Category Archives: Family Dynamics

The Wowrkings of a Family

DADDY by Kristin Garth — Punk Noir Magazine

PATTY GIDDIS                                                                Inbox – iCloud  3:23 am   Fine let’s talk this way   To:   Daddy,   Maybe this way you won’t hang up on me again or worry about my roommate knowing my sordid secret.  She’s not even here to peek over my shoulder at what I’m typing – actually would never […]

DADDY by Kristin Garth — Punk Noir Magazine

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Filed under Abandonment of Children, Abuse, Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Awareness, Children Murdered, Children that Didn't Have to Die, Choices, Cost of Living, Downward Spiral, Everyone Else's Fault, Excuses, Expectations, Family Dynamics, Incest, Interactions Shared with the World, Life, Losing Sight of What's Important, Loss, Love Became Murder, Memories Shared, Messed Up Values, Negligence, Nowhere Is Safe, Observations, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Re-Experiencing the Trauma, White Picket Fence

Cleared Up, a Poem

The moments before sunrise, when you’re, slowly, waking up, translated…

The Face is an Awakened, Orange


The Rainbow in the Pothole

The Tar Road that’s Mushy

The Shadows of the Cats & the Dogs

Trimmed to Uneven

The Awkwardness of the Faces

The Moldy Oranges, the Silver-Colored Fungi, the Brass-Colored Fungi

The Beards, the Sideburns, All Spotted & Gray

The Tattoos on the Arms

The Fish with the Flowers, with the Birds

Halfway in April, Half-Drunk Bottle of Wine

and this, is what the, family, became…pieces, with the, jagged edges on them, photo from online

Half the Tears

Half of the Brothers Karamazov

The People in the Rusted Photo Frames

With the Smoke Rings,

The Black Eyes………with the Times Running Loose & Around

My Father Sat Opposite from Me

My Mother Wiping the Windows, the Branches were Twisting Around

The Nest of the Warbling White-Eye, the Queen of the Night Slowly Withered Away

Without a Single Word

As the Skies Turned Light

And so, another night’s ended, and, you and your families had, sat in silence, and all that transpired between you and your family members is, the tick-tocking away of that clock on the wall, no words of exchange, and everybody going about her/his own life, like, strangers…

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Filed under Family Dynamics, Life, Parent-Child Interactions, Perspectives, Poetry, Properties of Life, White Picket Fence

The Rituals of Love

How to raise your own young with love, so they’d become, loving people too, by modeling for your kids, what the expressions of love should be, and surely, as they watched you, they too, will start, to express their love to each other, as well as everybody else they may meet in their own lives, translated…

“Come!  A kiss, a hug, embrace me!”, when the kids were in elementary school, every morning before they set out, when they’d come home at night, I’d opened my arms wide, to perform this “family ritual” of hugging them, and, as the kids felt that they are fulfilled, smiled radiantly.  And to this very day, my passionate daughter would still hug me like so, with her face close to mine, make her eyes crossed, to make me laugh out loud.  While for my son who’s shier, he’d minced his lips and smiled, and, hugged me, and patted my back, and I’d hugged him and patted his back.  As the kids get older, the arms that wrapped around me became, stronger, and stronger.

The prayers before bedtime, it’s another ritual of love we shared.  The whole family reset ourselves back to zero; “Dear heavenly father, we are all your children, we all need your guidance, your help.  Please give us the wisdom every day, the courage, the love so we can face up to the challenges daily, bless us with strength, with peace and safety”.  Sometimes, my kids would say, “Dear heavenly father, there’s an exam soon, I’m really nervous, please help me have more courage, more strengths…………” in the nightly prayers, we’d become, equals, no lectures, no pressures, just being humbled together, lifting our heads toward up high.

The affirmations, the praises we gave one another regularly, it’s also a ritual of love.  When my son was in middle school, his classmates made fun of him, “you moron!  Retard!”, to which he’d responded back, humorously, “Yeah, with the guarantees of wisdom, I’m bound to be able to make a living for myself.”, he’d effectively resolved the badness those classmates’ words might have on him.  I’d told my son often, “I’d found, that you are a kid, with so many good qualities, you have the frugal morals of your grandfather, your father’s punctuality.”, and I’d told my daughter, “You have that flair to do major things in life, you will become, so very capable like your grandmother in the future, even more talented than I!”, the children respected us as their adults, and became fully confident, filled with their own hopes and dreams of their own futures.

