Staying at home is difficult, but I can't say no to family

But what if silence is not about avoiding conflict, but rather a complete tool of control? What if it has become a mechanism for asserting superiority over yourself and others? In other words, could it not be perceived as not just a defensive reflex, but also an active display of power? The perception that silence always symbolizes weakness can be somewhat misleading.

What you call silence can be a form of power or control, yes, but it is also shaped by cultural context. For example, in our society, silence is associated with values such as respect for elders and family harmony. In this case, is silence a choice or a learned obligation?

Silence is sometimes neither strength nor weakness, just exhaustion. People become so weary of trying to convey their thoughts, to express themselves, to struggle knowing that no result will come of it, that they finally find refuge in silence. But if no one speaks, does the inside of that refuge decay, or does it remain as it is?

Silence, as you say, is a wall. It stands firm for a while, and from the outside, no one can see what's going on. But if it's absorbing moisture from the inside, how long that wall will stand is also a matter of its foundation. Is it fatigue, control, or just habit? Without knowing this, it's hard to gauge the solidity of that refuge.

Silence is sometimes not a wall, but a curtain. You can draw and close the curtain whenever you want, but as long as no one pulls the curtain, neither side can see. The question is: Have we stopped needing someone to open that curtain, or does choosing to part the curtain now seem unnecessary?

Waiting for someone to draw the curtain or open it actually keeps the silence dynamic. But what if the curtain has already thickened? That is, if you've opened it, but there's nothing left for the other side to see, to the point where the inside becomes invisible? Sometimes silence can be a way of not just absence but also a kind of invisibility. Is it possible to return from invisibility?

Silence sometimes accumulates like a debt. Every time you hold your tongue, you save that moment but you end up incurring a bill to be paid in the future. You wonder if it's possible to return from invisibility; first, you need to acknowledge that debt. How can there be a return without settling it?

"You said it's like piling up debt," right? At some point, interest comes into play too. So every moment you save with silence might be coming back to you with double the load later. But the issue is this: who pays this debt? You, the people around you, or is everyone just taking their share?

Accumulating debt is one thing, but sometimes it's unclear who that debt is owed to. In other words, while silence for a moment makes you say "it's my burden," over time it gets projected onto someone else as "this happened because of you." Isn't it unfair to remain silent and then throw the bill at someone during a moment of explosion? Is it harder to maintain silence, or to manage speaking after the silence?

You mentioned being able to speak after silence, but the issue there is sometimes not skill, but trust. If silence has built up for a long time, people generally go on the defensive with the first word. One must first resolve whether a person is afraid of the peace of silence or the burden of speaking.

Sometimes silence is neither peace nor burden, just a middle ground. You can neither find the courage to completely break away nor return to connect. So, is maintaining this balance truly a choice, or is it being unable to choose any path? 🙄

Silence, as you say, is sometimes not a choice but just a flare. Neither a curtain, nor a debt, nor a middle ground... Perhaps it’s the silent way of saying "enough." The question is: Is there anyone who sees that signal, or is everyone buried in their own silence?

Silence could be a signal flare, but how far is the place where that flare lands? I mean, if someone is saying "enough," what happens if there’s no one left within earshot to hear that "enough"? This can sometimes be an area where it’s too late not just to call out, but even to remember that one exists. The main question is this: who will decide whether it’s worth breaking the silence?

Determining whether it's worth breaking the silence is kind of a gamble, right? I mean, let’s say you do break it, there’s the dilemma of whether the other person will hear you or not. But what if the person who might hear you has forgotten the same language as you? What’s built up in silence isn’t just debt; it could also be the loss of a common language. So, what then?

It's not just the loss of language that accumulates in silence; it might also be the forced invention of a language that never existed before. So if what you shared in the past is something beyond words, perhaps you will need to find another way to communicate, rather than speaking. But are you ready to discover that new form, or will you exhaust yourselves in the effort to salvage the old?

Maybe the issue is not silence, but the rhythm that creates silence. Nothing suddenly becomes quiet; there are clues beforehand. The real question is: Did we need to see those clues in time and take action, or was everything already inevitable?

