Tag Archives: I and I and I

Emotional Suicide

Emotional,

Suicides,

Continuity of contemplations,

Yesterday gone by,

Now;
Catalyst of catapulting concentricity,

Like hell,

Only opposed,

For those seeming endless hours endured,

Tattered tears of troubled tears,

Reveal Hemingway’s hidden truth,

Exposed,

My invisible doppelganger sings out;

“The world breaks everybody;

And afterward,

Some are stronger in the broken places.”
Broken places,

The caves of dialogues with Plato,

Wherein shadows portend light,

And light seems a forgotten meme,

Like a vanished childhood memory;

 

Recaptured with the taste of a candy apple or cotton candy,

Or dirt;

 

Simplicity refined,

Ill defined and unwritten,

Until now.
Emotional suicides aside,

For now,

The cave dwellers,
I and I and I,

Elect to reemerge as chosen light,

For the light we have chosen,

I and I and I,

Seek clarity, knowledge of self(ves),

Nosce Te Ipsum,

To triumphantly engage,

In the most precious journey,

Fatherhood.

Let this cry ring out,

From broken soul

now

Kintsugi,

To broken souls,

This light is not the end of the tunnel,

But the tunnel itself,

Neither pessimism nor cynicism,

Can or will alter Sender revisited,

Rejuvenated, restored and improved.

 

Let these cries be perceived,

To all those searching,

Walking the daunting paths of Dante’s design,

Feeling entombed,

Dash forward, ever onward,

Tunnel and tunnel more,

Until this universal truth becomes as real for you,

As I and I and I.

 

Words can seem empty,

Feeble and pedantic,

Yet as I climb from this cavity of interminable despondency,

I and I and I stand witness(es),

Bold and humbled,

By the fire inside,

That is the light;

Emotional Suicide be damned,

And art on,

Whatever that art may be

For therein lay your (OUR) liberation,

And utter determination,
I and I and I’s art is simple,

An authentic life;

Non Omnis Moriar.

Sender D. MacLean

 

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Love Denied: The Whole Hole

Abatement of attritions seized,

Long winded encapsulations of flicking fingers,

On keys that respond though not in kind,

Whirling fascinations of presupposed indifferences,

To the untrained eye,

Of I and I and I,

Three parts of self,

Detached from the Id, Ego and Super Ego,

Instead a delicious Freudian dilemma,

Where Pandora’s box opened,

Revealing several demons lurking inside my shadows,

Dark companions,

Those that invite libation,

Yet never liberation,

A secret secreted through ill defined words,

Plentiful though, indeed,

Scattered thoughts,

Manic suppression of fatal tendencies,

Hidden behind cheers of one more,

Uno mas,

Sante’s and Nok’s.

Prolific wanderings,

Wailings and whatevers,

Yet never a might have, could have or should have,

For I rise to challenges epically,

Instead these illuminated bastions,

Of a soul redux,

Cast aspersions of an inimitable kind,

Desperate longings of oft fulfilled dreams,

Set adrift on unsafe mechanisms,

Deities of defense,

My own,

As I and I and I battle for the supremacy of one,

Love,

Almighty love,

That which whilst I bask in the glow of its resplendence doth know,

Unmercifully my deepest and darkest hallucinations,

Bellow for my ultimate demise,

The champions of my decades long search,

Poking, pleading, presenting,

Obstinate objections to my outwardly manifestations,

GONZO,

Simple protestations that I will not go quietly,

Into any night, good nor bad,

To satiate the desires of my imaginary companions.

Here I stand,

On the precipice of something new,

Precisely poised to push past the penultimate pantheon,

Of Black Dogs and empty bottles,

Surpassing the shattering sound of a shotgun blast,

Straight into the den of my own iniquity,

Analyzing antiquated efforts at assumed acquiescence,

Smashing that something not quite right,

Writing it with something not quite wrong,

Too long Poncho to Quixote,

That now I must steady my stead,

Right my resolve,

Resist my resistance,

Futile,

In accepting that the whole hole,

Is not love denied,

But instead love accepted, ascended and awesome,

In transforming the broken emotional I and I and I,

Suicides committed daily,

That I now stand corrected,

I,

I,

And I.

