Afraid of Greatness (in Language) (Really?)

I recently have been terrified of learning and using the Japanese language.  Why?  Because I am terrified of the millions of mistakes I know will ensue the moment I attempt to use anything beyond a small “Ohayou,” or “Konnichiwa,” (which I already happen to mess up regularly).  

What is it that has me be afraid of these millions of little mistakes, which I have make thousands of times before with other languages?  

Truly, I believe it is because I know what happens when I make mistakes.  When I make a mistake, firstly, I am opening myself up, making myself vulnerable to all those around me; secondly, by being open and vulnerable, I am allowing myself a chance to learn more about who I truly am, what I have inside.  And, frankly, I’m terrified of what I might find.  Not because I think what I might find is bad.  Certainly not.  But because, as the beautiful words of Marianne Williamson said, my deepest fear is not that I am inadequate, but that I am powerful beyond measure.  What if, by opening up, making mistakes, and throwing myself into learning Japanese, I finally discover what I want to do with my life, and I go and do it?  

How amazing would that be?  

And, thus, how terrifying.

 

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Women’s Gym Buzz

Something that I noticed today, was how our mutual love of human connection, and the pursuit of it, help build connections and relationships among one another.  Allow me to explain with the circumstances of today’s noticing.  Be forewarned, that this might just be a female thing… and it might not be…, but I’m going to write about it from the female perspective and such.

At the gym this evening, one of the ladies was asking politely about me, various this-and-thats.  However, the moment one of her questions led to my explanation of a boy I’ve somewhat recently met, the polite, casual interest of the surrounding ladies/girls turned electric – anyone could have felt the excitement and intrigue, as eyes, ears, and smiles all focused on me and my wacky story (yes, it is actually wacky, I promise).

In those few sentences, polite acquaintance took a sharp turn toward a friendship sort of connectedness.  These women/girls became invested in my life and the outcome of my story.  They can hardly wait to hear what happens next, they even checked schedules for when they next would see me, so they could plot out what all could happen between tonight and then, already in preparation for more of my story.

And the best part is that we all know the story might go nowhere.  However, we so care about intimate human connection, that we want everyone to have it, and we can enjoy others’ pursuit and acquisition of it.  (Yes, perhaps there are a handful of people who are so angry and sad and lonely without human connection, that they wish no one else to have it.  However, in everyday circumstances, we are nearly as excited for a friend finding a boyfriend (and half the time for anyone, really – have you never rooted for that guy or girl in a film?), as we would be for ourselves.)  These ladies/girls are so incredibly excited for my potential situation, that they can hardly stand it – one even did a sort of little dance, and they all were cracking up laughing, with joy and excitement at my whole situation (as I explained it in broken Japanese (though, to my delight, successfully!)).

Anyway, I just wanted to share how beautiful I find that whole event from this evening.  We went from a group of ladies/girls who happen to be at the same gym, to a group of people tied together by the common bond of love.  As human beings we have bio-philia – we love living beings, and especially other humans.  And it’s so fun getting to share that love with others (thereby satisfying part of that bio-philia by bringing us closer with those others around us) as we pursue another form of love and connection in our lives.

Gosh, it would be really fun if this whole story of mine turned out totally fabulous – what a tale to tell, it would be!  ;P

 

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Architecture is a gray area

Walking along with a friend yesterday, I paused and backtracked along the walkway, until I reached what would have been the center of the road (I say ‘what would have been’ instead of ‘what was’ simply because we were on an elevated walkway, a couple or few stories up from ground level, so we weren’t actually in the road… plus, I’m not so sure the road actually went directly underneath us, as we were in front of a train station… anyway…).  I gazed, intrigued, down the corridor of this main street.  We were a few floors up on all the buildings, and so, instead of seeing the gray lower portions of each building, we saw the upward-reaching, colorful advertisements attached like little stick-on banners (although they were glass or metal or the likes) on most of the buildings.  All I could think was, “Look at all the colors.”

