Choosing Yourself Even When You Feel Unworthy

Choosing Yourself Even When You Feel Unworthy
©2025 BTMT-TJ

I have always struggled with making mistakes. When I slip up, even in small ways, I tend to fall into long cycles of guilt. I replay the moment endlessly, wondering why I reacted the way I did, feeling disappointed in myself for not handling it better.

Eventually the guilt settles and I find my way back to self-love. I remind myself that I am human, that imperfection is part of the deal. Yet it has never felt natural to love myself in the middle of emotional discomfort. It feels much easier to aim for flawless behavior than to sit with the truth of who I am.

Being real still scares me sometimes. It requires the willingness to feel messy emotions. It requires space for anger, sadness, embarrassment, or fear. For a long time, I treated all those experiences as things I needed to clean up before I deserved compassion.

I thought I needed to “fix” myself before I could love myself.

I was wrong.

When the storm passes and the emotions soften, loving myself feels simple again. Happiness makes self-love easy. Gratitude makes self-love easy. Calm makes self-love easy.

The challenge lies in loving ourselves when we feel ashamed, guilty, or overwhelmed. That is where the real work begins.

The truth is that self-love is not a reward we earn for being perfect. It is not a prize we unlock when we are finally strong, centered, or spiritually polished. Self-love is a practice. It is steady. It is ongoing. It is something we come back to again and again, especially in moments when we believe we do not deserve it.

Self-love is progress, not perfection.

It continues every second, every minute, every day. It does not take a break simply because we are disappointed in ourselves. It does not disappear until we get it together. It remains available, even when we do not know how to receive it.

When I make mistakes, my thoughts often spiral. I look for quick fixes. I try to outrun the discomfort. Yet what would happen if I stopped for one moment and let myself feel everything as it is?

The heart stays open when we allow ourselves to be human. The heart becomes stronger when it loves through self-doubt instead of waiting for self-confidence to return. That is the power of real self-love. It holds us while we are hurting. It welcomes the parts of us that feel unworthy. It gives us room to grow without demanding perfection.

Growth happens when we fall and rise again. It happens when we understand that we will fall again someday, yet still choose to rise.

That is self-love. That is how we honor our worth, even when it feels fragile.

So the next time you make a mistake, ask yourself: What story will I tell about this moment? Will I reach for shame, or will I reach for growth?

Choosing growth means choosing self-love.

Choosing self-love means choosing yourself — fully, freely, and without conditions.

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If You Have To Guess, You Already Know

If You Have To Guess, You Already Know
©2025 BTMT-TJ

Let us get honest for a moment. If you have ever stared at your phone waiting for clarity, hoping their next message will explain everything, you already know something is off. You would not need a decoding system if the connection were real.

Here is the radical truth: when someone likes you, you do not have to translate their behavior. Attraction has volume. Interest has momentum. People who want you in their life do not hide it. They reach out. They show up. They create space. They follow through.

Human beings are terrible at hiding enthusiasm. We reveal ourselves constantly.

So when you feel confused, it is not because you missed a clue. It is because the signal is not strong.

The confusion itself is communication.

We treat ambiguity like a mystery we must solve. We think, “Maybe they are shy. Maybe they are overwhelmed. Maybe the timing is complicated.” Those may be true, but none of them change the outcome.

If someone’s presence leaves you uncertain, that uncertainty is data.

Your body knows long before your mind allows the truth in. Overthinking is not a sign you are dramatic. It is a sign your nervous system is responding to instability. When a connection is mutual, your mind quiets down. You stop waiting for the next message to soothe your doubt. You stop performing emotional CPR on a relationship that is barely breathing.

Let me state this plainly: mixed signals are not real. There are only two signals—interest and not enough interest.

Everything else is a story we create because the truth is uncomfortable.

When someone comes close, pulls away, then returns when they are bored or lonely, that is not passion. It is inconsistency. It is convenience. It is emotional drive-by behavior. Someone who wants you does not risk losing you through silence.

Your clarity will never require a chase.

When you spend your energy trying to interpret someone, you are not trying to understand them. You are trying to justify staying. You silence your needs in the name of hope. You shrink in the name of potential.