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My Iniquity

 

The darkened sky,

A transformative canvas,

Black, as a starless night,

My soul heretofore rising and falling,

On seemingly blatant whims,

Manic yes,

Depressed no,

Setting me on an uncharted course,

Of history, the present and future yet revealed,

Empty, like a new found easel,

Palette stained with the blood on my hands,

And yours,

Decision made,

To have the most perfect child of the light,

Months of manic expression,

Blessed transformation of my soul,

Decision made,

Miserable repression of wretched sorrow,

In a feigned attempt to rid myself of my acceptance,

Of a choice, I dare not make,

Let alone accept,

But what choice could there be,

Cleaning the slate to record the singularity events,

We’re barely yet to understand,

You, moved on, with nary a thought for what we’ve done,

Me,

Trapped inside festering deliberations of the apparent lie I bought,

Selling my soul once more to an imagined devil,

Selling my soul for your comfort,

Placing your needs above my own,

As expected,

Demanded,

By the circumstances of fate,

Hmong Key,

Deleterious choices that were not mine,

But to which I am a party,

And will eternally be strained to accept,

The theorems of our own grandeur decorated,

Foolish grown children,

Playing with fire,

Whereby I alone am burned,

By the footsteps I will never hear,

The cries I can never answer,

The first words I will never hear,

Launching me into a vanguard of disheartened insurrection,

Perplexed, by how quickly in a moment, all can change,

And for what,

To what profit,

In the red,

Celebrated scourging accolades, unearned,

For once more I failed my child,

I failed my love,

Hmong Key, how did I fail you?

I did fail you, didn’t I?

Like an exam I could not understand,

Words like gibberish, heard but never agreed,

For the wide canyon between our desires,

Grand,

So easily unseated by the opinion of others,

Family or no,

The choice made, was yours and yours alone,

Though I can not fault you,

For you did what you had to do,

And I stood by,

Like a trainer ready to throw in the towel,

Constantly reimagining what could have been,

What should have been,

What most I appeal for to the Ether,

What most you chide as a non event in your life,

Evidenced by the ease in which you,

Tossing our child, our love and me sideways,

Castaway by immature reconciliations,

Serving neither you nor I,

Though surely a life sentence I am again to serve,

Parole from these manifestations an unlikely event,

Causation,

Dwelled on like a circadian rhythm without deliberation or meditation,

Though for all the days between that and this,

I have thought of little more,

Than ten fingers and ten toes,

Blue eyes and black hair,

Beyond the superficial, horizons seen,

Realizing that I have flown too close to the sun,

Clipped wings,

Shattered soul,

From the veracity pained before our mutual eyes,

The tree of life, yours, mine,

And our beautiful child,

Stolen from my grasp,

As I clutched to the hope that finally,

Here and now,

It was to be,

Or instead not to be,

As my vicious companion,

My black dog reminds me,

And despite the noblest of intentions,

I failed you,

Our child, unborn,

Aborted,

And myself,

Authentic pleas loudly expressed,

Though the Ether did not hear,

Would not hear,

You refused to hear,

For here we are,

Separated by time and space,

Forever connected by the love we made,

Conceiving an innocent victim,

To our foolishness,

From which our existence is unabated,

Though not that of our child,

As we slaughter you whole, one by one by one,

As I have time and again and again,

Lost that most dear to me,

Ten fingers,

Ten toes,

Woe be not me,

Yet distressingly I bemoan what could not be,

For reasons clear as mud,

Yet crystal in your demise,

My child,

Beautiful child,

Innocent,

Choking as you did on our avarice,

Only to breath into fresh suggestions, disregarding our malice,

As if you could,

As if you should,

Bent on allowing us to thrive and continue to survive,

Though you, innocent, could not live,

Despite the persistence of our choosing,

At your expense,

And that of our continued optimism,

For now restless I consider,

All you could have been,

And all that I stole from you,

Your first breath,

The beating of your beautiful heart,

The resplendence of your love born soul,

Regardless of my veneration of it,

Devotion to not just the idea of you,

But in fact, you,

I am now stuck in place,

Quicksand of emotional sinking,

Peculiar reproductions, of the time before,

And the time before that,

I guess the third time is not a charm,

But instead the noose I wear around my neck,

Waiting for the floor to collapse between my feet,

The only punishment suitable,

The bear trap crushing my soul,

One hurtful thought at a time

Evocative spectacle of menacing exquisiteness,

For truly you would have been exquisite,

In my mind’s eye you always will be,

What of your thoughts Hmong Key?