We had earlier been talking about how gray Japan seems to me.  Not as a society, but in terms of its buildings.  Everything constructed just seems so gray, I can’t imagine why anyone would want such dullness?  Streets, buildings, houses – everywhere you look is a shade of gray as its main color.

Now, as we looked out on this surprising mini-sea of colors, Japan seemed even more crazy to me.  Why?  Because who on Earth is going to see those advertisements?  Sure, we just noticed them, but only just barely, and I can’t read any of them, anyway, because each individual ad is too small (assuming I could read the Japanese in the first place).  Even on the ground, craning up your neck, you’d hardly be able to read anything more than the first one or two signs (Yes, I have tried many-a-times).  So why on Earth is 1) advertising so inaccessible to the eye of the passer-by, and 2) all the color up where no one gets to enjoy it, and all the gray down low for everyone to see?

In expressing my thoughts and sentiments on the matter, my friend shared with me the fact that Japanese law only allows buildings’ exteriors to be black, white, or gray.  Why?  ‘So everyone is together,’ he replied.

This struck me even more odd.  Not for uniformity, as I felt it was forcing people to be, requiring them to set aside their individual personalities and self-expressions, but for togetherness, for unity.  Now perhaps this was merely how this one person worded it.  Perhaps it is the way everyone who knows about the law would word it.

Nonetheless, it really had me think about how I was viewing the situation.  Perhaps it isn’t such a troublesome annoyance, so much as a team-building, unifying experience.  Maybe that’s why Japanese architecture is renowned – because they have so much emphasis on lines, angles, shaping, knowing that they have limited options on color.  And perhaps it isn’t.  Either way, it’s a fun thought experiment to play, and it reminds me to talk more to local people about things that rub me an odd way – perhaps they have the keys to transforming my experience, simply by sharing the Why behind the event.

 

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Life & Illness

Today has been a beautiful day for many reasons- weather, activities, clothes, company, sights, etc. And yet, here I am at 6pm feeling dreadfully ill. Some days, you know? Haha

I guess I’all have to take what I said to a friend today (though it was about pets, and his not wanting them, because he didn’t want to be sad about their dying down the road): If you want to be amazingly happy, you have to have that stint of sadness at some point- they come together. So, if you never want to be sad, then you also never really get to be happy and experience joy in life… I’m sure this ties into my getting sick at the end of this wonderful day… too non-functional right now to reason it all out any further…

 

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Henna, Henna, & Hannah

Today, I shared henna with a Japanese girlfriend of mine.  She thoroughly enjoyed it, as did I.  We drew on one another (well, she wrote a Kanji on me, which, being a sort of picture, I think can count in the drawing spectrum), and had a delightful time just sitting around until it all dried, and we could go get marshmallows and chocolate to make our s’mores (to have with our mulled/spiced wine).

Now, what do I find delightfully comical about this?  Neither of us commented (and I didn’t even notice until just now) on the name of it.  Henna, a word which, to me in English, means fabulous dried, crushed, and paste-made leaves for hair and skin coloring use.  However, in my almost-daily life now, I use the word henna, a Japanese word that means “strange”.  So this strange, new paste stuff, henna, which Hannah has brought to share, is suitably named.  😀

Kind of henna, huh?

 

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Friday Fame

Today is Friday, and it was a beautiful day.   I experienced lots of love from people, and gave lots of love to people and to myself.  As I passed an empty classroom, I recognized a student’s muffler, and decided to leave a secret note.  An hour later, three girls appeared in the room where I had been secretly sleeping in the sun all morning, their having deciphered my note.  I was so proud, I didn’t even mind that they woke me.  😀

A few hours later, heading to the end-of-year party at my other school, I noticed that I was surrounded on the bus.  We got off at the train station, and the girls all gathered ’round me to say their farewells (which happened to include, “I miss you already,” and “We love Hannah-Sensei.”).  As I walked away, the thought popped into my head, “I have a posse.”

