“And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through.” - haruki murakami
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The closest thing that I can do
The closest thing that I can do
Is to bike fast
Swing fast
Slide fast
Fall fast
I seem to be chasing death
But really, it made me realize how nice it is to be alive.
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Dying
I want death to feel like being in a wide open field during a windy day
I want my breath taken away by nature
I want to remember dying as a liberating thing.
Good Lord, I can almost feel it coming.
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WITNESS (Flash Fiction)
It was my first time seeing blood. It was nauseating. Black spots clouded my vision as sourness reached my throat, threatening a retch. I tried crawling on all fours, inching myself away from the nightmare that would soon haunt me. All dark red sprawled across my bathroom floor like it was all mine, except for the mangled body sitting on my bath tub. An unrecognizable being, barely a human. A few minutes ago, that mangled body was my friend.
“You have the right to remain silent. Any statement you make may be used against you in a court of law in the Philippines.”
I heard a click on my wrist, only to see it bound by handcuffs. Uniformed men grabbed my shoulder and harshly pushed me outside of my apartment. I followed through, staring blankly ahead. I looked like a rat soaked in sewage water in the midst of uniformed people, blinking lights, and passersby who got too curious about what was happening.
It was a warm Sunday night when Sol arrived for a sleepover here in my apartment. Her visit was unannounced, just like her previous visits. Being an orphan with no relatives and no friends aside from her, I craved her presence. Her visits became more frequent when the news of a serial killer in our town started to spread. Wherever we go, we hear warnings from people. They say, ‘You need to be careful. The killer targets young girls like you.’
Maybe Sol was worried because I live alone, but I’d rather have her tucked inside their warm home with her big family than have her worry about me. The chances of the killer choosing me as its next victim are very unlikely.
However, on the night of her last visit, she was acting so strange. Always looking at her back like someone has been following her. I asked her what was bothering her, but she would just joke about how untidy my place was. When the atmosphere has gotten lighter, I bring out the gin and the C2 in my small fridge. I mixed it, and our stories ensued. We talked like normal friends do. Then I passed out.
The next time I woke up, I heard gurgles inside the bathroom, like someone was being choked by a liquid. The bathroom was the only source of light by that time. The slightly opened door created a pattern of light on the floor. I followed it and opened the door wide. I frowned.
A startling painting of Pieta dyed in scarlet gumamela welcomed my blurry eyes. I blinked and blinked. And when it registered, I screamed so loudly that I’m convinced the body in the pool of blood would have chosen to cover its ears. I collapsed right on the spot.
Trembling, I stood up and rushed to Sol’s side. Her body, as if cradled by my small tub, is limp and pale. Her head is bent sideways, her arm dangling on the floor. I tried to fish her body out of the water, but I immediately felt dizzy when I noticed her state. Her face, up to her chest, is badly mutilated. It was halfway skinned to her bones. I backed away and vomited all of the alcohol on my body.
“We have a witness.” Attorney Antonio spoke one afternoon in the courtroom.
“The prosecution would like to call on Mr. Selo Andres to stand.” The old man, lanky and thin, stood and went to declare his sworn testimony. Attorney Antonio, upon being called by the judge, asked the person to introduce himself.
“I am Selo Andres, the owner of the apartment where the murder took place.” I stared at the man carefully enough as I slowly unraveled my memories of him. Nothing comes up. I don’t know this man.
What happened next was a series of incomprehensible defending, interviews, and death threats from the families of the bereaved. I am now branded as a serial killer who has killed, almost ironically, all 12 other victims, who are all females, aged 16–20 years old. My motive? I'm jealous because I don’t have friends, and they happen to be part of big circles.
I wish Sol’s here.
On the day of the final verdict, my mind was in a deep haze. The blood, the mangled body, my apartment, Pieta--- everything has been playing in my mind like a broken record. The ridiculousness of the situation made me so mad and done with the world. I can never commit such atrocities. I am no serial killer!
“Therefore, in accordance with the law...”
I swallowed the bile of vomit, threatening to get out. I took a deep breath, my insides caving in like a crumbling building. I took another breath, wishing everything would just be suspended in space, time unmoving.