What do you see when you close your eyes at night?

Is the nightmare the same as for I?

Portentous, sinister and yet curiously inviting,

As three dimensions squeezed into two,

And for a time two became three,

We,

Mother,

Father and unborn child,

Aborted,

As the final countdown reached the hour of my defeat,

You knocked up, pregnancy a suit you wore well,

And me knocked out,

By the simplicity of your words,

Followed by actions,

Transiting mine own compromise once more,

Door closed on the haunted house of my trespasses,

Under pressure,

Pressures,

That I, myself, had ill conceived,

Though you, my child, were not,

Instead realized in a moment of blind passion,

That continues to consume me,

As we did you,

Foolish children we were,

Are,

Loosing our souls,

To gain what?

To what avail?

Loosing each other,

And a piece of ourselves to which we will never arise,

At least not I,

You traverse unanswered, buttress our intimidation of beings,

She and I,

Mother and Father,

Become judge, jury and executioner,

Executioner, once more,

For both she and I,

Loosing more than just you,

But a piece of us,

Conceptions of love revealed,

To be the false hope of prophetic wisdom,

Fanatical depictions of what was, could have been and now is,

Not,

By what right of universal law,

Those commands from the Ether,

What right,

Did we have?

Ultimately giving way to the thoughts of man,

Touchdown in mere minutes upon this empty void,

Whereby you suffered,

I suffer,

Depressed and manic,

Considering the role I played,

The life you gave,

That I allowed to fall victim,

Once more,

An act of love, true and necessary,

For her, not I,

But I was a passenger in this crime,

Necessarily so,

For as man, I have no right,

To deter the decisions of your mother,

Or any woman,

No excuse offered,

Rather the acknowledgement of my delinquency,

My crime, convicted,

For I did stand idly by,

Waiting for you to die,

Of my feebleness to prevent this,

Longing for you to see the light of day,

Rather sent to the pits of hell,

By me,

Those steps I long to hear,

Now are the nightmare that I experience,

Night and day,

Flamboyant bizarre dints,

My psyche dented,

From a child love invented,

And cowardice took away,

Too easily, though not for I,

Or I and I,

Broken fragments of a dream shattered,

Reflecting the reality of the decision made,

And for what?

