency silently in your eyes on the road the emergency to be there to smile and say Goodmorning ( smile) let us try again to pretend we like what we do and of course we are here to help.... such a delightful job... who would be in it for the money?
whether in the O2 breathed in and out when you sit down on your office chair breathe the smoke burn some lung cells and drink the coffe of non-existence.
whether in the electrodes of the grey matter you were blessed with, now who can we find who can be convinced that they need help?
Or rather the question is who can I make think that they need me?
I am not unstoppable...you can stop me for a second and make me wonder.. .
Now after I have wondered....I have decided to take off from that plannet of BOTHER: "GET STUPID GET STUPID DONT STOP"
You can only be unstoppable in a world of WONDER>
Internally,
whether in the soul depends on the weather of the soul. Do you have antennas that are genetically programmed to receive every single stimulation? If you are asked to cut and you cut can you forget you once parted with something?
whether in the beats of the heart that tells you it is working overtime every morning your foot presses on the gas screaming the emergency silently in your eyes on the road the emergency to be there to smile and say Goodmorning ( smile) let us try again to pretend we like what we do and of course we are here to help.... such a delightful job... who would be in it for the money?
whether in the O2 breathed in and out when you sit down on your office chair breathe the smoke burn some lung cells and drink the coffe of non-existence.
whether in the electrodes of the grey matter you were blessed with, now who can we find who can be convinced that they need help?
Or rather the question is who can I make think that they need me?
I am not unstoppable...you can stop me for a second and make me wonder.. .
Now after I have wondered....I have decided to take off from that plannet of BOTHER: "GET STUPID GET STUPID DONT STOP"
You can only be unstoppable in a world of WONDER>
Monday, December 24, 2007
Craze of Heart
red is the heart that pumps the blood
red is the vibration beeping the neurons in the brain
stupid fish.
stupid fish.
blue is the water of the inspiration
blue is the sadness of the creation.
purple is the varnish that covers fingers
purple is the shiver that colds the skin.
Look at nothing and buy nothing.
red is the vibration beeping the neurons in the brain
stupid fish.
stupid fish.
blue is the water of the inspiration
blue is the sadness of the creation.
purple is the varnish that covers fingers
purple is the shiver that colds the skin.
Look at nothing and buy nothing.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
the kiss of Life
The big miracle. Wow/
Paranoid about the Big to come. The Big reappears in sound.
Picture seems to have lost itself these days. Effects have taken over.
Words and ears are overworking these days before the Big change.
you jump on a sleigh and roll down the hills of the unexpected break-downn.
Once you break down then everything becomes simple. You know what to do.
Take my instructions and tear them apart. I only follow them if somebody pays me.
When they come without a reward I just float around in fantasy.
I listen to it again and again in case I understand the voice.
Just in case I fall in love with myself, just incase I realize that I am alive.
Do we really know that we are alive and what it means to be THAT?
Welcome to life and put all of your efforts to kiss it wildly
even if that kiss lasts one millisecond in your mind, in your eyes
or rather buzzing in your ears.
Paranoid about the Big to come. The Big reappears in sound.
Picture seems to have lost itself these days. Effects have taken over.
Words and ears are overworking these days before the Big change.
you jump on a sleigh and roll down the hills of the unexpected break-downn.
Once you break down then everything becomes simple. You know what to do.
Take my instructions and tear them apart. I only follow them if somebody pays me.
When they come without a reward I just float around in fantasy.
I listen to it again and again in case I understand the voice.
Just in case I fall in love with myself, just incase I realize that I am alive.
Do we really know that we are alive and what it means to be THAT?
Welcome to life and put all of your efforts to kiss it wildly
even if that kiss lasts one millisecond in your mind, in your eyes
or rather buzzing in your ears.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Etched on my pupils
Etched on my pupils is my journey
Some looked but looked for something else
Some looked and bounced back on the screen
Some looked when they were looking for nothing.