And then I burst out laughing, utterly delighted, and simultaneously slightly appalled. I, Hannah, actually have my own sort of posse.  Wow.  What a life.  Michael (another language assistant) was totally right, when he said I was probably surrounded by a group of students somewhere unexpected, that time I wasn’t responding to messages.  Huh.  Guess this means I’m kind of famous (and the liked kind of famous!).  SOOoooooo weird!

Although this does have it make more sense, when you consider the fact that one student is painting me for one of her major projects in the art school…

 

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World AIDS Day

Today is December First, World AIDS Day.  First, thank you, Hal, for everything you have been and have yet to be in my life and in the world at large.  You are in every note I hear, and your goodness lives in my heart with every good deed I do that shows people – and with extreme clarity – that they are loved and valued, and especially whenever I get to share music with them.  I love you.

On that note, I thought I would share what I wrote a few years back for a World AIDS Day performance/show.  I collaborated with my neighbor and friend Jessie, and we did a reading with music, for which I read the following (and, naturally, cried, because I’m me*), and she played guitar in the background, and eventually led into singing “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack.

I spent some time that day talking with my friend Hal about the experience of living with AIDS, in preparation for the celebration/performance/show that evening, because I really didn’t know what to write.  (I had agreed to it only that week, and possibly even just the day beforehand, because another friend really wanted us to do something in it.)  This was the resulting ponderings after that discussion with Hal.

——–

The long and winding road of life is, indeed, long and winding.  Constantly, when I think about life, I remember the line from the fuzzy blue fellow, Stitch: “Is little, and broken, but still good.  Yeah… still good.”  The first time I heard the line, I couldn’t help but to hear it as talking about life.  Originally a simple statement about an odd little family, that line has been in existence for me every minute, every moment of my life.  The first part is a fill in the blank, but the second remains constant: “…, but still good.  Yeah… still good.”  Life is hard and life is fun; it is painful and it is calming; it constantly gives us trouble and it constantly provides us with joy.  Life sometimes just straight up sucks, but it is still good.  Yup… still good.  I cannot say that I know pain, but I can say that I know my pain.  I have not lived through everything, but I have lived through my things.  And in all my stuff – all my pains and my everything – , I’ve discovered that there is always going to be the bad stuff.  Though crazy , I enjoy the fact, because with every event, there is opportunity; with every hardship, there can be growth.  I still remember often seeing the line “Pain is weakness leaving the body” when I was younger.  It was an Army poster in my eldest brother’s room.  It never made me think of the Army.  Truly, with every pain in life, one can grow stronger – there is always something to get from every situation.  The part that people often miss is that they don’t look for it, and they are left in pain for who knows how long; they are left in sadness until they’re either shocked out of it, forget about it, or die.  Rather than be stuck on the bad things that happen in life, if we were to take them head-on, bash into them, and yank out whatever is there for us to have, to learn, we would no longer be subject to…anything, really.  Sometimes life just lifes you in the butt, but if you learn from the experience, if you let that weakness leave you, you can come out stronger than ever from it, happier than ever thought possible.

I cannot recall how many people in my life have AIDS or any other disease, virus, or whatever.  And it isn’t because I don’t know they have it.  I know it, but I don’t notice it.  These people, the ones with the life-threatening illnesses, are the people who see life differently, clearly.  These are the people who grab life by the horns and go for a ride.  These are the people who see life for the opportunity that it is.  These are the people who climb their mountains with a smile on their faces and in their hearts.  These are the people who can teach the world to live.

Sometimes life does life you in the butt – as often is the case in having AIDS or any other life-threatening illness.  When you see it happen, help.  Encourage.  Love.  Learn.  Remember that, though it sucks, there is still something to get out of it, even if it doesn’t happen to you.  Learn from others whom you see living life – don’t sit around and dwell in sadness; grab it up with both arms, give it a good hug and let it go; don’t fight with it – dance with it.  And when you see other people struggling, with whatever they may be struggling, remind them that they, too, have a choice:  they can be hurt and go nowhere.  They can sit it out or they can dance.  I implore you: dance with them.  Dance.