“I hereby declare the defendant not guilty due to insufficient evidence to establish guilt beyond a reasonable doubt."
Right there on the defendant’s chair, I vomited my disgust, my anger, my loss, and my sanity.
The next day, I packed my belongings and went out of the place I had considered as hell. Surprisingly, no one has tried ambushing me. The families of the victims were nonexistent, even Sol’s wailing mother.
I walked past busy cars and busy people as I recalled what happened once again.
A figure was above Sol’s body, strangling her neck. I watched as ‘it’ slash my best friend’s face, starting from the forehead to the chin, and then, as if an afterthought, decided to continue slashing her chest. ‘It’ skinned her face while she was alive, screaming for mercy.
I smiled as I remembered the face of the killer ---- the face that I am currently looking at as I stare on my reflection on passing cars.
It was my first time seeing blood, and I am glad it was my best friend’s.
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The Last Binukot (A short story)
The Philippines has an ancient tradition that mystifies even the younger generation. It seemed unreal and mysterious, like a story straight out of a fantasy book. Princesses only exist in books, or is that true? This is the story of how Adolfo met Annga, the last Binukot.
Adolfo Nikolas is often found in the library. If he is not in the town library, then he is probably inside the school library, even on weekends. He came from a wealthy family. He is the only successor to their family’s hotels. However, Adolfo’s heart isn’t set on being a businessman. He wants to be an anthropologist. He enjoys reading history books. This is the reason why the school guard often needed to remind him of the closing time. He can focus on reading a thick history book for a long time. He is very interested in the cultures of different native tribes in the Philippines.
One night, he dreamed of a shining book under one of the shelves of their town library. When he woke up, he immediately shrugged it off and thought of it as a meaningless dream. The next night, he once again dreamed of a shining book, floating in what seemed like an endless river. The third night, he dreamed of the same book, but this time it was under his bed, shining like gold. Still, Adolfo thought that it was only the result of his obsession with books. He thinks of books before he sleeps; that must have been the reason for his dreams. The fourth night, he dreams of his pet cat angrily shoving him the shining book. He woke up, only to find his cat staring at him without even blinking. He shook the weird feeling off and went to school to attend his morning classes. While at school, he decided to tell his friends about this frequent dream.
"Oh, Adolfo. That is because all you talk about is books, all you want to face is books, and all you think of is your history books," said one of his close friends.
"Today, I won’t read a book. Let's see if something will change," he replied.
The night came, and Adolfo prepared to go to sleep early. He immediately dozed off and fell into a deep sleep. He dreams once again of a shining book. That night, it grew legs and arms, and it chased him until he fell into an endless pit. When he woke up, he was catching his breath like he had run a mile. On that day, he decided to go to the town library and look for the book that he had been dreaming of for five nights.
When he arrived, the library already had a few people in it. Determined to look for the book or anything that was similar to its gold cover and pages, he went and looked everywhere that he could find. After searching for hours, all he saw were regular books; none of those had a gold cover or gold pages. Tired, he sat on the floor and leaned on one of the shelves. He looked at his watch and found out that it was already 4 in the afternoon. He sighed and was about to grab any book that he could reach when his fingers felt something hard under the shelves. A memory flashed in his mind, and he remembered that in his first dream, the shining book was under a shelf. In that dream, all the other books are emitting a faint white light, but the book under the shelf shines like the afternoon sun. It was noticeable and blinding. He grabbed whatever was under the shelf and dusted it off. He smiled in delight when he saw that the book’s cover was gold. He examined it further and saw that the pages were almost brown, and some were torn due to its oldness. Even though the book is old, the words are still readable. He read the cover, and it said, "The Last Binukot."
Adolfo knows a lot about the practices and traditions of the native cultures in the Philippines. He knows what a Binukot is. It is a Visayan word that means "wrapped up," which simply describes their practice and tradition. A Binukot is considered a princess of the tribe who is highly respected and protected so that not even the sun shall see her skin or any strand of her hair. Legends say that a Binukot is the most beautiful maiden in the tribe. Some say that she is covered with cloth whenever she goes out because the sun might get jealous of her radiance, and her feet must never step on the soil because the earth might kiss her and never let go. The last recorded Binukot was dead a long time ago. Tribes have learned their lessons and they never once again made another maiden their Binukot. Adolfo wondered if the book was a documentary.
