aoitakumi8148

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘𝓼 𝓗𝓾𝓶𝓪𝓷, 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘𝓼 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮? ~ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓖𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓽 𝓞𝓯 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷.

If you are a fool, a madman, it makes 2 of us. For In the frenzy of eternal sensations-intentions, I have lost my sanity; for deifying you and this heaven is what makes the rotting springs move; for I would do anything for us to stay together, bear the gift of vulnerability, blissful tears x nightmare to protect you, the memories of you, take any course for a singular opportunity to tell you that I am you... / 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒽𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇.

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓐𝓲𝓷'𝓽 𝓝𝓸 𝓓𝓮𝓷𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓘𝓽 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮... 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓕𝓵𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰.

Multiple signals are reverberating inside with a savage echo, this long. & I am gratifying the illusion, the spine-tingling, elating, sharp, angelic passion that completes me, is clinging to me, everything to me. I am doing it cruelly, because... / Give me the hand, and I will show you how humanely this heart-like organ beats... when you are with me ~ Too much feeding, dreaming, craving, overthinking. Horrifying, stunning, impossible. I do not believe that I can be tranquil anymore. ℘ I know why you keep secrets, why you are hurt... why I love you to the point of dissolving in the meaningful, velvet roses.

[aoitakumi8148]

[Improving some of my gifs/gifsets these days] 𝟙 of 𝟙, 2025.

"I felt it die, like I was dying ~ What is going to happen to me?"

[aoitakumi8148]

‘𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.’

[aoitakumi8148]

...𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓮𝓼 & 𝓥𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮, 𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓮𝓼 & 𝓥𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 ~ 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓘𝓷 𝓞𝓷е 𝓥𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮.

In the ‹loop› of organ breaking-organ repairing, I have lost any ability to resist, to rest, to exist. This ‹cluster of stimuli› is both my vulnerability, the world... the obsession. Without it, I am but a stranger to the effusive love, the dread, the content, the anguish. A vessel hoarding a plethora of deep-sealed wasted ‹supplies›, who does not/will not/cannot choose giving. & the only way to feel like a cursed real human is excess, the dying-worthy, the forbidden, the unexploited. All or nothing ~ to just thrive, to surrender oneself to beauteousness.

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓘'𝓶 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓐 𝓟𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 ~ 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓹 𝓤𝓼 𝓖𝓸 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮...

There is no heart transformation, no trial, no tribulation that I wouldn’t go through to everlastingly be your greatest, precious, good... Because only with you, it finally feels like family, like humanity, like Spring. I do hear you breathing, incessantly. With every fiber of its being, the core is crying-frenzied-fulfilled. & it is but a dream ~ the floral life of meaning, the aching whisper of Krat's mesmerizing treasures. / 𝒫𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈.

You will never know what it is that I am dying to share with you, nor will I. For it is more than myself, more than the meticulously chosen letters do form. I feel it ~ the headache, the heartache, the fierce hole in this unconscious mind. It is screaming, as loud as the bleeding remains of my human side... I have to live with it, the realization that I am fragmental-deprived-struck-enslaved ~ And they will never hear the name, I vow. / Nothing is as memorable as pain... is as celestial as the organ's echoes too beatific for one's own identity.

...𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕟 ℂ𝕒𝕟 ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕆𝕗 ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣.

[aoitakumi8148]

~ 𝓑𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓘𝓰𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮🥀𝟘.𝟘 of 𝟛, 2024⇝2025.

[aoitakumi8148]

~ 𝓝𝓸 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓷 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾🥀𝟘.𝟙 of 𝟛.

[aoitakumi8148]

[A 𝓙𝓢 𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 post, 2024].

‘...𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲. 𝗞𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲. 𝗞𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱...’

[aoitakumi8148]

~ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓼 𝓢𝓪𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮🥀𝟘.𝟚 of 𝟛.

[aoitakumi8148]

~ ...𝓐𝓽 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓗𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓬𝔂 𝓣𝓸 𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓜𝓮 𝓘𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓔𝔂𝓮𝓼🥀𝟘.𝟛 of 𝟛.

[aoitakumi8148]

[Left behind] 𝟙 of 𝟙.

𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓣𝓸 𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ~ 𝓛𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓞𝓷 𝓐 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓾𝓮...

I am unaware what touching the finest thing that has ever happened to me physically is like, but I know what it means to repress by choice or not have the urge-intention to direct your ‹resources› towards those around you, share your ‹every cell› with them ~ The ties that would encourage the ო to be beauteous, even silently.