—–cue singing by Jessie —–

“I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’
Lovin’ might be a mistake, but it’s worth makin’
Don’t let some Hellbent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin’ out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance

I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder)
I hope you dance (Where those years have gone?)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder?)

Written by Tia Sillers, Mark Sanders • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
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*Yes, that grammar drives me nuts.  I.  I am I. !!!!!  😀


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clothing’s expression

Did you ever hear that 2006 song by Adam and Andrew, “Emo Kid”?  (We always called it “The Emo Song”, but it looks like it is actually called “Emo Kid”.)  A few friends and I loved it back in high school, because so much of it resonated with us, and for various reasons.  Yes, it was meant to be a parody, but so much of it rang true in our lives.  Anyway, I recently found myself singing one of the lines from it over and over again (though I hadn’t listened to the song in years):

[…]I feel real deep when I’m dressing in drag.
I call it freedom of expression,
most just call me a fag[…]

Somehow, the line stuck with me.  For days, it looped around in my head, the boy singing that line, taking up shop as one of the regular horses in the carousel of my mind.  Eventually the following resulted:

one (ひとつには)

At one point, I recalled a recent discussion of why girls needn’t be called “Tomboys”, but simply “girls”, because it is just part of who they are.  If they like sports or wearing baseball caps and loose t-shirts and shorts, then they like it – it has nothing to do with whether they are truly girls or not.

At first, I didn’t like the feeling of that discussion, because I, myself, was a Tomboy in my early school days, and I was proud of it.  Even now, I still throw on loose sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt and jacket, and a crooked cap from time to time… and that’s completely normal.  But then I understood a new side of what the discussion was aiming for. It is entirely socially acceptable for me to do that, to act and dress as a boy.  But not the other way around, because girls can be like boys, but boys can’t be like girls.

As women, we have three general genres of clothing: Regular, Girly, and Tomboy/Comfy.  Depending on the girl, the frequency of each can be drastically different, and sometimes is affected by the matter of being at home with friends and family versus being out in public.  On average, though, we all wear all three. (Do recall, this is purely my experience in life, so might not be accurate in other people’s lives.)  I know that I tend to go much more the Tomboy/Comfy route whenever it gets cold out, and super Girly when it’s hotter weather.

My entire life, I have experienced that it is fine for girls to wear men’s clothing. We do it all the time.  ‘The boyfriend t-shirt’ has even become a marketing strategy, making specifically for women t-shirts that mimic the style of a man’s t-shirt.  (I think it has even gone into ‘Boyfriend Sweaters’ and a couple others now…)  Any day of the week, it is acceptable, and often even appreciated, for women to go out in their low-down, comfy clothes, which really are just clothes that look like, and might even be, men’s clothing.  So why is it not okay for men to do the same with women’s clothing?

People tend to have a mini freak-out even when they see a man dressed in clothing that is not strictly and traditionally male clothing, let alone actual women’s clothing.  ‘He’s pushing the gender line with that outfit,’ I’ve heard too many people say.  But why does that have to be so?  Rather, does that have to be so?  Can a man not wear women’s clothing the same as women are allowed to wear men’s clothing?  I think he can – the observers just have to do some rearranging of what we think it means for a man to wear women’s clothing.

two

How can we expect men to be self-expressed in their clothing, when they have so few options?  I want to see variety in men’s clothing choices.  I remember several years ago, walking through the Gap, wondering why men had so few style options, and women so many.  “What gives?  I would be so bored as a man,” I thought as I perused the entire men’s section in two minutes, after spending 45 in the women’s (before taking a break, because there was just so much stuff!).  The only time I have seen true variety has been here in this duality of style that Japan (particularly Tokyo, where I am) is.  Men either wear the standard button-up collar with a suit, or they are walking the streets in God knows what.  You can imagine which ones have me beaming with delight and interest when they walk past.  (On that note, so far as gender boundaries go for street dress here, there is a fabulously large and exciting gray area like I have never before seen.)

three

When men spend time to fix their hair, is anyone opposed to how good it looks as a result?  Definitely not.  What’s the difference between doing hair and doing makeup?  Makeup is just one more thing that enhances one’s appearance.