He opened the book and was immediately welcomed by a blinding light. He covered his eyes, let go of the book, and fumbled a few steps back. It all happened too fast. He felt a pull, a splash, and everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes, he was welcomed by a fish swimming right in front of him. He took a deep breath but was only choked by a mouthful of water. His eyes widen, and he feels himself turning blue due to the lack of air. He swam upwards and felt relief when he saw that he was not yet deep into the water. He coughed and coughed until he could finally breathe. He gasped and inhaled deeply. When Adolfo finally regained himself, he looked around and realized that he was floating in what seemed like a river. There is an unfamiliar two-story nipa house nearby. He could hear a rooster crowing in the distance, someone cutting wood with an axe, a group of women laughing, and someone singing in a language he did not understand. He swam near the house and lay on the grass. He looked at the sky and saw many birds flying.
Adolfo was taken aback. He doesn’t know what he is doing in there. He remembered opening the book. He also remembered the light that felt like pulling him. Just as Adolfo fell into a deep thought, a woman suddenly arrived. The woman shrieked at the sight of a man soaked in water, unmoving. He immediately rose and looked at the panicking owner of the voice.
"I’m sorry! I don’t know how I came here. Please don’t be mad!” Adolfo said, also panicking, thinking that the woman was mad because he trespassed on their home. The voice suddenly went silent.
"I thought you were dead!" The woman exclaimed. Another man arrived wearing only a cloth wrapped around his waist and a bandana. He is holding a bolo, almost ready to defend the woman.
“Put it down, Bagani!” The man named Bagani put his bolo down and looked at Adolfo from head to toe. He points at his body.
Adolfo looked down at his body and stared at his blue polo and black slacks. His rubber shoes are unrecognizable due to the dirt and grass that have been sticking to them. Aside from his unkept appearance, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he is wearing. What he finds weird are the people in front of him. They are wearing bahag and malong, the traditional clothes that are worn by native Filipinos. What he finds weird isn’t their clothing, but he wonders what happened when he was unconscious to arrive in a tribe.
"You’re from the city? What are you doing in here?" Bagani asked.
"I don’t know how I exactly came here. I just remember being inside the library," Adolfo replied.
"You must be lost, then. Come here, let’s go inside. You might get sick if you don’t change immediately." The woman ushered him inside their home. When they entered the wooden gate, a rooster once again cawed. The voices of women laughing and singing became clearer and clearer. Adolfo looked around and noticed that the house looked majestic. He has never seen a bahay kubo up-close. His eyes went to the group of women and men. The men who are cutting wood are all wearing bahag, while the women are all wearing a blouse and a malong.
The woman ushering Adolfo spoke and said, "Bulan, please give our visitor some clothes. Help him change too." The little boy named Bulan diverted his attention from the old man cutting wood. His curious little eyes stared at Adolfo, who, by that time, was still roaming his eyes around the place.
"Who is he, Inang Agwa?" When the little boy spoke, Adolfo looked at him and smiled.
"I am Adolfo, and you must be Bulan?" The little boy nodded.
"Inang Agwa saw him on the lake." Bagani explained to the curious men and women. They all nodded in understanding, but then two of them approached and stared at Adolfo’s face.
The two of them shared a look and approached Inang Agwa.
"He looked like a Japanese. Don’t you agree, Donato?" The man named Donato nodded.
"Should we really let him in, Inang Agwa? Himig is right. Even to me, he looks like a Japanese. If he is a spy and has already alerted his fellowmen, then we are already in danger!"
Adolfo was shocked by their conversation. Why are they careful with the Japanese? Are there tourists nearby? Adolfo shook his head and said, "I am not Japanese. I am a Filipino, too. I came from the city, but I do not know how I arrived here. I also don’t know how to go back."
The woman, whom they are referring to as Inang Agwa, smiled and shook her head. She signaled Bulan to assist Adolfo inside their home. He immediately followed Bulan when he started walking. As they walk nearer and nearer to the door, Adolfo heard Inang Agwa speak.
