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you realize in moments like this that it is a work (or works unaccomplished) that what keeps you dormant and numb in your corner, not the weather. blaming things happening on external, how typical of you. turbulence upon turbulence, will you not learn the cause of your grief. now that you have shifted the avenue of your worry from your own mother (who is now more busy than the past year) to him (who is also busy thus ineffectual), you must turn to something of more permanence and not prone to influx. but what what what? who who who?