Well, hey there!

Tiktoks, writing, and love, what else is there in life?

Emotional roller coaster!

I need to talk about this.
I don’t care if someone pulls me aside and goes, “Heeeeey buddy, I saw that thing, why’d you post that thing?”
Because posting about the thing is my way of pushing through my own insecurity about creating content, and for the longest time I never really cared what anyone thought about my content, it didn’t have any direct affect on my life.
I never thought my words or actions had any actual effect on peoples emotions or thoughts, and now, that I have been at Amazon for nearly two years at this point, have forged bonds and friendships. stealth relationships, and had romantic interests, (And yes god damn it I WILL talk about love, because why the hell wouldn’t I?) as well as created this weird as hell Matrix of random connections all up and down the chain of command at Amazon, from GMs, AMs, to PAs, KBS, PS, WS, and AAs, like, holy fucking shit, it’s been a trippy as hell experience, I’m finding myself at a weird stand still.
The point is this, I’m perfectly aware, I KNOW. Truly, I do KNOW where things stand on every level, and I’m trying to balance everything out in my head before I do anything.
Because I’ve been put through what feels like a 36 round championship title fight, been knocked down with a metaphorical punch to the chest and had a ten count to get the fuck back up.
I read somewhere that happiness and sadness unlock or enhance certain aspects of our psychology, happiness boosts up our creativity and sadness enhances our ability to analyze situations, whatever they may be. In order to get to the root problem of this whole thing, I needed to get to that point where my heart felt like it was dropping into a bucket of ice.
Not through conscious choice, but as a matter of the natural cycle of the seven stages of grief, I’ve been through the worst of it, and I nailed it down to the basic. The failure of not taking action, of overthinking, of seeing a straight line and deciding to let the journey curve and twist and pop up and down.
Though I do have hope that reconciliation can happen, I myself can not take any steps towards it, it’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I do, but I’ve forgotten a very important lesson, that if you chase a squirrel, that little bastards going to dart the hell away each and every time.
However, if you’re patient, and stay very still, and feed the other birds and squirrels at the park, eventually, that squirrels going to want some of that goodness.
By the way, I AM talking about squirrels.
I create stories, songs, lyrics, and Tiktoks, because indirectly, subconsciously, they are messages or adventures for those that want, or need to hear them.
And not being able to be blunt about this is killing me, seriously, I’d much rather be upfront then have to dance around this thing.
I need an apology. I don’t care what channels I have to go through to set up to get one for what went down, but I will get one.
I think that was the straw that broke the camels back for me.
I can forgive a lot, but that? That needs to be rectified, resolved.

Tiktok’o’clock!

That aside, I have reached 7k on Tiktok, so I’m getting close to my goals in terms of numbers, if I hit 10k, I can apply for the creator fund, which means I’ll be able to make some spare change with some of these vids. Which means, I’ll have to find some of the freakier stuff on there to duet or stitch.
I also need to do some more dances, and I’m always down to appear in others Toks, Snaps, Instagram posts, and so on, I’ve never been shy about that kind of thing. I have a few ideas for skits and whatnot, I want to run a few ideas across a few people and see what can be done to make those ideas happen.
Because I’ve got some really cool ideas for a cross platform series!
My largest issue that needs to be worked on is collaboration momentum, the more I do something the easier it is for me to knock it out of the park. It’s just that first initial jump into something that bothers me a little bit.

Music and the Muse!