Here is the truth that changes everything: the right person removes doubt. They do not create it.

The right connection energizes you, it does not drain you. It steadies you, it does not spin you out. It brings you forward, it does not leave you waiting in emotional limbo.

Compatibility is not about intensity. It is about alignment. Two people can care for one another and still want different things. That is not rejection. It is reality.

Your job is not to convince someone to choose you. Your job is to choose yourself first.

Walk away from anything that feels uncertain. Walk toward what feels consistent. Walk toward what feels safe. Walk toward what feels like clarity, not chaos.

If you cannot tell whether they like you, you already know.

This is your moment to choose the one person who never disappears on you.

Yourself.

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If You Have To Guess, You Already Know

 

If You Have To Guess, You Already Know

©2025 BTMT-TJ
Let us get honest for a moment. If you have ever stared at your phone waiting for clarity, hoping their next message will explain everything, you already know something is off. You would not need a decoding system if the connection were real.

Here is the radical truth: when someone likes you, you do not have to translate their behavior. Attraction has volume. Interest has momentum. People who want you in their life do not hide it. They reach out. They show up. They create space. They follow through.

Human beings are terrible at hiding enthusiasm. We reveal ourselves constantly.

So when you feel confused, it is not because you missed a clue. It is because the signal is not strong.

The confusion itself is communication.

We treat ambiguity like a mystery we must solve. We think, “Maybe they are shy. Maybe they are overwhelmed. Maybe the timing is complicated.” Those may be true, but none of them change the outcome.

If someone’s presence leaves you uncertain, that uncertainty is data.

Your body knows long before your mind allows the truth in. Overthinking is not a sign you are dramatic. It is a sign your nervous system is responding to instability. When a connection is mutual, your mind quiets down. You stop waiting for the next message to soothe your doubt. You stop performing emotional CPR on a relationship that is barely breathing.

Let me state this plainly: mixed signals are not real. There are only two signals—interest and not enough interest.

Everything else is a story we create because the truth is uncomfortable.

When someone comes close, pulls away, then returns when they are bored or lonely, that is not passion. It is inconsistency. It is convenience. It is emotional drive-by behavior. Someone who wants you does not risk losing you through silence.

Your clarity will never require a chase.

When you spend your energy trying to interpret someone, you are not trying to understand them. You are trying to justify staying. You silence your needs in the name of hope. You shrink in the name of potential.

Here is the truth that changes everything: the right person removes doubt. They do not create it.

The right connection energizes you, it does not drain you. It steadies you, it does not spin you out. It brings you forward, it does not leave you waiting in emotional limbo.

Compatibility is not about intensity. It is about alignment. Two people can care for one another and still want different things. That is not rejection. It is reality.

Your job is not to convince someone to choose you. Your job is to choose yourself first.

Walk away from anything that feels uncertain. Walk toward what feels consistent. Walk toward what feels safe. Walk toward what feels like clarity, not chaos.

If you cannot tell whether they like you, you already know.

This is your moment to choose the one person who never disappears on you.

Yourself.

 

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Life-Lessons

Life-Lessons 

©2025 BTMT TARA-J

 

 Looking back over the last four years, everything has changed. The house is quiet now. The children have grown and gone their own way. The relationship has ended. Most of the family has drifted apart. What remains is silence—something I once craved, something I now meet with both gratitude and hesitation.

I remember those busy mornings when all I wanted was to stay in bed past sunrise without anyone needing anything from me. I wished for a day where I could simply rest in peace and quiet. Then one morning, that wish came true—and it felt nothing like I imagined. The stillness carried a weight I was not prepared for.

This morning, I woke up to the soft confusion of daylight saving time and the quiet hum of my own thoughts. The emptiness was there, yes, but so was a strange kind of peace. It is everything I wished for, and still, it asks something new of me.

There is freedom now. I do not have to share my pizza or fold anyone else’s laundry. I can fill my time however I choose. It feels indulgent at times, almost selfish, yet I know it is neither. This solitude is not punishment—it is restoration. It is space to rediscover who I am without the titles, tasks, or expectations that once defined me.