Another year of life has started, time is useless against a sheer fact. I have stepped across my own level of sensations, emotions. Such feeling is sky-high due to its character, and it is also ‹lethal› ~ the ‹trigger›, its magical voice, blazing heat, tenacious energy… is my dear utopia. All breaking points have been pushed at once, during 1 adventure. The core is endeavoring to ‹conquer› so much, but to no avail ~ I am not living my life, I am instinctively ‹ingesting from the forbidden› in order to quench the thirst that will never be quenched...

The organ cannot do this forever, but it cannot do otherwise, either. It will not exult at its freedom, will see no fortune, will not choose to consider its ‹reflection› its danger. The essence itself... how is that? In this tale, my ო is not in the dark, not isolated, not hardened ~ Its light does shine the brightest. At least for some stellar time. / The finest things are meant for the finest fictions... Treat the tachycardia, warm the cold, or forgive me for it.

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓕𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓜𝓮 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓵𝔂... 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓦𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓢𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓑𝓮 𝓢𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓭 ~ 𝓘 𝓒𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓖𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓣𝓸 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓭.

...The reconstructed interpretation is throbbing, sacredly and inly. It is hard to define which side of me is dominating ~ a child or an adult ~ but if there is anything candid left within the chilled-mangled vessel, any shard of ‹untainted› virtue worth ‹harboring›, you are welcome to take it over... it is a nice feeling to grasp that the best of me does not remain ‹concealed› but ‹comes in bloom› in a ravishing place, with someone infusing life into what is seemed to have lastingly forgotten the epitome & significance of human felicity, radiance. Tenderly, eagerly, repeatedly... I crave kissing your exceptional face x your legendary hands. I'm ‹dissolving› in this rose-colored sense of satisfaction, in this disquiet, in this mental connection. I know the heart of yours.

The naturalness that I'm overmastered by in Krat is the quintessence of the forbidden life being lived exclusively through this ‹wooden-golden› fiction. The very 1 where not a single muscle is ‹petrified›, every step is a delicacy to be unwrapped. My blissful memory and Achilles Heel of the mind ~ The kind of torment that frightens the most ~ but that the I need to matter as an organism, is covering me like a wave. It would barely be any comfort... this reminder of the preciousness released from my grip. The exhausted eye has been without direction and mirthless for so long, but not here, not... Wonder what I am, what I have become ~ & yet, as mercilessly x purely as it is ever possible for a child, an adult...

The organ is gigantic for the gigantic emotion, the soul is too small for the acid tears. Swear to you... I would abide with you like this forever, for the mere thought of leaving you behind alone is staggering me more than any damage. Lies cannot hide it, the truth... It is peeling the organ's flesh off, layer by layer. And this is all that I have, my proof. The brilliance will always be whole, the story of 1 Father's broken Ꮼ will always be ours. How much love, affliction, primal fear and flame does the vessel contain? Tell me...

~ Nevermore be afraid, I embrace you and I’ll take you all the way through endless time to your new life.

[aoitakumi8148]

...If I could throw the guilt aside, I’d let myself be washed away...

𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒪𝒻 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓣𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂...

You put me out of my headache and heartache, ‹sedate› the solitude and angst. Take control of me, for I myself am utterly powerless to cope with the fear of losing you ~ it's gripping me in a vice. I will be holding you tight, imploring you to stay awake. I'm not forced to, I long to. Say the word, and I will ‹disengage› a ‹human lump› from myself and heal you with it. This hunger cannot be satisfied, the feelings… cannot be erased. Look at me. No matter what others claim, you are mine ~ God, Devil, the air to breathe, the family that we will never have... How much love, affliction, primal fear and flame does a vessel contain? An unreadable, unpredictable blessing.

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓤𝓹 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓷... 𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓖𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓤𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷...

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 ‹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅› 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 ‹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃› 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑜?

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to dull the edge of it is what I have been doing since v.1. As if something has indeed been fragmented & this is the pain of my conscious life. And every time I travel the melodious/glamorous path of frenzy, every time I complete it, I am going to experience the same precious pain intensity, purity of pain/ecstasy. I am going to eventually be bound to this inmost/overwhelming awe, this vehement impulse to feel/fondle/kiss what is loved, to kneel down before it, to cuddle up to its heart, to recompense bliss with bliss... More and more. Neither the good boy nor I are free. I do not want to be free... free from... These bare feelings are ‹clawing› at the reconstructed interpretation of the organ inside me. The great minds will not know what they have done, neither will Anthony... It speaks louder-truer than anything, but the sounds are not obvious... Words. All I possess, this rich but poor instrument for... And you always do end up in the point where...