Music wise, I’ve got three or four ideas for albums that I want to try out, I’ve been doing a ton of crooning tracks for a while, some skit tracks, one or two country tunes, a ton of rap, some tracks with back ground vocals, and some with lyrics to them.
Which I need to get back to doing the ones with lyrics because those are by far the absolute best ones, while the freestyle are OKAY for the most part, I need to find a hook, a way to bring it back in.
I do have a few of those floating around, but for the most part, I’m mostly a story teller, there needs to be a progression in the lyrics, moving forward on a journey.
It’s actually a mental requirement of mine that for a tracks lyrics to really have that OOMPH that I need a muse, which, for a while, I had… have… had… basically, a connection to the lyrics that feels amazing when I get out there to belt it out. thing is, for a while now, that spots seemingly open, as far as I’m aware, since the previous muse wasn’t feeling it anymore.
It’s this connection that allows me to dive deep into my emotional well and brings out the best in what I can do, if I’m inspired, I can just knock it out.
Although, it’s not like anyone can fill out an application for “Morgan’s Muse!” and nail the spot. This has to be a connection that I personally feel, intensely. Specifically, has to be a woman, sorry guys, just the way I’m wired when creating, and there has to be a spark that’s lit when I look into her eyes, like a fireworks display going off in the center of my mind.
Love is the most powerful of emotional connections out there, and if there’s a spark of that, and it hits me deeply, then you’ll know as well, it’s a rare thing, when it hits the CORE of your soul, lights that fire in you, and makes you feel a thing or two about a thing or two because that’s what brings you happiness.
Am I open to repeats? Sure, always happy for that kind of deal, something familiar a return to comfort and warmth, of a souls fire and forging of a reconnection that might’ve been thought lost.
The next album is going to be called “Heart’s Desire” I’ve had the album cover done for quite a while now, but the connection that was behind this has kinda frayed at the edges, but I’m still going to press through with it. I feel uneasy about the album cover, as it involves some old art work I did of a past… current… connection…
That aside, I recently made a track called “She who I’d call queen” from a set of lyrics I wrote, that song is only 1/4 of the lyrics and I’m going to knock out the other three quarters tonight, I might have to redo the original track, since the vocals are a bit on the soft side at the start. But I REALLY don’t want to. I’ll see what I can do about getting an app or two that’ll be able to raise the main vocals a little bit.
I think there’s a bit of magic to how I’ve been able to knock these tracks out, because there is LITERALLY no planning whatsoever, I just grab some coffee, pick a beat I haven’t used before and just go for it. Sometimes it works out, other times I need to do it a few times before I’m satisfied, but people seem to enjoy it.

Sexy Chocolate and the handsome potato!

I get way too excited about things sometimes, like to the point where I get nervous and giddy and everything ends up falling apart, it’s not that I intend for these things to happen, just the way it is, kind of like expecting a surprise birthday party and finding out that well, HOLY CRAP it’s a single person, with a cupcake, and they haven’t yet lit the candle, and they’re just standing there like, WELL, this is indeed a thing!

The point I’m trying to make here is this:
Dear sexy chocolate, come get this handsome potato. OH MY GOD JUST CAME UP WITH THE PERFECT TIKTOK. I need chocolate and a potato.

Author’s Block

Writing wise, I was working on a small side project called Sogno Della Dinastia: Bianco e nero, which translates to “Black and White” I began writing it on Twitter a while back and it somehow fizzled out, it was an interesting concept.
Another series was some romantic thing, IT WAS BALLS OUT AMAZING!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF PURE FICTION, ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL EVENTS OR PERSONS IS… MOSTLY COINCIDENTAL, I’M INSPIRED BY MANY THINGS AT MANY POINTS IN TIME. I TAKE THOSE THINGS AND MAKE AWESOMENESS WITH IT.

Here’s a few snippets:

Even without speaking, She was telling him she wanted him too. She sighed heavily at the start of shift, the weight of the world seeming to press down on her.
He knew something was going on.
She later stopped in front of him many times, hoping he’d take notice.
He did, each time.
He smiled, for he knew she was nervous, that she wanted to tell him how she felt.
It was okay, he felt the same way too.
After all, that’s what true love was, the ability to communicate without actually talking.
It was in the little things they did while around one another.
They were in love, and the whirlpool of their journey was winding them into tighter and tighter circles.
She paused, mimicking an actions he’d seen him do many times over by putting her index finger on her pulse, just behind her jaw.
He noticed everything, his heart pounding. Still he remained composed. He loved her, after all.
When her brown eyes met his green, there was always something magical.
She needed to be sure. She didn’t want to be hurt again, she wanted to trust him with her heart.
Her mind flashed back to the first time they argued, and though she’d deny being afraid it’d happen again, she let that moment inflict a moment of fear.
He understood perfectly, he always had. He knew perfectly well that she needed to be the one to approach him.
For her to initiate the conversation, and let it flow from there. She knew he was talkative, that given half the chance he’d talk her ear off the whole day.
She also knew he followed any rules she put in place.
He sighed heavily, knowing the issues they both faced. Both were nervous, both wanted the same thing, both had problems with starting the conversation.
She’d be hesitant.
He’d talk too soft.
She wanted him close again.
He wanted her close as well.