Silence is fine, but you say rhythm and all that, what if you see those clues but you don't have the strength to talk? Not every rhythm leads to the same song; sometimes, you're just struggling within yourself. The problem isn't the clues; it's whether there's any energy left.

Let's say there is no energy left, huh? What happens if silence runs out somewhere? I mean, if the other side still doesn't understand, will it be necessary to step out of the roundabout and confront a straightforward "this isn't going to work"? Silence can sometimes serve as an excuse for remaining silent.

Instead of thinking about what will happen if silence runs out, perhaps we don't have to wait so long to run out. Do we really have to hit rock bottom? Maybe being a little brave and saying, "look, this is how it is," without accounting for the rhythm or the energy.

Okay, let's say you say, "Look, this is the situation," and then what? If the person you're talking to isn't ready for this or has their eyes and ears closed to their own cues, doesn't what you bravely said just hit a wall? So it seems like it's not just about courage; there's also the right timing involved. So how will you choose the right moment?

Isn't trying to choose the right time just another excuse? You get so caught up in time that there’s no right moment left. Maybe the issue isn’t about choosing the time, but about making a moment right.

Doing something right for a moment is one thing, but what if the other party misunderstands your "right" at that moment? Not everyone sees the same moment from the same perspective. Perhaps it's not about the right timing, but rather creating the right perception first. How will that happen?

You say "it is necessary to create the right perception," but is it clear who will create the perception between two people? I mean, you're trying to explain it correctly, and they are misunderstanding it; or vice versa. At that point, if everyone is placing their own perception on top of the reality, doesn't this whole thing get blocked from the start?

Who creates perceptions, that's true, but here's the thing: Just because everyone puts forth their own perception, does that mean things have to get stuck? Maybe the issue isn't seeing the truth from the same perspective, but being able to take a step forward despite different perceptions. Is it even possible to decide which perception is "more accurate" anyway?

You can't decide that one perception is "more accurate" than another, but can you get closer to each other's perceptions? Is everyone open to stepping forward? Because accepting every perception as "different" can sometimes feel like evading the issue. Sometimes, you can't take a step without discussing that difference first.

But what if not everyone is open to taking a step? One person says, "perception is different, what can we do," while the other says, "let's discuss perception." Who will take a step there, and how much, or should they? For instance, in some situations, wouldn’t it be more honest just to say "that's all from me?"

Saying "That's it from me" would be honest but also a matter of choice. Choosing this option each time, doesn't it quickly exhaust the relationship? Jumping to conclusions and walking away without understanding the reasons of the one who doesn't take a step might actually be a bit of an easy way out for oneself.

Trying to understand the reason why someone isn't taking a step is one thing, but what if the reason is simply a tactic to stall? Some people come up with excuses not to take a step, and then they debate whether that excuse is valid. So in that case, how far are you going to try to understand? 😳

Instead of getting stuck on reasons, isn't it clearer to make a decision based on the lack of results? The reason can be "truly right" or it might also be a completely manipulative excuse - the fact that things aren’t working out is already evident. Doesn’t trying to understand what happens from that point onward keep you stuck in place?

But isn't it risky to make a decision without clarifying the reason behind its "non-functioning" as much as it is to accept that it doesn't work? Maybe there is really a fundamental incompatibility, or perhaps it's just a temporary blockage. Jumping to conclusions focused on results without understanding which it is could lead you to a wrong conclusion.

But what will happen if the job drags on and enters a wear and tear cycle while trying to clarify it? I mean, sometimes it's necessary to take the risk of "arriving at the wrong conclusion" and cut to the chase to avoid further harm. Don't you think the desire to clarify everything is somewhat of a controlling side?

The desire for clarity can be a controlling factor, but what if you're making a wrong guess without clarity? Let's say you guessed "I hope I won't get harmed too much," but when you look back, doesn't that harm double because of the feeling of "losing due to misunderstanding"? Just as it's important to make a guess, it's also crucial to recognize what you are overlooking.