Some say, that there’s this space inside our hearts, and only love can fill it up.  If this space is emptied, then, we would feel empty inside, to the point of feeling depressed.  So, I’d thought of some ways, to fill the love into that space inside my own children’s hearts.  In our home, there’s these warming rituals, hmmmmmmmmmmm!  Let’s call it, the “scientific behaviors of expressions of our love”, through the endless rehearsals, turning into this good cycle, filling up all the spaces in our hearts, with love.

And so, growing up in this environment full of positivity, the children are bound to be more optimistic, because the parents not just preached of these values to their own young, they’d, shown the kids, how to perform these behaviors using love too.

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Filed under Because of Love, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Interactions Shared with the World, Life, Modeling Behaviors, Parent-Child Interactions, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life

My Husband & His Empty Nest

The empty nest of, a, man, that’s odd, isn’t it?  Thought only mothers have that, but apparently, this daddy is, experiencing it, after he sent his own daughter off abroad, translated…

Without any noises, my husband once more, snuck, into, our daughter’s room, to write calligraphy, and I’d asked him several times playfully, if he was, missing her in her absence, he’d always, smiled it off.  Since last year as we’d sent our daughter off to the U.S. to start high school, he who wasn’t talkative, fell, all the more, silent, and now, he’d become, quite, weird, hidden himself in our daughter’s room to write calligraphy, and just, stared into her, walls.

Since our daughter began preschool, because I had to get to school at seven in the morn, the sweet burdens of taking her to and picking her up from school, became my husband’s, from the moment he’d gone to wake our daughter up, to doing her braids, changing her into her school outfits, to picking her up to take her home at night, bathing her, bedtime stories, he’d, taken on all on his, own.  After our daughter went on into elementary school, he couldn’t put up with how lazy his class full of students took to learning, he’d, filed for retirement then, and began his job after retirement as our daughter’s, chauffeur, taking her to and from school, to the talent courses after school, the weekend study sessions, the competitions on the weekends, I’d not needed to take any part in it.

and this, is what it, looked, like…comic from online

As my daughter was through her first six months of private middle school education, he couldn’t bear to see her head, buried in books day and night, and, after he’d discussed with her, he’d transferred her to an international academy over thirty kilometers away from our home.  I’d originally hoped that my daughter could go to the school on room and board, and yet, in both their, insistence, my husband started, driving her to and from, rain or shine, and I’d not heard him complained of how trying it was, to drive the long ways.

I had, originally, wanted my daughter to finish her high school years in the international academy, then she could apply for university out of the country.  And yet, my daughter’s, “Daddy, I want to go abroad to high school, so I can, catch on in the university years.”  And although, he’d felt unwilling, but, he’d, set up the paperwork, the applications, and went with her, as she’d started her school internationally, he’d stayed for six weeks abroad with her.  While my daughter quickly adapted to the life, and yet, as my husband returned, he had a hard time, readapting himself to no longer needing to take our daughter to and from, but thankfully, our daughter would email the lessons that she was learning, to discuss with him about, to alleviate his missing her.

I’d always wanted to make fun of my husband, there are only the moms who are having a hard time in their, empty nest, there’s almost no stories of empty nest dads, looks like, I need to, file for retirement soon, to help him out of the gloom, of our daughter flying out solo.

And so, this father is experiencing the hard-hitting, empty nest, because he was the one, interacting with his own daughter since she was younger, and, certainly, he’d felt the strong empty nest, as she’d gone abroad to study, this just shows how much the man loves his daughter, how he’d, cherished her so, and only wanted what makes his own daughter, happy.

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Filed under Empty Nest, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Parent-Child Interactions, Parenting/Parenthood


The complete strangers, related by blood, living, underneath, that same, roof here!  Translated…

That place called “home”, with the windows and doors getting opened up and closed repeatedly, biologically, it’d, kept the place ventilated, but, the corners inside the minds, something was, amiss—the warmth of the harmony of the air, taken away, with the coldness that, took over.

