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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡠⠤⠖⠲⢬⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠋⠀⢀⢐⣶⣶⣿⣍⢯⣑⣒⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠩⣽⣿⣿⣾⢿⣻⣧⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣤⡾⢛⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣷⣸⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣎⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠗⠯⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠉⠽⣷⡿⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡿⠏⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⡾⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡙⢳⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⡠⠼⣶⡷⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⢸⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⡽⠀⡷⠓⠻⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⢸⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠛⠁⠰⡇⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠘⡆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⡙⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡃⠀⣧⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡤⢼⣇⠀⢹⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠠⠤⣾⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⡴⠒⡏⠀⢳⠀⠸⡆⠀⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡄⠀⢸⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⢹⡇⠠⣿⠀⢸⠀⢰⠓⢰⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡖⢫⠡⠯⠅⡀⣀⡠⠖⢋⣠⡿⣆⢨⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠸⠃⠀⠁⠀⠘⠆⣸⢀⣿⡇ ⠀⠰⢴⣒⣶⣿⢻⣫⠤⠖⠒⠒⢻⣟⠴⠶⢝⠟⠁⢸⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⢸⠁⠁ ⠀⠀⣐⣾⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠶⠶⣤⣶⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣯⣼⡞⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⢯⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣻⢿⣿⣿⠱⠀⠀ ⠀⢙⣛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢸⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢘⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣮⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⢹⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ i am often bit by the bug of hyper-fixation. while the hyper-fixation bug's intended target varies, the effects primarily are attracted to and fixated on any path, potentially providing an opportunity to return to my past. in a vain attempt to placate the bug's desires, this self-prescribed space exists. this quest has no final goal or mission in sight. it will oscillate between seemingly endless updates to complete radio silence.

just a space to land until i awake from the fugue state fever dream