Transitioning from a life of constant responsibility—parent, partner, provider—to one of stillness has been transformative. It is disorienting at times, yet profoundly clarifying.
So this morning, I let myself be still. I looked around the room that holds the sun, the entire bed, and the pieces of my story framed on the walls. I allowed gratitude to rise quietly within me.

This life, this silence, this season—it is not empty. It is full of possibilities. I will keep breathing it in. Gently. Alone. With wonder for what comes next.

 

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When Your Body Is Asking You to Listen

When Your Body Is Asking You to Listen
©2025 BTMT - TJackson

This is for those who wake up already tired. For the ones who carry a quiet hum of anxiety through the day, who feel the weight of life pressing down even when nothing specific has gone wrong. For those whose shoulders never seem to unclench, whose thoughts never fully rest, whose bodies keep asking for a pause that never seems to come.

If you lie awake at night wondering why everything feels so heavy, you are not weak. If you have ever asked yourself, Why can’t I handle this better? you are not broken. You are human.

I know this feeling. The tension in your chest. The constant restlessness. The uneasy belief that something inside you must be wrong. I spent years trying to fix myself—pushing harder, numbing deeper, managing symptoms that refused to disappear. What I wish someone had told me back then is that sometimes, the thing that feels broken is actually your body’s way of telling the truth.

We are so quick to turn discomfort into self-blame. When anxiety shows up, we label it weakness. When fatigue lingers, we call it laziness. When focus slips, we assume it means failure. Yet what if these signals are not signs of dysfunction, but evidence of intelligence?

Your body is not your enemy. It is your messenger. It reacts to the conditions around it with precision and honesty. If you walk into a smoke-filled room, your lungs tighten and your eyes water. No one would call that fragility—it is your body protecting you, urging you toward safety. The same is true for emotional environments.

If your job constantly demands more than you can give, exhaustion is not a flaw; it is feedback. If you are in a relationship that keeps you walking on eggshells, your anxiety is not overreaction; it is awareness. If you have spent years trying to earn love that should have been freely given, the ache you feel is not failure; it is your body reminding you that conditional acceptance is not the same as belonging.

Your nervous system is not malfunctioning. It is responding exactly as it should when life feels unpredictable or unsafe. The problem is not that your body reacts—the problem is that you have been taught to ignore it.

We live in a culture that glorifies endurance and dismisses exhaustion. We silence the signals that tell us to rest, then praise ourselves for pushing through. We mistake numbness for strength. We try to regulate a body that is only reacting to dysregulation all around it.

For years, I believed that if I just tried harder—if I perfected my routines, meditated longer, or found the right supplement—I could finally silence the storm inside me. Those practices helped, but only once I understood their real purpose. Breathing, journaling, meditation—these are tools for tuning in, not tuning out. They help us listen, not escape.

Real healing began for me when I stopped treating my body as a problem to solve and started honoring it as a guide. I realized my anxiety was not random; it was rooted in an environment that was draining my energy and eroding my peace. My body was not betraying me—it was fighting for me. It was trying to get my attention.

Change did not happen overnight. I could not walk away from every difficult circumstance at once. Some seasons required patience, others demanded courage. Yet the moment I accepted that my feelings had purpose, everything shifted. I was no longer trying to fix myself. I was learning to listen to myself.

Healing is not always about doing more. Sometimes it begins with stillness—with the simple decision to believe that your body is not against you. It wants balance, peace, and safety. It wants you to stop surviving and start living.

So if you wake up already tired, if you carry tension you cannot name, if your soul feels heavy without reason, please hear this: you are not weak. You are responding. You are sensing. You are doing your best in a world that often asks for more than you can give.

Your body is not the obstacle—it is the compass. When you start listening to what it is trying to tell you, you begin to find your way home.

The goal is not to silence your body’s voice. The goal is to understand its language. That is where healing begins.

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Breaking the Cycle of Overthinking

 Breaking the Cycle of Overthinking
©2025 BTMT -TJackson

If you are someone who dwells on everything, you know how exhausting it can be. The same thoughts circle your mind, looping endlessly until they begin to feel familiar, almost comforting. It sounds strange to say that intrusive thoughts can bring relief, yet sometimes they do. They create the illusion of control, a fragile sense of safety when the world feels uncertain.