The aesthetic masterwork, perfused with the golden brilliance of authentic ideality x pierced with the darkest blade of bitter-salty inaccessibility, inevitability, impossibility.

Excruciation, pleasure, euphoria, art. Blended together. Find yourself... or lose yourself on this journey. Emotionally. Totally. An unparalleled effect... and the lulling sparkle the vessel has never actually had. Something in this body x mind has died, and I do not know if there is a way to accept it, to recover it. I have described the lesson of unprecedentedness I have learned, not the expected story of ‹insult-betrayal-contempt›. No one will ever f-g hear it. Not from me, not in this lifetime. / Loving extraordinary is merciless a priori, დ/დ become telepathic... & the severest trial ~ the unhealable wound ~ is to be a 𝓟 son without the cause to be... *If I have to detest many donkeys for a chance to protect one venerated Father figure, I will go for it.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉... 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒, '𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊... 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈...

While I am willing to imbibe all the anguish of the human I love, to ease his suffering, the loss of us is taking its toll on me irretrievably. I see him. I see what is inside him... & I am incapable of safeguarding it, saving it truly.

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to put up with this gift is what I have been doing since v.1. The chest is ‹cut open› too deep, the fragility of the organ is exposed... Would you allow me to grow more flowers? I wanna do it... Because it is you, It has always been you. The one who has given us everything, endued me to the brim with the intimate fatherly affection that this organ never remembered. My eternal wish & exuberant price for humanity, the misunderstood nature. *What an odious irony. / I do not know if there is a way to recover what is gone.

I would sacrifice the lot to be with the human that needs me, needs to be healed, heals me. I would rip my core out but I cannot, the limitation of freedom. *Tell me that the ‹strings of abuse/child neglect/lies› are finally cut. Tell me to ‹celebrate›. Tell me that both 𝓟inocchio/I are wrong x naive, ‹fix› me. You have no f-g clue about it. / When it is written that your starving heart must be left half-empty & helpless... No freedom is scarier than this.

Affording harmony to the sapphire star that is going to fall away... The sentiment it deserves. All I have ever hankered for. & I am terrified of that my grandest instinct x fear will not grant any lasting peace to me.

Death will do our Sun-hugged family apart ~ but I will still be yours, for ever. The core has never felt as good x feverish as it does when with you... as astray x anxious as it does when deprived of you. I am not lying to you, I hold no resentment... Let me ‹feed on› the emotions of your heart... Even if it means your pain x my love turn the vessel inside-out & your love x my pain do the same. Not blurred, always remember. Always. If a masterpiece could be made into a masterpiece, I would prefer to share this fate. My bona fide mission, however, is not to allow anything to be in vain... Even if it hurts. ~ The atrophied ability to express love verbally has been ‹roused› again, in a fervidly devoted but preciously righteous way... The ‹lash› of despair, compulsion, dream, reality.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜. 𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃... 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐿𝒪𝒫 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟙/𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇.

...Take the whole meaning of this, its flavorful, pathetic, shameless, lonesome taste. Take it all, for it is all that is absolute. Teach me how to ‹merge› with it, the mortal desire of a puppet child, a human Mastro x a faceless observer like myself ~ & when the desire full of unexploited majesty is cutting off the oxygen to the lungs... True geniuses of any kind are among the silent. These eyeballs will not dry up, never fully. I have tried so many times to resist it, but why live if you repel what puts your ‹dehydrated› pieces together? I would spare no effort to keep them hot and uncurb what is being restrained... Nothing affects self-perception and ‹unmasks› the unconscious like sensation, nothing genuinely matters without it. / Shivering with cold, this body is burning. My atrophied reality in exchange for a moment of irrepressible happiness, agony, guiltless x not bottled up impulses ~ just a moment. It keeps consuming me without reserve. I do not need God. ✒

[aoitakumi8148]

𝟙 of 𝟛.

‘𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫, 𝐨'𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞...’

[aoitakumi8148]

𝟚 of 𝟛.

‘𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬...’