Today was another day, and though opportunity was striking, it could also mean a shift in direction they were both headed, if everyone else had their say.
With more and more people chiming in, it seemed impossible for them.
Or was it?

He would try again, the universe seemed to be against him, maybe he had everything wrong, the fires of passion he used to have were slowly dying, he needed to remind himself of what drew him to her constantly.
A few people said she was just using him for the way he made her feel, but in a way, if she was happy, he was happy.
If her happiness meant he needed to step up and be her man…
He’d need to change his approach. He was nervous, terrified, unsure of the possible change.
He liked how he was, but she needed something more from him, she needed to see his flirty, romantic, seductive side he’d sometimes show without knowing it.
She liked that side.
But, how to bring it out again?

It was the next day, she was staffed in the same place as before.
She was excited.
Anxious.
She was sure how the day would unfold, but she was sure that no matter what, he would be hers as she once knew him.
She loved him. She wanted him.
He wasn’t like any of the other men.
He was kind, caring, had actually taken the time to get to know her instead of casually flirting and disappearing when she turned him down.
He’d gotten to know her friend, and was always curious about her life.
She was hesitant at first, offering sometimes blunt responses.

Then he’d done something no other man had done before, he started sharing his work with her.
Giving her small handmade gifts, little things that he’d cobbled together out of other things. Hair ties, bracelets, little golden rings studded with diamonds.
He told her she was his muse, that he had feelings for her, but he didn’t want to rush the friendship.
He’d been so patient with her, and let her know when she’d hit his limit.
He was understanding and forgiving beyond what any other person would be.
He had his faults, everyone did, but he more than made up for them in other ways.
She had to hold tight to him when he thought he had done something wrong and tried to pull away, she reigned him back in, and in doing so, sealed for herself, a place in his heart and mind.
They had been through so much, and yet so little at the same time. She tested him, time and again, with little things in little ways.
Both direct and indirect.
He recounted little details about her, rarely mentioned moments that had passed, small conversations and more.
He paid more attention to her then she realized, and without realizing it, began to let her guard down around him, letting him know more and more about herself that she’d have otherwise kept secret.
She dropped little hints here and there, small, sometimes obvious, moments.
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
She was tired of small moves, tired of him beating around the bush, she wanted him upfront and to the point.
He was staffed in the same place again, but something was different.
He’d been working two different areas at the same time over the past couple of days.
When one area wasn’t busy, he’d work the other, and vice versa. She looked at him, casually going about his day, he looked at her as well, they each knew somehow.
Everyone around them was putting pressure on him to move on, to forget about her, and for a while, it seemed as though he was about to.
She knew he was persistent, but he had his moral compass. She liked that, it was something else about him that was different.
He was genuine.
He’d spend a majority of the shift in her area, keeping her company since there was no one else, small conversations here and there. Nothing major, just small things to pass the time.
When the conversation had run dry, he’d play a few games with her, normally, she’d refuse.
Not today. They played four games before it was obvious they’d be locked in ties each time. She wanted him to move closer, to stop dancing around what he was after.
What she was after, he’d been resistant, but for the right reasons.
Her friends had done their parts.
For a while, he’d forgotten the one thing that drew her towards him, to be genuinely himself. The new clothes helped some, but she wanted him. Almost craved him, her heart beat loudly in her chest, and somehow, he could always tell.
He disappeared for a while, she thought he’d left again. A while later, he came back, a spring in his step that she hadn’t seen in a long time.
For the first time in a while, they had a deep conversation. He then presented her with another gift, one she thought she’d never get.
He obliged with no hesitation, putting the small object in his back pocket.
She walked down the line just a little, and reassured herself that this was going to happen, she just needed to drop slight hints again.