I don’t wear makeup almost ever, not because I dislike the effects, but because I’m lazy, and I’m happy with how I look without makeup (though I do occasionally make myself up real nice).  However, no one has ever declared that I am pushing the boundaries between male and female by not wearing makeup.  So why do people have to comment when a man does wear makeup?

Some students informed me one day that a male student wears makeup.  My easy and thrilled response was a simple, “I know.  Doesn’t he look great?”  And they were baffled.
“Isn’t that weird that he wears makeup and is a guy?” they inquired.
“Why would that be weird?  It enhances his appearance, making him even more gorgeous than he is without it.  And he likes looking his best.  So why would he not wear makeup, if that’s how he feels he looks best?”

Does it really matter, if the only difference is that a guy looks better?  I can’t see it any differently than a guy spending time fixing his hair – it merely enhances his appearance.  Women wear makeup to enhance their appearance, so how about letting men do the same, since it also enhances their appearance?

four

Men and women alike wear makeup, and look fabulous for it (well, so long as they do it well, of course, because it does take some training to get it to do what you want it to do (again, why I almost never bother with it)).  And other men and women, like myself, don’t wear makeup, and also look great.  Lady Gaga showed up for a photo shoot dressed as a man (and a totally gorgeous and classy one at that), saying that he was a certain expression of a part of herself.  What if we were to allow and encourage people to express themselves in their appearance, similar to how photographers had to do with Lady Gaga (and then even advertised it to the public)?  Even though she was not dressed as they’d anticipated, they rolled with it, because this man is part of who Lady Gaga is, and they were there to capture the essence of Lady Gaga.  So they did.

Rather than being rigid about things being ‘only for boys’ or ‘only for girls’ to wear, what if we allowed people to dress as they felt empowered, self-expressed?  Most days, I don’t feel like wearing a skirt right now, so I wear pants.  Can not a man do just the opposite?  He certainly can.  The question is not whether it is possible for men to do it.  It is instead a matter of our accepting him for who he is, rather than who we think he should be.

.

Now, I really think I could expand on all of this for a reallyreally long time… really.  But, I’ll continue with those thoughts on a different day.  For now, I’ll end with this: If a skirt or makeup is part of your self-expression, then wear a skirt, do your makeup.  If it’s not, then don’t.  If you have an issue with this, please reconsider, and ask yourself why you have a problem with it – is your reason really worth causing people pain and suffering, or is it simply something you were told, and you rolled with it without too much consideration?  And, finally, fashion people, could we get some variety for men’s clothing, please?  I feel like their self-expression must be totally suppressed with such a simple wardrobe.  I even feel somewhat suppressed on their behalf, and I already get to wear whatever I want.

Yeah… thanks for reading, folks.  Whew!  🙂

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a friendly questionnaire

A friend requested participation in answering the following questions, as a way for us all to get to know one another a bit better.  I enjoyed reading her answers, and enjoyed answering the questions with my own answers.  It’s amazing how a simple set of questions can show so much about a person.  Also, how much alike two people can be, simply based on how they answer a question.

I feel as though I am much closer with this friend now, not just due to our having similar answers to some questions, but because we had so much in common in terms of the style in which we answered various questions.  I really enjoyed this mini friend experiment, and so thought I would share my part of it.

Side note: I was really quite hungry and cold as I answered these questions, so the food ones were definitely swayed by that factor.  ;P

 

1. Are you named after a family member? No

2. When is the last time you cried? Yesterday from the cold; last week from actual crying (I can’t believe it’s been so long!)