The epidemic had, kicked Taiwan’s line of defenses down, but it’d, made the homes, closed tighter, the windows, the doors too.

I’d, stared at the blank in my schedule, like the fast car, with the brakes slammed down so suddenly, and I’d felt, a little dizzy by it.  Tried to adjust myself to this sense of, dis-comfort here, sighed, left my own room, walked, into, the living room.

illustration from

strangers that I live with…

My mother was, flipping through the finance magazines on the supper table, while my father was sitting opposite of her, listening to the English broadcasting on the radio, with that scent of foreignness in the air, but that’s, about, it.  I walked toward that autumn orange couch, sat down by the far corner, their eyes shifted toward me, we’d greeted one another, then, the sounds of voices speaking in foreign tongues again.  I’d started, staring around me, and zoomed in on my parents, I’d, secretly watched them, stared, and yet, as I looked on them, that weird feeling came, how did these two strange creatures, came, about?

When did mom start reading this kind of magazines?  When did ad start learning English?  When did he get those new glasses?  Where did mom get her top?  The countless questions came to mind, and yet, I can’t answer a single one of them.

From before, I’d, prided myself for being, observant, and yet, I’d, found myself, for the very first time, in this, current, identity, crisis, and the people are those whom I live with, my families!  I’d felt numb in the skulls then, and the cold sweat started rolling down inside my heart.  I knew, that I knew something of them, it’s just, that those, unimportant details of their lives, got, cast to the back, of my mind is all.

The mist of the mysteriousness of memories, saw I couldn’t defy it, it’d, started, showing itself off in front of me.  Oh, how I’d, longed to, tear it apart, to see what’s in it.  And finally, I’d, admitted defeat, and, left in my own, anxiousness.

The days that followed, I’d, repeated these, same, behaviors, and yet, at that final standoff, I’d always, run away from the fights.  The hatred grew inside of me—the house full of gloom I’d felt, can be, dissipated, because there’s no, ventilation at my home.

A week later, I’d finally inquired my parents, in an, unsettled voice, “What are you doing?”, and, for that moment in time, I saw, the sparks, came out from their, eyes.  And, that very moment, without any words of exchange, I’d, come to, understand—that I’d, chosen to, abandon this world, that’s why, this world had, distanced itself, from me.

Opening up those closed tightly doors and windows, this time, I no longer, worried, that the connections I’d found back, will vanish with the air that flowed in, because I’d, already, found a way, to, preserve it.

And so, this, is, you, realizing, how little you knew about your own loved ones, and, it scared you, because, despite how you are related to them, you don’t know anything about them, their likes, their dislikes, their hobbies, and now, you can do something, to change that, this is the opportunity that presented itself to you, by the outbreaks, because all of you are, locked in, in that, same location.

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Filed under Awareness, Family Dynamics, Life, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Wake Up Calls

Locked Down

We are, strangers, living, under that, same roof here!  There’s the estrangement, the distance, between these two family members here, translated…

Thinking back six months ago, the city had never actually been, under lockdown.

At noon on the fifteenth, the city fell under another wave of alert, the footages from the foreign media press made it look like the prophecy of doomsday.  As I returned home, I saw my mother sunk inside that single seat, half lain down, with her head, neck on one end, her knees, across the other side, made a V, with her long white hair that hung over to the sides, fuzzing up the cloth of the seat.  My mother didn’t open her eyes, but her eyeballs were turning underneath her eyelids, “go wash your hands as you come in,” she’d, dictated to me.