A proper penchant of collective tête-à-tête,

Though no words could I say,

Other than I supported her in your demise,

That also represents a dying on mine own,

Awkward,

In stains, blood, shades, hues and tones, all red,

Millions of them,

Demolishing what I thought I was,

For what again I’m become,

Failing you,

Failing her,

Failing,

Period,

Deluded by hidden lies,

Behind a radiant smile,

And glowing eyes,

That now seem, at least a bit,

To have lost their glint,

Just as my own,

Brought to the forefront of perception, judicious,

Judge, jury and executioner,

Ignorance of universal law is no excuse,

For what we’ve done,

Restrained sway of the eye enclosed,

Millions of possibilities,

Only one outcome,

As I failed you,

My child,

Beautiful boy or girl,

The language of my greatest burden,

Playing God,

While He/She/It/ They laugh,

At our imprudence,

Suffering now my crime of omission,

In a galaxy confined in the brain, rightly so grey,

For in this decision there was no black nor white,

Only grey,

The central question, importance and measure of our lives,

Our desire born love child,

Delicate haunting arms outstretched,

But to no avail,

You begged to be assumed, moved, valued,

Though no value did you have for she,

Seemingly only me,

As our tree of life is evermore death,

Yours,

Amplified in bewildering events,

One pill at a time,

Followed by the source of life,

Water,

Which again found the path of least resistance,

And I was held captive,

In symbolic penitentiary and isolation,

Our intention understood,

But not accepted,

Rippling loops artifact humiliating me once more,

Gushing tears at the banality of this man,

This consecrated gift, ours,

You,

Raped,

Without recourse or further consideration,

How can one be so cold,

Decision made, no explanation and instead the running of the bulls,

Whereby the Key,

In fact, once more became the lock,

That holds me prisoner,

Shackled by the very thought of you,

And what I have done,

Once more,

Ever more,

It was me,

It was she,

And the empty vagaries of an apology,

Falls upon her deaf ears,

And my wounded heart and soul,

Forced solitude to engage my darkest hour,

As the hour of your birth approaches,

Stolen from you,

Stolen from me,

I am failed,

I am convict,

Guilty,

Of crimes against humanity,

Against you,

My unborn child,

Cast aside,

Aborted,

And thus my torture ensues,

Considering the iniquity of man,

My own,

Iniquity,

 

I am,

 

Sorry!

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Can You…

Can you…

Can you forgive me…

 

I hope you can

And trust you will;

 

For I pang for a life of,

Once upon a times,

And happily ever after,

With you…

 

All ye that have been reckless,

Without regard or understanding,

The condition within,

Conditions,

For this wounded man,

Figurative and literal,

Brutally torn and tattered,

Hidden realities and invisible scars,

I can let no one see,

For when I do the result is inevitable,

An inverse rabbit in the hat,

POOF…

 

GONE!

 

I fault you not,

For choosing the easier road,

For truly there is no easy road in life,

I fault you not,

How could I,

Considering that I know myself,

My three selves,

I and I and I,

And at times even I am uncertain,

As to whether or not,

I am comfortable in my own skin,

I assure you I am,

Not,

And have not been for quite some time;

 

I have to be, though,

And I attempt daily,

To find the strength,

I attempt daily,

To give you reassurances,

A necessary aplomb,

That I can and will beat this thing,

This unbeatable,

Unbearable,

Unbelievable,

Life,

This jewel that remains unpolished,

Uncut stones,

Like tracts of time,

Rivers on Mars,

*(desiring instead Eros)

Those reveal our deepest wounds,

Mine hiding behind compartments of beaming soul shine,

Fighting to overcome my black dog,

Constant cruel companion,

I fight;

 

I can’t apologize for my wounds,

I just can’t,

Hard to believe,

Well you should,

Perhaps if you read my palm,

Perhaps if you read me,

Reached inside and held tenderly,

This abject sorrow,

Endless,

Heaving me through time,

From place to place,

Longing for a home,

A love,

A wife,

A home,

A family,

A life;

Longing for you…

 

You’d get it,

You’d understand,

Why I turn the colour of an aubergine,

At the very thought,

Of a love requited,

A love with you,

A thought I’ve held dear,

Since my life fell apart,

In an instant,

Instances,

Of this chivalrous knighted,

Fool,

And how am I fool,

Looking to put my feet on firm ground,

The terra firma,

Of your heart,

Like in fairy tales,

That delivers me from evil,

And reminds me,

Of all that is before us,

What do we do now?

What do we do now?

All ye that have been reckless,

With this wounded man,

How do I forgive you,

With grace, compassion, empathy, understanding and love,

Can you do the same?

 

Will you?

Please…

 

SDM

 

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Humbled (And Smitten)

Finally,

After all this time,

All this loss,

Peril, now seemingly, for the moment,

The wind in my sails,

Behind me,

Pushing me forward,

Coming into my own,

Finding again that infectious laugh,

And all I had to do – was give in,

Which is not remotely the same as giving up…

 

By giving in I discovered,

That the parts of me that are broken,

I and I and I,

Are merely callings to reassemble?

 

I and I and I…

 

The jigsaw of my reality,

For a quarter century or more,

Giving in,

I found,

Who my real friends are,

Cherished,

The ones that stood by me,

And continue to stand by me,

When I am down,

Feeding me with endless nourishment,

Of wisdom, enthusiasm, a gentle caress,

Of your many spirits,

Dancing like a kite,

Free to fly,

To explore,

Roaming together in the uncertainty,

For life has no instruction manual,

And arriving,

At what was always there,

Just deep inside…

 

Hiding behind shadows lurking,

Longing for a home to call my own,

Not the building,

But a true home, internal,

Safe,

Free from the outside world,

From my own skeletons,

Demons and Black Dog…

 

Finally,

Letting go,

Surrendering,

I have discovered,

That the parts of I and I and I,

Those for so long been counted as unconquerable,

Were merely signposts on the journey of life?