Random is how those people who predict work
State a couple of possible words and one may fit
and then you may get hit.
here I am: I listen to what happened to another
and know it was mine.
I speak myself truly and do not mention
that is because I speak myself truly
To myself I do not recall any any tension.
Some looked but looked for something else
Some looked and bounced back on the screen
Some looked when they were looking for nothing.
Random is how those people who predict work
State a couple of possible words and one may fit
and then you may get hit.
here I am: I listen to what happened to another
and know it was mine.
I speak myself truly and do not mention
that is because I speak myself truly
To myself I do not recall any any tension.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
all I ve got is all I ve got
Light take this complaint
up to your planet of those who faint
Small travelling love lost like a star burnt
I am not asking you to stay forever
but Long enough till the laughter dies
close the door and I will not stare
into that which you are scared to make love to.
Close your eyes when the door closes behind you
you will find yourself with me.
up to your planet of those who faint
Small travelling love lost like a star burnt
I am not asking you to stay forever
but Long enough till the laughter dies
close the door and I will not stare
into that which you are scared to make love to.
Close your eyes when the door closes behind you
you will find yourself with me.
Monday, October 08, 2007
It does not all come in a shotglass
I have returned
I am swimming through the thunder
I call him to come and play
with my habits of drama
Dread shall fill and has
the hearts of those who leave
and then return
You left because there was
You have returned because there is
but what was is until there is
that which you will stay
was painful but will not
until it is and then you
must dare to Live.
I am swimming through the thunder
I call him to come and play
with my habits of drama
Dread shall fill and has
the hearts of those who leave
and then return
You left because there was
You have returned because there is
but what was is until there is
that which you will stay
was painful but will not
until it is and then you
must dare to Live.
Monday, September 10, 2007
It is fun to burn
I have entered the same river for the second time.
The first, remember. All most unable to be played again this play.
His face was the play, his laughter where I laid.
Not a girl who does not speak am I not.
I spoke with New 'Two' a lot. 'No, you are wrong.'
I said.
'I did want it a lot.' Take two, scene one here we go again.
God pressed repeat and Zoe went down the drain.
It is fun, it is fun to burn, ashes, smoke and rain.
Rising rising slowly within : the smoke breathes
the ashes dust the breath and the rain paints
the road I am not going to go down again.
The first, remember. All most unable to be played again this play.
His face was the play, his laughter where I laid.
Not a girl who does not speak am I not.
I spoke with New 'Two' a lot. 'No, you are wrong.'
I said.
'I did want it a lot.' Take two, scene one here we go again.
God pressed repeat and Zoe went down the drain.
It is fun, it is fun to burn, ashes, smoke and rain.
Rising rising slowly within : the smoke breathes
the ashes dust the breath and the rain paints
the road I am not going to go down again.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Wonder
the Eyes were flying through the bars yesterday night.
Her Peripheral view was focused on a certain object-ive.
No Object for Eve.
She ejected the rum onto her brain cells rainfaling down her tongue.
"I am too shy to answer that question." __________this non-miss
The thunders started in the background. The tent started moving down. ______down the road
The vibrations on the table woke up louder.
She was looking intensely at the leaves of that tree
and behind it thunders. ____________________to the port of bliss...
The beat blinded her peripheral view for those seconds.
And it was a wonder.
"I have won my dear"
her heart whispered to her brain.
"And we are back back in the game"
Her Peripheral view was focused on a certain object-ive.
No Object for Eve.
She ejected the rum onto her brain cells rainfaling down her tongue.
"I am too shy to answer that question." __________this non-miss
The thunders started in the background. The tent started moving down. ______down the road
The vibrations on the table woke up louder.
She was looking intensely at the leaves of that tree
and behind it thunders. ____________________to the port of bliss...
The beat blinded her peripheral view for those seconds.
And it was a wonder.
"I have won my dear"
her heart whispered to her brain.
"And we are back back in the game"
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