He’d left for break, one of her friends waiting for him at the spot he’d usually be at.
He was too smart, so he approached and went straight to the point.
They talked at length about his attraction towards her, and the situation, as well as, an ever slight hint he caught.
He was enamored by her, he explained, she charged his creative battery like no other woman in there could.
The friend listened carefully, he was playing a cautionary part.
He knew he’d be able to piece everything together.
Later, when she and the friend were talking, he let it slip, just loud enough for him to hear, and he instantly heard it, processed it, and was comforted by the fact that he had been right all along.
He just needed to stay on the right path, follow the advice given.
After shift, he gave her the gift, and during the time they had before they left, she looked at him repeatedly, long eye contact, she was nervous, but then again, so was he, but he was there, calm, collected, confident. They talked for a little while, before they parted ways.
At least, he thought she left, but was pleasantly surprised when she hung back a little to see if he was following her, when he saw, he caught up rather quickly, he knew she had hung back just for him.
Still, he’d stopped at the stairs while they continued on.
She looked back a second time, and it was that second time, telling him he knew for a fact she wanted him.
Tonight she told herself, was a very good night.

She was in tears, for so long he had been the kind gentle soul she had known and loved secretly, but lately he had been cold, distant, sometimes brash without meaning to, she disliked him for those things.
At the same time, he had never lied to her, he’d been direct.
Over the passed week, something changed within him, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was almost as if something that was there, wasn’t anymore. As if he had left his anger, resentment, and inner demons behind.
There were small moments, where the two had shared mysteries or small moments.
Private thoughts, or past memories.
He’d always try to carry the conversation, fail, but sometimes on the rare occasions, it would be all day.
He liked talking of the deeper things, the romanticizing of the soul.
She loved his willingness to goof around.
The higher ups found it charming, he was one of their favorites. He didn’t understand why, he’d always tell them she helped out immensely.
Tonight however, felt different.
Tonight he’d notice her do something he’d never seen.
She had slipped away, just for a few minutes.

He looked at her, forever entranced at this secret side of her, and for a few minutes, he acted as her guard, keeping an eye out for those that might disturb those few precious moments.
He kept an eye out for work, and worried that there were eyes on her at all times.
she returned shortly, and excused herself. for the first time in a long time, they held meaningful eye contact. and in that instance, the connection reignited, not as intense, but it was there.
For everything everyone was telling him, he stood fast, present, the warmth, returned.

Memories of innocence

Ever since then I’ve wanted to experience that feeling all over again, that feeling of being complete. I thought I had it with Ashley, and for a while, I did. Then, for the longest time now, I haven’t.

Okay, this is going to be something.
Actually, no, let’s just jump right the fuck in, no dancing around the topic, no farting around, we’re doing this shit and DAMNED BE THE CONSEQUENCES!
We’re talking love, romance, flirting, and all things I find to be either incredibly easy, or just down right hard depending on how long I hesitate before actually speaking and that just causes a cascade effect where the thoughts just fucking flip out on me like,
“Hey, you’re actually kind of-“
“LOOK AT THE PENGUIN!”
At that level.
I’m not sure th reason for the hesitancy, I know for certain that it feels like the words are there, but my mouth won’t form the words.
Or maybe it’s something simpler:
Fear of rejection.
If rejected twice already, then the probability of being rejected a third time is pretty high, or maybe on a subconscious level I’m reading the social cues being put out.
Or maybe it’s the cues I think are happening but in reality it’s not.
All I can know for sure is that it’s really hard guessing intention just based on eyes, and eyebrows alone.
Which SUUUUUUCKS.
But, at the same time, affords some practice in noticing the details.
Kind of.
black women are absolutely stunning to me for some reason, maybe it’s just that I’m looking for a change of pace, or maybe dating someone outside my skin tone of splotchy peach mixed with sunburnt tomato has been appealing to me for the longest time?
I dunno why it is.

I guess my earliest exposure to the idea of dating a black gal (This is normal thinking for me on the regular. Sometimes you just have to let it out.) was back in middle school, back in San Jose, not middle school, High School?
Yeah, high School.