"Donato, we must help everyone who is seeking help. Bathala is happy when we are kind, didn’t I teach that to you? The Binukot would also suggest that you do the same. Don’t you think so?"
Adolfo was given a bahag to wear and a cloth to wrap around his waist. Bulan also gave him a cloth for his upper body. The room that he changed into is spacious. There is only a curtain that separates the outside from the inside. There is also a basin made from hardened clay. When he finished changing, he debated whether to ask the child what had been bothering him. In the end, he walked beside the little boy and squatted beside him to match his height.
"Can you tell me what year it is now?" The little boy looked at him like he is saying something that is funny. He then diverted his eyes and stared at the wooden wall for a long time before putting his hand under his chin. The boy hummed before looking at Adolfo.
"It is year 1902, why?"
Adolfo quickly adjusted to their way of life. He often helps with their chores. He sometimes volunteers to harvest fruits or to cut wood. Days flew by fast, and without so much as a wink, a month has already passed. The people are kind; only Donato and Himig remained distant from him. He did not mind it and waited for them to adjust and open up. After all, Adolfo does not know when he will go back to the present, or if he will ever go back.
After a month of thinking about the reason why he time-traveled in the past, he realized that the book wanted to show him something. Until he realizes what it is, he can’t go back. After all, he learned to love the place and the tribe men’s way of living.
"Adolfo, please help us carry the Binukot." Adolfo immediately went down from the tree and went to Bagani. Once a week, they carry the Binukot so she can visit her parents’ tombs. It is Adolfo’s weekly routine to wait by the lowest stair while the Binukot talk to her parents at the top. When Adolfo and Bagani went inside her room, she was already covered with a white cloth and was riding her hammock. None of her skin or hair is to be seen by any men, not until she becomes a Nabukot or a married Binukot. Adolfo is familiar with this practice. He has read it on history books.
Adolfo has no idea what the Binukot looks like. He has never heard of her voice. He was advised to stay away from her room, so he followed it out of respect for the tribe’s culture. However, he knows that he is the youngest daughter of the deceased Datu Dakila and his wife, Inang Biyaya. He has heard from hearsay that the Binukot sometimes sings and dances on special occasions and that her beauty could blind any man who sees her. Adolfo wishes to see her sing or dance. He wondered if the Binukot sang love songs.
One night, while Adolfo was taking his walk in a garden, he suddenly heard a voice chanting. The voice was so clear and melodious. The chant expressed many emotions. One time it was happy, and then there was agony. Adolfo got goosebumps all over his body. He has never heard such a wonderful voice in his life. His desire to know who the mysterious lady was, got the best of him. He went nearer and nearer to the river. There, he saw a maiden soaking her feet in the river. a maiden so beautiful, he could only stare in silence. This time, Adolfo, who loves words, thought that it would be a sin to only describe the maiden in the language he knows. He turned around and was about to walk away when he heard the voice address him.
"Adolfo? What are you doing in here?"
The woman knows him! He swallowed and braved himself to ask, "May I know who I am speaking to?" The maiden only stared at him. Adolfo remains rooted in his place. He stared back.
"I am Annga. I am part of the tribe." The maiden replied.
"This is my first time seeing you. How did you know me?"
This time, she averted her eyes and once again looked at her reflection in the river. There was silence, and Adolfo patiently waited.
"I know you through my people’s words. I also know your voice. I know your face." Adolfo only stared at the maiden.
"Have I met you before?" He asked.
"Yes. Multiple times. I understand if you don’t remember me. Most people do not."
Adolfo leaned on the tree. That night, they talked about the river, the stars, and the tribe’s history. He never attempted to go nearer; both of them are content with their distance.
One day, an Umalohokan, or the tribe’s crier, announced the marriage of the couple, Alon and Mahalina. Everybody rejoiced and prepared for a great feast. Adolfo was even roped into catching pigs in their wide backyard. Some prepared the dishes. Some sew the clothes for the couple. Some practiced their dances and chants. It was a lovely sight.
On the day of the marriage, Adolfo was shocked when he was asked to carry the Binukot. He did not expect the Binukot to attend the marriage. Together with Bagani and other men of the tribe, they carried the Binukot in her hammock. not letting even, the tiniest ray of the sun to see her skin. Adolfo heard that the Binukot will sing and dance. He feels nothing but excitement.