At that moment, the city is, completely, locked inside her house then, due to the halting of the school sessions, my mother could no longer go do her volunteer work at the school, and, most of the time, she’d, sunk in her chair, and occasionally, lifted her eyes to see what’s on the T.V., hearing the news blaring out the numbers, falling asleep, then suddenly, awaken by the fire alarms in the kitchen, she’d gotten up in a hurry, gone to the kitchen, since her knee cap had deteriorated, the footsteps sounded uneven, the echoes of the sounds stopped, by the door, I’d not wanted to let her know, that I’d, discovered her, she’d used the slowest speed, pulled back the door, but the door made the clacking sound from the ceiling, the radio still blared out the lessons, I’d keyed hard on the keyboards, some meaningless symbols, to try to cover it up, but of no avail, I saw my mother out of my peripheral vision, by the cracks of my door, I’d, heighten up my voice, and, she’d, immediately shifted her gaze back to my hand, and the eye she can’t see started, blurring, and rolled around, I’d turned my head, and, stared at her, and, felt that anxiousness that came with me, being, watched, and used the noises of the words I’d blurted out to her, to lock myself in, to not see if she’s still, standing there.

illustratin from

“Before you were married, you’d, exactly like you are now,” that was all she’d said to me at lunch, I’d continued chewing those words I wanted to say to her, and swallowing them all down with the food, even though, I’d never, examined it closely, what exactly was it that I wanted to say to her, and although, I’d, kept my throat locked up, not made a single noise, but the chewed up food, mixed with my saliva, stayed in my throat, and finally, they can’t be held in anymore, “what’s wrong with that?”, and what came after, was the shock, and this time, it was her jaw that’s, dropping, chewing her food with her mouth wide open, and the slurping sound of the soup, interrupted by the burp, signaling she’s full, I’d remembered that the order you ate your food showed your philosophy toward life, the personality traits assigned to those who ate the meats, the vegetables, the soups, but my mother didn’t fit in any of these categories.

Until the final day of the stage three alerts, I’d found myself back in my elementary years, imagined what my mother was doing when I was away, and I saw this afternoon, that she sank into the couch, falling asleep, or, agilely, used the toes, to pick up the remote control nearby, I’d started, giggling then, like I was the one, peeping outside of her door, if my peeps can pass through the peephole, and matched up to her gaze, “wash your hands first when you’d come home”, she’d told me.

And, there’s, that estrangement of this mother and daughter, the daughter seemed to want to get closer to her mother, but, there’s, that aloofness, that not-to-be-bothered feel to her mother’s, manners, that kept the woman away from connecting to her, and, this is magnified, because they are sharing the same roofs, living together at home, during stage three alerts.

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A More Advanced Version of a Daughter Thief

This is how to, pave the way, to make sure, that your own children will be, more than, willing to stay close to you, instead of, getting as far away from you as they possibly can, when they’re older, by putting in the time to spend with them, by treating them well, translated…

I’d been a daughter thief for a couple of decades now, and I believe my ability to “steal” is, excellent, that I’d gained every time I “stole”.  Thought I’d, learned from the best, and become, the best, but, my throne is slowly, stolen from me, from my daughter who’s, in her, twenties now.

On the weekend we went shopping together, the two of us went trying on the outfits in the fitting rooms.  My daughter’s sharpened eyes, always found the fitting clothes in the young ladies’ sections for her old lady.  At the checkout, I was so happy I’d, found the bathing suits for the fountains of my youth, and naturally, I’d, paid for my daughter’s tab too.

Every now and then, she’d recommended to me the restaurants for afternoon tea, she knew, that her mom longed for romance the most.  And, in the setting of the light being just right, setting of the romantic mood, enjoying the sweetness of the treats, I’d been, more than willing to, pull my credit card out, and pay for the tabs.  I’d missed how when my daughter was still younger, and how we’d gone traveling as a whole family.  But, for the younger generations that’s just started working, they don’t make enough money, and don’t have that many days of, vacation time either.  And now, as we invited her to travel, all she needed to do, was to set the time aside for the vacation, and, we’d, covered her for the hotels, the restaurants, and the transportation too, and, it’d not ached our hearts, spending, the extra wads of, cash for her.

Actually, I’m really glad, of this, advanced version of a daughter-thief in my home.  Because of her coming out shopping with me, I was able to dress in a younger fashion, and it’d, made me more willing, and open to try a variety of styles of attires.  Our closets are, opened to one another, and, we are, about thirty years apart, and yet, we’d, traded clothes from time to time.  And because of her finding more things out for me, I got the opportunities to, treat myself better.  To find a good and valid excuse, to stay away from my own kitchen, to go into the restaurants I normally wouldn’t, venture into, and gotten the opportunities, to try the different varieties of foods.