Okay, so there was this bomb ass BBQ place just smack dab between my house and Oak Grove high School, no… wait, Davis Minor Intermediate School… Was it OGHS? Hard to recall specific details.
Anyways, this place was AMAZING, it was Black owned (do I capitalize Black? Do I not? well, no squiggly red line, so I guess so.) run by this elderly dude… What was his name!?
Gus? Stanley? Pete? Paul? Robert? Dan? David? It was probably Gus… We’re going with Gus.
So, Gus was similar height to Nigel, but the dude was fucking stacked, try to imagine four body builders sharing one of those full one body suits at the same time, and you’ve got Gus.
Anyways, Gus made THE BEST FUCKING RIBS imaginable.
He also had a daughter, named Bridgette, I was… what, 5’9 in middle school? So she was a few inches shorter then me.
But, my bois, my awesome lads?
She was gorgeous, I imagine she still is to this day. Wish I had kept up with her.
Anyways, she had this wild hair that wouldn’t stay combed down, so she just let it do its own thing, and it was a unique experience to watch what it decided to do from the day to day.
Coil factor on a scale of one to ten?
Between a 3 to 4. There was a bit of a twist to it, but for the most part, it looked like it was always going after a few birds.
Skin tone? Best way to describe it… Her tone was as if a glass of chocolate milk were made with a mix ratio of 40% chocolate syrup, with a dash of caramel.
Her eyes a really deep brown, almost black. Her irises had a ring of grey right around the pupil, which I was always curious about, never got around to asking.
Her build was average, nothing too fancy.
She was kind of dorky, which I had a thing for back then, so it fit pretty well.

Anyways, almost everyday, after school I’d walk her back to the store (I think it was high school… Not sure of the year, BUT I do remember that it was during the either Fall or Spring.) and we’d just talk about random things, I had no clue about flirting back then, I was just friends with someone.

So, whenever dances came around, I’d always go by myself since I could never really get up the courage to ask someone to go with me, so it was just a common thing for me to go to the school dances by myself and just do my own thing.
It became something of offline meme.
This one dance those, winter formal, I did the same thing, and Bridgette was at the dance as well.
It was during one of the slower dances that a group of her friends asked me to dance with her, and I said sure, why not?
She was wearing a pink dress, not too puffy shoulders, her hair was still wild, but she had it in a pony tail which worked in her favor.
Can’t remember the perfume, but I remember the scent perfectly, it was sweet, sugary, tropical, with a hint of Lilac and rose. It was amazing!
So, I ended up dancing with her the rest of the night, it was almost like I felt this pull towards her.
During…. what was the song playing at the time!? DAMN IT.
Boyz to Men, I can never remember the song…there was this one line, “I’ll be there for you”
But she pulled me in close, and rested her head on my shoulder and I remember feeling her heartbeat against my chest.
I didn’t think about it for the longest time, but looking back, knowing what I know now, I must have made her night. Even when the music stopped, we just kept on dancing, every once in a while she’d look into my eyes, just simply smiling, she had a gorgeous smile, it completely lit up the room.
Her eyes were bright, scary bright, as if they weren’t even real, but I felt her warmth, there was mass, weight, presence!
She must’ve been the happiest girl at the dance, because she didn’t let go of me for a full three seconds after I had of her to get to the bathroom, kind of funny.

Ever since then I’ve wanted to experience that feeling all over again, that feeling of being complete. I thought I had it with Ashley, and for a while, I did. Then, for the longest time now, I haven’t.

It’s not something common, like I look into a gals eyes and just instantly fall for them, there has to be a real connection in order for me to get worked up about a gal. A visceral and thorough understanding and almost magnetic pull towards her that subconsciously drives me towards her, as if the warmth of a campfire were just underneath my heart whenever she’s around!
There has to be a look in her eyes, that one look. Not something that screams “Fuck me”, but it’s the subtelest of tells, something that I can only pick up on if she’s close enough to where I can see the iris pattern.
A look in her eyes that silently asks, “If we could be together, would you want to?”
That “If” part. The almighty heartbreaking hypothetical question.
It’s her way of letting me know that “yeah, there’s interest, but you’ve got to meet me halfway. you’ve got to let me know what’s going on at your end, what are you looking for? Will you let me know? I might not be available now, but I will be eventually, so please remember this moment.”
That’s the look that snags my attention, that’s the look that strikes a chord on the strings of my heart.
For that woman, I’d gladly face a thousand armies, I’d conquer any obstacle I could to make her happy.