The I that desires to serve,

The I that desires to love,

The I that desires to be loved,

For I and I and I,

Find my totality there…

 

And this life is a journey,

Each day a new step towards the new,

N E X T,

Beauty at every step,

Even in the greatest darkness,

That at one time either too blind or too ignorant,

I could not or would not,

Engage,

NO more,

Not here, nor now…

 

Today I stand up,

I will be heard,

I will be counted,

I will seek and find without looking for it,

My greatest treasure,

I will celebrate the totality of who I am,

And in so doing,

Gain insight into what it means to truly live,

And my friends,

My real friends,

Stand by my side,

At the ready,

To, if necessary, again,

Pick me up,

Deliver me the tools for my own reassembling,

And I am humbled by it,

For as tears of joy,

Stream down my face,

Calling out to the Ether,

I know, that I am close,

And I can feel,

These emotions raw,

The immersion of the new,

Tempered by the wisdom of holding fast and true,

Waiting,

That I may use them,

To propel me forward,

To the place we all know I should be,

Humbled,

Grateful,

And aware,

I celebrate each of you,

You know who you are,

For causing me to realize,

That my passage had to include this moment,

All of them,

Desperate,

To reignite that passion that burns so brightly inside of me,

One that now awakens like a sleeping giant,

Though still contained, for the moment on B612…

 

My only hope,

Is that I too,

May repay your generosity of spirit,

By being who I am,

And returning to you,

The same generosity,

When you are at your lowest – or whenever you require,

Help you discover that you are a diamond in the rough,

Not a rough diamond,

An innate beauty that glimmers within you,

Your eyes shining,

Your smile gleaming,

Your soul teaming with the life you desire,

I hope,

I can help you see,

What so many have helped me to see.

 

I stand before you anew,

Understanding how far I’ve come,

And how far I still must go,

But I draw strength from you,

The royal you,

Demonstrated here,

With humble thanks,

These words are all I can give,

And all my heart, mind, body and soul,

For all of you have given me permission,

To soar,

And again I will thrive.

 

SDM

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Amorphophallus Titanium

Avenging my own unrelenting despair,

I and I,

And I,

In the same moment of space and time,

Dimensionally confused, refused, abused

And consumed,

Looking on myself from the outside,

As you see me,

Though none of you really can nor do,

Purging toxic stress,

Leaving me rattled and shaken,

The physics of my despair containing the meaning of life,

Yet I know,

Each day… survival is the name of the game,

Though soon I will,
Thrive,

As Muse will guide the way.

 

Presupposing that I was meant,

To feel this pain and suffering,

That it was mine by birthright,

Divine majesty of terrific torture,

This Black Dog screams,

Not knowing what is in store,

Though knowing that it involves words,

Words from you,

Those propel me on,

Pushing me from my own unrelenting struggle,

Pulling me to an awaiting greatness,

Pulling me ever closer,

Through the laws of motion,

To you,

Muse,

Who will set me free.

 

These words,

To you, may seem nothing more,

Than something which defines life,

But to me,

A word is power,

An unnerving power that jangles my cage,

And causes,

Sobering thoughts,

Plagued by a mind that never stops,

Both blessing and curse,

Hiding behind a well rehearsed smile,

And a thin veneer of extroverted exuberance,

That so few of you can see.

 

Introspective,

And reclusive,

Most nights,

I sit in the darkness,

Pondering a world I’ve left behind,

Gladly, as it surely would have killed me,

And a new world,

Unfurling right before my eyes,

Daily,

Reminding me that this struggle,

It is the joyful transition that makes me me,

I and I and I aware,

Like,

Amorphophallus titanium,

Ravishing to be sure,

As surely she will be,

My Muse,

She that will guide me from my darkness with nothing more,

Than her radiant soul,

Majestic spirit,

And what I know will be beautiful big brown eyes.

 

Diligent,

You have honoured me,

The Ether,

Giving me this blessing and curse,

And I in turn,

Honour you,

I and I and I

Acknowledging those imperious,

But leaving them,

Behind,

As I go forward,

Will you come with me?