The irony is that the very thoughts that seem to protect us are often the ones that cause our greatest distress. We know this. We know overthinking rarely leads to clarity. Still, we cling to it as if the next round of mental analysis might finally produce the answer we are searching for.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Because the mind craves certainty. It wants resolution. It wants to know that everything will turn out right, and it wants to know it now. Overthinking becomes an attempt to find an escape hatch from confusion, a way to outsmart disappointment before it arrives.

Is it helpful? Not usually. Do we know it is unhelpful? Of course. Do we do it anyway? Absolutely.

If you identify with this, you already understand that overthinking is not a flaw of intelligence—it is a symptom of fear. It is the mind’s way of trying to create safety in a world that feels unpredictable. Yet what begins as protection becomes a trap. Instead of moving closer to understanding, we become tangled in worry, spinning stories that only deepen our anxiety.

The turning point comes when we stop asking “Why do I think this?” and start asking “What can I do about this?” That simple shift pulls us out of the maze and back into the present moment.

I remember the first time I tried this. My thoughts were spiraling, chasing answers that did not exist. Then I asked myself, Is there something I can actually do about this right now? For a brief moment, my mind went quiet. I felt awareness instead of panic. I realized that not every thought required a response, and not every worry deserved my attention. I had found the beginning of peace.

Our need for immediate answers often leads us to react rather than respond. Fear and urgency cloud our decisions, pushing us to fix what might not even be broken. To break that cycle, we must learn to return to the present. That is where our power lives.

Mindfulness is the tool that helps us do this. It teaches us to pause before reacting, to notice when we are caught in repetition, and to breathe before we spiral. It invites us to ask three questions: What can I control? What can I do? Can I do it now?

These questions sound simple, yet they hold profound power. They redirect the mind from chaos to clarity, from overthinking to grounded awareness. Even when the problem itself remains, your relationship to it changes. The noise quiets. The tension eases. The mind finds rest, not because everything is solved, but because you have returned to yourself.

Overthinking loses its grip the moment you stop trying to predict the future and start engaging with the present. You do not have to silence your thoughts—you only need to guide them. The goal is not perfect calm, but conscious awareness. Once you realize that your thoughts are not commands but choices, you regain the freedom to think differently.

Peace is not the absence of thought. It is the ability to notice your thoughts without becoming them.

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The Power of Social Intelligence

 

11-03-2025
The Power of Social Intelligence
©2025 BTMT - TJ

How to Lead with Awareness, Connection, and Grace

Are you socially intelligent?

Do you have the ability to read the room, connect with others, and move through social situations with ease and authenticity?

True social intelligence is not about popularity. Trying to be liked by everyone drains your energy and blurs your identity. It turns authenticity into performance. Chasing approval often means surrendering your voice just to belong, even to those who have not earned that privilege.

You will never be everyone’s favorite. Some people will misunderstand you. Others will dislike you for reasons that have nothing to do with who you are. The only control you have is how you respond — with self-respect, composure, and grace. That is the heart of social intelligence.

What It Means to Be Socially Intelligent

Social intelligence, often called SQ, is the ability to understand and navigate the emotions, motives, and behaviors of others while staying grounded in your own values. People with high SQ communicate clearly, assertively, and with empathy. They make those around them feel seen, respected, and understood.

Socially intelligent people do not perform; they connect. They do not dominate; they elevate. Their presence makes others feel safe enough to be real.

Here is what sets them apart:

They know how to communicate without creating conflict. They understand the difference between honest expression and provocation. Their words draw others out rather than shutting them down. They offer opinions with balance, never with arrogance. If they sense tension, they give others space to regain footing and dignity.

They can read the energy in a room. Whether they are speaking to a crowd, joining a meeting, or sitting with a friend, they sense when to speak, when to listen, and when silence carries more weight than words. They value good manners not because they are performative, but because they signal respect.

They exercise restraint. Socially intelligent people control their words, emotions, and reactions. They know that not every feeling requires an audience, and not every thought deserves airtime. They pause before they post, reply, or lash out. Their self-control protects their integrity and spares them regret.