After the marriage ritual, everyone shared all the dishes they had prepared. There is delight in everyone’s face as they celebrate a union that was blessed by Bathala. After the feast, Adolfo’s most anticipated moment has finally arrived. It is now time for the Binukot’s performance. All of the people, dressed in their adorned attires, gathered and formed a big circle. All men, women, and children are present and are eager for the Binukot’s performance.
The performance started with the roll of the gongs called kulintang, followed by the strumming of the kutiyapi, a stringed instrument. The sound is full of beats and chants from the older women of the tribe. A figure of a woman appeared from behind the curtains. Her face was covered with a dark veil. She wears an ankle-length skirt and a long-sleeved blouse; she wears a waistband and a headdress of Spanish coins. One can only see her fair ankle and long candle-like fingers. She danced like an eagle in the vast sky, free and light. Adolfo watched with amazement.
Afterwards, the Binukot rested. Adolfo and Bagani fixed her hammock.
"Will the Binukot sing today?" Adolfo asked Bagani.
"Yes, she will sing as she swings her hammock. It is to remember how our ancestors used to travel in a balangay back in the day. Isn’t today your first time witnessing it? Brace yourself because it will take hours to finish."
Adolfo braced himself as he was told.
The Binukot started her epic song. The voice was full of intensity and story. It was both calming and revolting. When Adolfo heard the Binukot’s song, he was taken aback. By then, he found out that Annga, the maiden he met that one faithful night, was none other than the treasured Binukot. Adolfo wanted to talk to her, but he wondered if he would ever have another chance to do so.
The two of them met again after Adolfo waited for seven nights in the place where they first met. When he saw that Binukot’s face was exposed and that her bare feet were stepping on the soil, he immediately went near her. Adolfo wasn’t sure on what to do. He can’t touch the Binukot; even looking at her guarantees death to whoever dares to do so. He kneeled in front of the Binukot and said his apology.
“Stand up, Adolfo. It is just me." She softly said. Her voice sounded so still.
"How can I do that? You should behead me. I have committed a crime." Adolfo said in a voice full of regret.
"Kneel if you must, but I need you to listen, Adolfo. I have held the title of Binukot since I was four. I was loved and protected by my people. My palms are soft because I never did anything more than weave. My feet are weak because they never let me walk on my own. They bathe me, comb my hair, and put food on my plate. One might say I have lived a perfect life, a life that every woman in my tribe is envious of. But I do not want this." The Binukot stopped speaking for a while. Adolfo remained kneeling. His eyes were glued at her bare feet.
"When Datu Dakila and Inang Biyaya died at the hands of the Japanese right in front of me, I couldn’t do anything. It was the first time I realized my desire for freedom and power. Once, I secretly stepped my foot on the ground, and I have never felt connected with the earth. I loved how rough the earth felt on my feet. I then attempted to walk with a bare foot, and when I did, I tasted freedom. I never forgot that feeling, Adolfo. Every night, it haunts me in my sleep, begging me to reach it. Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever felt so suffocated when air is abundant? All of these, for marriage?" The Binukot laid her hands-on Adolfo’s shoulders. She helped him stand, and when they were finally looking into each other’s eyes, she smiled.
"I am more than the marriage they are trying to push into me, Adolfo. I am not as extraordinary as they think I am. What I want isn’t beauty and a spouse, what I need is strength so I can stand on my own two feet. I cannot do that when all I do was to sit and be protected. I cannot do that when I can’t even run for a long time because of my week feet. I need to be able to fight for myself. Do you understand me?" Adolfo nodded and stared into her eyes. It held the intensity of the most powerful storm. Like a bird finally realizing that there is life outside of its cage. Adolfo couldn’t help but be immersed in her magnificence.
"Let me protect you, then," he said. “Until you now know how to fight. Let me be with you when you escape. Let me be with you each night you come here. Let me be the cane you hold on to as you grow your wings. Let me be your legs." Annga nodded. The moonlight reflected on her gold skin.
Their eyes locked, and both of them shared a meaningful smile. That night, they shared a connection neither of them could describe.