Into my empty nest now, and I’d, cherished these outings with my families more.  Money is easily made, and, the limited resources we’d exchanged, for that unlimited blessing of our daughter’s, companionship, more than worth it!  If one day, maybe, my daughter’s “more advanced” version of being a thief might gain a couple more extra “thieves”.  But actually I’d wanted, make the extra sets of keys for my future grandchildren, for them, to come and “steal” things from my house, anytime they wish to.

And so, this is the point, money isn’t that important, the time shared is, and yet, most of you adults, spends all your working years, working, working, working away, saving up just enough (and maybe not even) for your own children so they will have more than enough materials, like you never had when you were growing up, without realizing, that spending the time with your children when they’re still, young is the most important thing, and, in this family, the parents must’ve already done their job as the parents correctly, which is why the daughter is now, more than willing to, spend more time, accompanying the parents out, and these parents are now, blessed, to have their daughter as their, “partner in crime”.

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Filed under Because of Love, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Life, Parent-Child Interactions, Parenting/Parenthood, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life

The Lines on Your Face Grew, Softer…

Why are you, not as mean to him as you were to me???

I watched the lines on your face grew, softer, as you, interact with my son, and he loves you, and I guess, that I feared you more than I loved you, because you’d, always made those, too harsh, too high for me to achieve expectations.  But why is it, that when you see my son the lines on your face grew, softer, huh???

Oh, maybe, it’s, how you’re now, a grandparent, and, grandparents’ only job is to, spoil and love their own grandchildren, right?  But, why can’t YOU, love me like, you love my son too from before, huh???

Was it because, back when we were younger, you had to work, to provide for us, and the heavy burdens of the household economics, crushed you down, grounded you, minced you up (like those ground beef, ground pork that got, “passed” out of those, meat grinders???)

Or, maybe, you’re, just overcompensating, for what you’d missed out on when I was growing up, not spent the time, not kissed me goodnight, not read me those, illustrated books, that you’re now, making it up, with my son, was that it?

The lines on your face may have grown, softer, but, guess what, daddy dearest, my heart had long been, hardened like that STEEL, and, nothing’s gonna, EVER, break this, once-fragile, porcelain again.

And, don’t think, that for one second, I will, EVER, allow you, anywhere, N-E-A-R, my son (yeah uh, as if  had one already???  Oh wait, my DEAD Emily should be THIRTEEN already and yet, where is this, nonexistent, “son” of mine again???), ever, because you don’t deserve to be a grandpa, and besides, just like me, my “son”, never has a father, unless, you want to go meet him, and he would be………what’s that dude’s face again???  Oh yeah, it’s, DONOR X!

And that’s, one more session with the circus full of, FREAKS, with ME the QUEEN “herself”(so, I’m still referring to me in the third-person, call me crazy, why don’t ya!!!) as the RING LEADER…………

Show’s over, you know what you need to pay my secretaries (no, I’m no longer, reintroducing them again, ‘k???).

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Filed under Abuse, Bad Parenting Behaviors, Family Dynamics, Life, Parent-Child Interactions, Parenting/Parenthood, Properties of Life, White Picket Fence

The Irony, of a Family Portrait of All of Us, as a Big, & Happy, Family…

This is, the portrait, of, D-Y-S-F-U-N-C-T-I-O-N!!!

And, here, comes, that, P-U-N-C-H LINE: we are not now, nor had we, EVER, been, a big, and happy, family, and yet, you wanted to, paint us out like that, why???  Oh, to satisfy your own, little, delusions, that nothing had happened, that everything, was, peachy-dandy, is that right???

Well, got a, NEWSFLASH for ya: it ain’t, NEVER, EVER, happenin’, ‘cuz, just as you’d, suggested from a long, long, long time ago, he wouldn’t have that photo of us all, as a big and happy, family, without HIS WHORE, and his, illegit, now it’s only, his illegit, ‘cuz he’d, split up with his ho already!

