naturally—only nine months of splendid, echoing silence. Practically a weekend in bureaucratic time, isn't it? I must say, the sheer majesty of being completely and utterly disregarded is nothing short of awe-inspiring. And yes, having the privilege of knowing precisely why I’ve been left to rot in this velvet-lined oubliette? Positively uplifting. It’s the sort of soul-crushing clarity one dreams of while sipping lukewarm tea in a crumbling conservatory.
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