The next few days became much different for the both of them. Every night, they met in the same exact spot. They would talk beside each other for hours. Adolfo enjoys listening to her. He asks a lot of questions just to make her talk. He asks her about her dreams, and she asks him about the city. By then, both of them realized that they had feelings for each other. However, just as when Adolfo decided to confess his feelings, something unfortunate happened.
"Go take the Binukot somewhere safe! The Japanese are coming!" He was shocked when, one night, as he was walking to the place where he and Annga usually met, he encountered a bloodied Donato. Panicking, he tried to offer help, but Donato refused.
"The Binukot is our priority. Keep her safe! The Japanese are here to get her." Adolfo nodded. With a worried face, he ran and went to the place where they were supposed to meet. He ran as fast as he could, desperate to see Annga, safe and sound. When he heard the familiar sound of clicking coins and saw the familiar fair figure of a woman, he stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. He sighed in relief. Annga stood there, looking in the distance with a terrified face. Adolfo followed her line of sight and was met with a large fire slowly engulfing the houses in the distance. His heart broke when he realized that one of the houses that are burning is the house of the newlyweds, Alon and Mahalina.
"Annga!" He shouted. Annga looked at him, and when he saw him, a sob escaped out of her mouth. In the distance, the hooves of the horses and the sound of gunshots can be heard. People are screaming in agony and helplessness.
"I am here, Annga!"
Adolfo ran to hug her and comfort her. Annga’s body weakened but she remained standing. Just as Annga opened her arms to welcome his embrace, a blinding flash of light engulfed him. Adolfo’s eye widened when he felt the familiar pull. He wiggled and tried to reach Annga, but the light pulled them apart. Annga, not knowing what was happening, reached for him. Desperate, he extends his arms as far as he can. Just as when he finally held her hand, a group of Japanese seized her and covered her face with a cloth. Adolfo cried as Annga screamed. There was a light, and everything went dark.
When Adolfo woke up, he was once again in the library. Baffled, he stood up and immediately stumbled because of a headache. He clutched his head, and it took him time to stop the dizziness. He looked at his watch, and found out that it was five in the afternoon. When he regained his stability, he immediately noticed the open book on the floor. He picked it up and read the pages. He spent the next hour reading the whole book.
He was shocked when he found out that the book narrated the story of how a mysterious man met the rebellious Binukot of the Panay tribe. It is a story of how him and Angga’s love story ended before it even began. The story narrated his life in the year 1902, from the time he almost drowned on the river to his mysterious disappearance when the Binukot was captured. Unfortunately, the book ended without him knowing what happened after. He felt an ominous feeling boiling up. He stood there unmoving, trying to think of ways to find out what happened to Annga.
Adolfo is desperate to know what happened after he left. He doesn’t know whether to feel relief or sadness. A part of him is afraid to know what happened after he was forcedly transported into the present. He feels fear, agony, and yearning. He wants to go back and protect Annga because he loves her, and that’s what he promised her.
He stared at the book he was holding in disbelief. What magic does the book hold? And why did it choose him, of all people? He skimmed the pages once again to find any clues. He stopped when a piece of paper fell. It is an old news article from the Manila Bulletin. Right, he thought, the Manila Bulletin was founded in the year 1900. It was about this time that they started publishing newspapers.
Adolfo took his time reading the article. As he read, the light in his eyes gradually faded. He slumped on the shelves and took a deep, shaky breath. He gulped the scream that was threatening to go out. He clutched his chest and took another breath. He can almost feel hysteria binding his body, making him paralyzed with both fear and pain. He crumpled the piece of paper. He did not feel his tears flow on his cheeks, but he felt the rage boiling inside of him.
For the last time, he read the article.
"...a body…found on the chieftain’s home, laid on a hammock...along with a heap of dead bodies."
In the end, no matter how they promised themselves, Annga wasn’t able to protect her tribe and Adolfo wasn’t able to protect the last Binukot.
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Come to us, dear poet, with April, with the dawn, with the spring, with the songs of the birds.
Victor Hugo, from a letter to Alphonse Esquiros written c. March 1853
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fatima aamer bilal, from we were put on this earth desperate, hungry and willing.
[text id: you get nervous when someone holds your hand, you wonder if they can feel the rot.]
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