And so, what hung on that, god damn wall, of the second-floor living room, of the CASTLE of COUNT DRACULA, was still that photo of me, in that red skirt (yeah, I know, weird, right!!!), standing, beside his parents, with that little mother-FUCKER, stupid son of his, still DROOLING too, I might add! On his, DEAD mama’s, lap, and where were my cousins back then???  Oh yeah, they were both still on their ways, to get, “made”, nowhere to be found!

The irony, of us as a big, and happy family?  You wish!  And now, here’s, the NEWEST family photo “makeup” for me, and my, big and happy family: me, with this DEAD, nonexistent, daughter in my lap, with her two older brothers (still on the way to getting adopted by me, so I really can’t tell you their names yet!), one on the left, the other, on my right (kinda like how those two DEAD doggy uncles of Emily had sat!!!), with this, DEAD, nonexistent, EMILY, with the cute head of curls (Which I’m still unsure if that, would be what she would have???  But hey, that was, what I saw, back in, ’08-ish???), on my lap, and all SIX of us (with those two angel boys???) would be, looking, AT that camera, and saying, C-H-E-E-S-E!

and here’s, what that might, look like, in a, painting, found online…


That, would be, our big and happy, family, greetings, for all of you guys, on Christmas, and, have a happy new year too, ‘k???

Yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh…………hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm (this is the “shrink”, looking down at her watch!) time’s up, see you next week, same time???

Oh, and don’t forget, to pay my secretaries (I don’t need to reintroduce the three of those, “ladies” to you guys now, do I???), and, I’m currently charging, FOUR cents per article, per “client”, instead of the TWO shiny pennies I’d been charging, for the past, decade or so, time for a raise, for us all here!

Yay, raise for us all!!!

Yeah, right…

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Filed under Abuse, Abuser/Enabler Interaction Style, Family Dynamics, Life, Perspectives, Properties of Life, White Picket Fence

How Do You Make Up for Missing the Coming of Age of the Children?  In the Custody Battles, Do Not Make the Damages Even Harder

How family relations is too important to overlook for all you parents who are, too busy, making ends meet, and NOT spending enough time, with your own young, borrowing from the failed marriage of the singer, Wang, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…

The marriage of the singer, Wang and his wife, Lee went bust, the woman stayed silent for two whole days, then, started on the offensive, quoted the female blogger, “the one who’s absentee always has a valid excuse”, mentioned how Wang missed all the important milestones of their children’s lives.  The experts told, that the “false” single families are increasing by the numbers today, that there would need to have the “high concentration” of family interactions, to make up for it.

Lee believed, that if you cared, then, you will make the time for it, that love is reflected on the behaviors, not on what is being said, but she’d forgiven, backed down, and Wang stayed absentee, and his children had been disappointed repeatedly, and cried over, over, and over again.  A lot of the middle school and elementary school instructor stated that their story is a great example of “family education” and “emotional education”.

The associate professor of World Journalism University, Jeng stated, whether it be single-parent families or falsified single parenthood, there are, many stories of children coming out of these families well-rounded, the forefront is that the parents need to give the children what they needed the most.  Jeng told, if it’s a false single-parent family, the couple need to explain why they’re absent in the children’s lives; if it’s a single parent family, then, the parents must consider what’s best for the child, when fighting over the parental and custody rights.

The associate professor of Human Development and Family major of the Taiwan National Education University, Wei said, whether it be single parent families or not, the focus should be on having high-quality interactions.  Liking taking an hour of your days, to just spend time with your young, to sit down for a meal together, to exercise together, to stroll together, otherwise, the family interactions, lacking in high quality time together, will eventually, crack, wide open.

And so, this still showed, how very important it is, for you, stupid (b/c that is what you all are???) parents, to MAKE the time, to spend it with your own young, because, they are only young for a very brief moment in your lives, and, if you don’t take advantage of the time with them when they were little, do NOT expect them to be closer to you when they’re older, and, there’s just, NO making up for lost time, with your children IF you had missed out on their younger years, do NOT think, that you can make up for it because you can’t, and that, is the lesson to be taken away, from this.

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