They do not chase popularity. Ironically, this is what makes them magnetic. Authentic confidence draws people in naturally — no effort, no performance.

They listen deeply. When they ask how someone is doing, they actually want to know. They stay curious, ask follow-up questions, and give others room to share. Conversation with them feels like being seen, not screened.

They share of themselves with intention. They reveal just enough of their story to create trust and relatability. They understand that vulnerability builds bridges, but they also know when to stop talking and make space for others.

They are never mean. In a world overflowing with outrage and division, they choose kindness. They understand that emotions like fear and anger are valid, yet they do not use them as excuses to harm or humiliate.

They notice those on the margins. Even when they hold the spotlight, they make room for others. They include the quiet person in the corner, the one overlooked or left out, because connection is not complete until everyone feels invited in.

They bring out the best in others. Their influence inspires growth, confidence, and self-belief. That is why socially intelligent people often become the leaders others choose to follow.

Most of all, they leave people better than they found them. Whether delivering praise or constructive truth, they do it with empathy. They understand how their words land, and they take responsibility for that impact. People walk away from them feeling valued, not depleted — seen, not invisible.

The Takeaway

Social intelligence is not about being charming or strategic. It is about being aware. It is knowing yourself well enough to manage your emotions and knowing others well enough to meet them with empathy.

Every interaction becomes an opportunity to build understanding instead of walls, to offer kindness instead of criticism, and to create connection instead of competition.

When you move through the world with that kind of presence, people remember how you made them feel. That is the quiet power of social intelligence — influence through empathy, strength through composure, leadership through grace.

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Cage or Arena

 Cage or Arena

©2025 ☯️TBP-BTMT

Life can be harsh, unpredictable, and at times, deeply unforgiving. It is natural to want to retreat from experiences that stir discomfort or expose our vulnerabilities. Fear whispers that safety lies in staying small, in keeping life predictable, in choosing certainty over risk.

Avoidance can feel like protection, especially when the world feels too heavy or uncertain. Yet every time you postpone what matters, every time you turn away from a challenge or silence your own potential, you build invisible walls around yourself. The bars may be polished with routine, stability, or even success, yet a cage is still a cage.

At some point, you are faced with a choice: remain behind the safety of those golden bars, or step into the arena where real growth happens. The arena is not comfortable. It asks for courage, resilience, and the willingness to be seen in your imperfection. It does not guarantee victory, yet it promises aliveness.

As researcher Brené Brown reminds us, “Vulnerability is not weakness; it is our greatest measure of courage.” True strength is not the absence of fear, but the decision to show up despite it.

Avoidance may protect you in the short term, yet it will never move your life forward. It keeps you intact, but not fulfilled. It keeps you safe, but not free.

The arena, on the other hand, transforms you. Each time you face what frightens you, each time you choose honesty over avoidance or presence over perfection, you expand. You learn that courage is built through experience, not comfort. You discover that authenticity, even when messy, is far more powerful than control.

Growth begins the moment you stop choosing the cage.

So ask yourself, with honesty and compassion: do you want to live protected, or do you want to live awake? The arena will test you, yet it will also reveal your strength, your truth, and your capacity to become fully human.

Step forward. Show up. The world does not need your perfection — it needs your presence.

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Are You Living in “When” Mode?

 

10/16/2025

Are You Living in “When” Mode?

There is a subtle kind of waiting that can quietly take over your life. It begins with small thoughts: When I have more time. When work slows down. When I feel more confident. When the timing is right. Before long, you realize that your life has become a series of conditions—tiny gates that keep your happiness and purpose locked behind the word when.

There are many reasons we fall into this trap. Life is demanding. The world moves fast. We are tired, anxious, stretched thin. Fear plays its part too—fear of failure, fear of success, fear of being seen trying. Waiting feels safer than risking disappointment. It gives the illusion of control, when in truth, it only delays our growth.

You tell yourself that things will change when you finally have clarity, when you are more certain, when everything falls neatly into place. Yet deep down, you already know that the perfect moment rarely arrives. It is not the lack of opportunity holding you back; it is the habit of postponement.

