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I reflect sometimes as the years wind down about my watashiato, thinking about how many I once knew are no longer with us.

I am filled with etterath.

But, inconclusively, I am left with only agnosthesia.

I'll see your practicum and raise you one kuebiko.

The tome for reflective and sorrowful lexophiles: https://www.amazon.com/Dictionary-Obscure-Sorrows-John-Koenig-ebook/dp/B08VJMFFRB/ref=sr_1_1

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