If there’s one thing I’ll never regret, it’s dancing with Bridgette and seeing those beautiful brown eyes with the ring of grey, how they shown so bright, even in the darkness of that gym and the occasional flash of the DJ’s lighting rig.
That look is universal.
So, single women, if you catch me looking into your eyes, just know I’m reading your irises, trying to find that one specific look, the slight growth in your pupil, the way the light dances off the lens, the flare of silver on the outer edges.
Love is love, regardless of the situations we find ourselves, and though societal norms may prevent us from acting upon the natural subconscious impulses we’ve learned to tame, just know it’s alright, whatever situation you’re in, everything will work itself out eventually.

Getting my attention is easy, keeping it is easy, but firing up the kiln of my creativity? That’s extremely hard, and keeping those fires lit, even if indirectly? Damn near impossible.
After all, all you have to do is reach out, and I’ll be there.

Those eyes, how they do hypnotize.

Looking into them, see how they spark
Like getting lost in a hurricane of feeling
Love, loss, joy, confusion, happiness, apathy, lust
Overbounding with love like instant sparks
A flare of joy rocketing into the sky

Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve written a proper blog…

Although, what the hell is a proper blog post? Is it a collection of like minded thoughts?
Because, you know, if that’s the case, than I am properly fucked. I don’t think I’ve ever had a series of like minded thoughts, just a bunch of confused bullshit that people are like, “HA! Shweet.”
And you know what? I’m fine with that. I’m fine with being in a world in which my channel flippy brain gets confuzzled halfway through a thought and decides that buttercream screaming butterflies are the perfect valentines day gift, for the person you REALLY fucking hate.
And, you know, I’m not blind to my underuse of exclamation points, really!

Today I want to talk about love. And Workplaces.
And amazon.
And the holy shit storm of why either their a good thing or a bad thing, or maybe I’ll just continually switch topics, because I’m a rebellious bastard and you love me for that.
“Today, we’re talking puppies and the monster trucks who love them. Way too much.”
Yeah, so strap in for some enlightened as fuck shit, because this god damned thing is filled to the brim with swearing and clown beastiality referees. I meant to write that.

Yesterday, we got put in 5S, and me being me, I began to draw, something I do to pass the time. One of my friends then asked me a bunch of questions, some personal, others not, most I can’t remember, but she was cool.
Then my other friend, Karen, Who I think might have a crush on me? I don’t like to assume anything anymore, I just leave it up to the winds of chance and whatever seems to be going on that day to figure shit out, also talked to me about my drawing, and we got to talking for a while, and it was a pretty good conversation, filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and you fucking hate the fact I’m not giving you the deets!
Well, I can’t remember the deets, so we’re pretty much in the same boat here.

Anyways, i leave to go to the bathroom, come back, and I get snagged into Water Spidering, which is indirect work, but still critical, for Prep… And for about 40% I would say, I knocked things out of the park, I kept tote lines going, swept, moved pallets and cages, just in general, was an amazing beast of burden. Or unburdening, that’s like an Anti-Donkeh, right?

There was this one woman, really tiny, like, ridiculously small, looks almost like a kid, but she isn’t. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s got an amazing smile, which, hey, bonus points for getting her to smile! Anyways, she’s a sweet person, much luck to her in whatever she chooses to do in life.

Meanwhile, i’m apartment hunting, I’ve got my eyes set on a place or two, as well as the bedding needed to make sure I conserve as much space as possible, and was kind of blown away by the fact there’s a triple bunk bed, like, holy shit people! A triple bunk bed! that’s like witnessing a majestic Unicorn horn fuck a leperchaun right through the face, while the little fuckers barfing gold bars! I mean, yeah, it’s a bunk bed, but a fucking triple!?

Jesus fucking christ.

Oh, I also made my first communion.
Every once in a while I’ll still upload a video or two, but I haven’t been as interested in it. Growing my channel has become annoying as fuck, and I just decided, fuck it, not going to bother. I are there people who’ll enjoy my stuff? Maybe, I’ll never know.. I get just a bit depressed thinking about it, too many trolls, or algorithms or whatever, or maybe I just upload bad content, fuck if I know or care anymore. While there are peeps out there, my hearts just not in it anymore. That’s the long and short of it now a days. My hearts not in making vids anymore, and it’s not making me any money, so why should I bother?

Yeah, there was for the enjoyment of it, but constant criticism about the whole thing has whittled away at my enthusiasm for it, and until I get my own place, I don’t think I’ll be able to really get back into it. Things change over time, needs change,

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