3. Do you like your handwriting? Yes, but only because it is characteristic of me and my character, not because it is nice (because it isn’t usually)

4. What is your favorite lunch meat? I don’t actually have favorites, so far as I know, but I enjoy doing a variety of lunch meats together, with some good cheese in between them

5. Do you have kids? No goat babies, and no human ones either

6. Do you use sarcasm? Sometimes, but almost exclusively in happy jokes/contexts

7. Do you still have your tonsils? Yup

8. Would you bungi jump? Absolutely – I plan to do it off a bridge over water one day, but I’ve done it over land already… twice

9. What is your favorite kind of Cereal? Again, no answer… I really loved Cracklin’ Oat Bran, Wheatabix, Honey Nut Cheerios, Chex, Rice Krispies, Frosted Flakes, and Grape-Nuts growing up

10. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Only if necessary (so almost never)

11. Do you think you’re strong? Physically: -ish Mentally: totally

12. What is your favorite ice? The ice at the end of a good drink, when I can slide it into my mouth, and suck for a few seconds before crunching away at it for a while with ease,with the slightest hint of the delicious drink still present

13. What is the first thing you notice about people? Posture and confidence

14. Football or Baseball? Meh – about equal

15. What is the LEAST favorite thing you like about yourself? (Does this mean something that I like, but that is at the bottom of the list of things I like? I’ll answer it that way, I guess…) My knees – I like the way they look versus the other loads of options out there

16. What color pants are you wearing? Wearing fleece-lined black leggings right now – if I were in pants, they would be green, dark mustard, maroon, blue, or black… but they’re all too tight to wear these fleece leggings underneath, and it’s too cold not to wear these right now ;P

17. What are you listening to now? The few people milling about the teachers’ room as they finish test-grading, along with the most random mix of music from my iPod (which I haven’t updated in a couple years so far as the music is concerned)

18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? The new one called something like “Poppy Field”, which would be a melty mixture of that red-yellow-green coloring of the fields

19. Favorite smell? …. essential oils and flowers… and beeswax, and golden milk, and chai… yeah

20. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Mom…?
Oh! Just checked! Avery, via Facebook Messenger (yes, it was on my phone that I spoke to her), to help her with her college essays!

21. Favorite sport to watch? I like watching soccer on TV with my family, because it is a fabulous affair… but it isn’t for the soccer specifically that I like it… I think I prefer playing to watching most sports… or else coaching

22. Hair color? Dirty blonde, naturally so, and in a pattern people regularly try to replicate for others, but never manage to reproduce (score one for Nature! Hehe)

23. Eye color? Beautiful Blue that surprises you

24. Favorite food to eat? Again… haha… I like dipping small crescent rolls into hot chocolate in the mornings; sweet potato or pumpkin pie casseroles (make them myself) in the cool Fall weather; gelato on most any day, especially cold days; fresh homemade pizza; caprese salad; healthy smoothies (is that considered eating, though?); most things Indian, Kitchari especially; ravioli; a rainbow salad

25. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, duh – I watch movies to make life better, not worse ;P Haha

26. Last movie you watched? You’ve Got Mail (?)…

27. What color shirt are you wearing? Black with a blue-white-yellow-dark-red-forest-green-peach-dark-gray-light-gray scarf-like collar – it had to match the leggings!

 

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A ponderous free-write

Awake in a sea of breathless lies – lies about life, and lies about hopes and dreams and loves – , I feel the water pushing in on me, pressing my chest closed, and shoving me down, down, down… into the deep, deepest deep of these dreaded weeds, where those poor, unfortunate souls to eternity have condemned themselves.  I’ll not be a part of it.  I’ll not, though.  So, I feel for some gills, take in the water as would the driest of deserts, and push off this seeming bottom of the existence I know; I am going out to who knows where, to do who knows what, knowing that I can breathe easy now and forever, because I am awake, and so I shall swim, and next I shall have wings.

 

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