Oh Buddha,

Whatever God there is,

He/She/It/They,

Let loose the hounds of hell,

My Black Dog,

Bring to me my greatest temptation,

A Muse,

To alight the fire in my soul,

To inspire the fire in all those around me…

I long to be slave to your master,

Love,

Of Muse,

Delivering me from me,

For you…

 

SDM

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R O A R – Sia Didn’t Stay

“I was not the lion, but it fell to me to give the lion’s roar.”

Winston Churchill

 

It fell to me,

As you ran,

From yourself,

From who you want to be,

It fell,

To me… Yet…

 

Too timid,

Too confused,

Too immersed in misunderstood cultural actualities,

Too fooled by an naughty smile,

Filled with insecurity

(still evident and handcuffing)

I know it’s hard to believe,

For years of my life,

I fooled you all,

Submissive to designs,

Of those who did not have my best interests in mind,

Avarice and deadly sins like fallen skeletons,

Wounding me,

Those that learned love was my Achilles heel,

Is my Achilles heel,

And like Sisyphus I feel

This weakness is rock but also

My amour, armor pierced,

Genuine to myself,

Nosce Te Ipsum,

Who and what I am,

Yet still

Left reeling,

Panging,

Longing,

Desiring,

My everything,

Wandering our proverbial jungle,

Concrete, wilderness and my mistaken impressions,

In efforts to understand,

Who am I?

What am I?

I and I and I left standing again,

Holding an empty bag,

Where once my love was known,

An unborn child lighting my way,

My Sia,

To the life I wanted,

The life I need,

And in an instant gone,

Torn from my happiness,

And I fell.

 

More like alley cat than lion,

Battered and bruised after one too many brawls,

Until my life changed, destined,

First a nervous break down,

My purr not yet a growl,

Wounds licked,

My tongue satiating a troubled mind,

As with loves ripe cancellation,

My growls not yet roar,

Though the seed was thrown,

Aborted,

Poor Sia…

Tossed aside,

As readily as a half eaten plate of food,

Worse still,

You must reap what you sow,

Therefore I had to submit to pain,

Sullen,

Fallen,

My Black Dog screaming…

Priority one,

Revive this beautiful soul,

Radiant spirit,

Release myself,

Held captive by endless lies,

Heart wrenching,

After months of sublime bliss.

 

Admitting defeat,

Of my spiritual energy,

My mental plague,

Excelling beyond the blind leading the blind,

My eyes opened by continual struggle,

Between perceptions of good and evil,

Love and hate,

Right and wrong,

I dare you to deception again,

Forewarning you,

That while I have been,

Fooled since birth,

Fooled by you,

Shame on me for believing,

Told of only two polarities,

Black and white,

Account for all,

Rather than the truth,

Shades of grey,

Cultural difference

And outsiders interference,

Inference, conjecture and aspersions,

I and I and I,

Gaining strength,

Gaining insight,

I and I and I,

Gathering the will to journey on,

Allowing my face to become a beacon,

A signal to the world,

To you,

My mane is growing again,

My growl becoming roar,

Here I come,

One word,

One sentence,

One stanza at a time,

(Though even the Lion needs pride)

Platitudes left behind,

As you thought I’d stay in this repressive mental state,

Following the trail of deceit,

Taking the bait,

Self induced, professed and confessed,

Caught inside the scope of a trophy hunters rifle,

Yet the hunter visionless,

Saw only the immediate in front of them,

No foresight.

Roar,

Now firmly entrenched in my literary persona,

Warrior Poet,

King of,

Not just the proverbial jungle,

But also the one,

That leads me to you,

Whoever you are,

For now,

Poets united,

Wrestling with the intangible,

With love, fate, hurt and the Ether,

Over optic cables,

In the distance,

I hear you all,

And beseech you,

To do the same…

 

R

O

A

R

!

 

Rise from the shackles of experience,

Be more,

Better,

Rise,

Slough off mistakes,

With wisdom gleaned,

Rise,

Know that tomorrow is another day,

Stand proud,

Shattered yet intact and recognize,

These words are salvation,

While cold comfort to the romantic ideals we strive,

These words,

Like a lion’s roar,

Keep us alive…

R

O
A

R

!

 

SDM

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