Waiting can begin as self-protection but quietly become self-sabotage. You start to notice the signs. The days blend together in quiet repetition. The spark that once fueled your dreams grows dim. You sense that you want more from life but cannot quite name what that “more” is. You tell yourself that the next chapter will be easier, brighter, simpler—but the next chapter never begins until you turn the page.

There is another way to live. It is what Henry David Thoreau called “living deliberately”—a practice of taking ownership of your choices, your direction, and your future. He once wrote, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately… and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

Living deliberately does not mean escaping to the wilderness or abandoning your responsibilities. It means refusing to be carried passively by the current of obligation. It means choosing, rather than waiting to be chosen. It means shaping your life instead of letting it shape you.

You do not need to overhaul your world overnight to begin. Start by noticing the small spaces where you can make conscious choices. Ask yourself what you did yesterday that nourished you—not because it was required, but because it felt right. If the answer is nothing, then today is the day to begin. Do one thing—no matter how small—that is yours alone. Make it intentional. Make it meaningful.

With each deliberate choice, something shifts. You begin to feel a quiet sense of authority over your own life. You stop waiting for permission. You stop needing the “right” conditions to start. You realize that progress is not something you wait for—it is something you create, one conscious moment at a time.

So the real question is not when will you start. It is will you?

Are you standing at the bus stop, watching others board while telling yourself your bus will come “when the time is right”? Or are you ready to step forward, ticket in hand, and claim your seat on the life that is already moving?

Because life is not waiting for you to decide. She is already in motion, scanning the tickets of those willing to ride. The only thing left to choose is whether you are still standing on the curb—or finally on your way.

10/16/2025 ☯️tbp - ©2025 BTMT

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Love Will Not Save You—You Will

Love Will Not Save You—You Will

TBP-©2025 BTMT 

For a long time, I believed love would save me. I thought that if I just found the right person, everything broken within me would finally make sense. Love seemed like the missing piece, the great rescuer that would lift me from my doubts and fears. I told myself that if I never leaped, I could never fall. If I never fell, I could never get hurt. It felt safer to stay on solid ground, even if it meant standing still.

Eventually, I learned that love was not the safety net I imagined—it was the leap itself. It was the fall, the ache, the surrender, and the rebuilding. Love was everything I feared and everything I longed for, all at once. It was risk and reward tangled together. It did not save me; it revealed me.

Love did not erase pain or remove life’s weight. It did not fix what was broken or promise a life free of struggle. It offered something quieter, something truer. It was a hand that reached out when I was sinking, a voice that reminded me I was not alone, a gentle laugh that made an ordinary moment sacred. Love did not protect me from life; it gave me the strength to live it.

It was never meant to save me, yet somehow, it made me better. It stretched my heart open, softened the edges I had built for protection, and reminded me that vulnerability is not weakness—it is courage in its purest form. Love helped me see myself more clearly, not as someone waiting to be rescued, but as someone capable of rescue.

When I finally found love that felt real, I believed it would last forever. I thought that love, if genuine, could not leave. I was wrong. The person left, yet love remained. It lingered like light after sunset—fading but still illuminating what mattered most. I discovered that love can outlive the relationship that carried it. It does not vanish simply because two people part ways. Sometimes it stays, stubborn and invisible, woven through memory and gratitude.

Real love does not always last in the way we expect. It is not defined by permanence or possession. It is not an unbroken promise. It exists fully while it lives, then transforms into something new when it must. Love is not lost; it simply evolves.

I do not see love the same way anymore. It is not a cure or a finish line. It is not luck or fate or perfection. It is an act of presence—a choice we make to keep showing up, even when it is inconvenient, even when it hurts. Love is a mirror that reflects who we are becoming. It calls for courage, patience, and forgiveness—especially for ourselves.

Everything changes, even love. Yet that change is not an ending—it is an evolution. The lesson I carry now is simple: love will not save you. No relationship will. You are the one who must do the saving.

Love will walk beside you, teach you, challenge you, and sometimes break you wide open so that you can rebuild stronger. It will shape you into someone more compassionate, more present, more real.

Love will not save you, but it will show you how to save yourself.

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