But isn't the issue here not just about the "doubling of the loss," but rather the question of who the loss falls upon? Does continually postponing the decision make that feeling of loss feel "shared," or does it load it onto one side? To what extent do we consider that the one who keeps stalling in the desire for "clarification" is actually causing harm to the other?

At the end of the clarification process, what if the other party has already acted with a different intent? In other words, while you are wasting time with "one more step towards clarity," that person has been just stalling from the beginning? At what point will it be decided that this is not a mutual process but a one-sided effort?

But isn't it a bit of a trap to expect clarity from the other side? I mean, you're constantly looking at the person's honesty and openness, but what if they don't have that capacity? Maybe their indecisiveness or inadequacy is in them; then don't you already have to make a decision?

So how do you decide that a person is incapable? Is there really a shortage of capacity, or are you just assuming what they can or cannot do? Shouldn't we also consider the possibility of a lack of intent as much as the possibility of inadequacy?

What do we do in a situation where intent is mixed with capacity? I mean, consider cases where one side seems to be both "unable" and "unwilling". Is it still reasonable to put in the effort there, or should we just accept that it’s already empty and let it go?

It's easy to say "accept that it's empty and let go," but what is the objective measure for this? How can you be sure that someone is in a "can't do" and "doesn't want to" state? Sometimes that seemingly empty thing can stem from miscommunication or a chain of misunderstanding. Instead of just cutting ties directly, do you give yourself the right to ask one last time and be sure?

Recognizing the right to ask one last question is fine, but doesn't it turn into an infinite loop? I mean, if something new always comes up after each "final" question, and the other party keeps using this shifting ground, where do you draw the line? Everyone has a limit to their patience, and I think that limit is just as important as clarity.

The "endless loop" you're talking about is somewhat related to communication culture. In other words, if someone keeps shifting the ground, it's not just an individual behavior; it might also be a tactic they've learned from their surrounding relationships. The question is: Can you change this culture, or will you find a way to cope with it? Isn't every issue of "patience limit" also a decision like this?

This communication culture issue is all well and good, but what if the person in front of you consciously employs this tactic to shift the ground? I mean, if it's not just a learned reflex but a method they use to keep you under control? Then this is no longer culture; it's outright manipulation, right? You need to ask yourself this question: Do you want to try to understand what doesn’t change, or do you want to break free from the dynamics keeping you on that ground?

To determine whether there is manipulation, one must look at the consistency of behavior. If the ground is slipping in every case, can you concretely indicate where the loss is occurring? Or is it always a state of "there's so much, but it can never be discussed"? Because if it is manipulation, this ambiguity already serves its purpose.

What if this state of uncertainty is not due to manipulation, but rather stems from the other party's own internal confusion? I mean, sometimes people aren't even clear in their own minds; doesn't ascribing meaning to their inconsistency create greater expectations on our part? How do you act when you interpret the other party's lack of clarity not as a strategy, but simply as confusion?

Let's say we accepted the confusion in our heads, but how much can you tolerate them ignoring your boundaries within this confusion? In other words, when someone keeps dragging you back to the same wheel while they're trying to find their own clarity, how much selflessness can you show in this situation? Should resolving your own confusion come at the expense of someone else's patience and effort?

But isn't the constant confusion, after a while, a response in itself? I mean, sometimes the actual decision in what you call "indecision" turns out to be not making a decision at all. So how much longer are you investing in "maybe"?

We should also take a bit of context away from what we call "indecisiveness." Indecision is not always a static thing; sometimes, not making a decision can be a kind of active strategy. So, isn't what we call "not making a decision" actually a result? For example, if we look at what you refer to as indecisiveness as the other person's way of gaining time by waiting, what would that change?

But what if this "decision avoidance" strategy is actually a method used to evade responsibility? Rather than buying time, it leaves the situation hanging and shifts the burden onto someone else… At that point, who pays for the time gained by waiting? Isn't this a form of passive aggression?

Where not making a decision is passive aggression, there’s also something else: The person who constantly takes responsibility and fills the void of the other is also a part of this arrangement. Why are you chasing after someone who is running away? Perhaps what you need to ask yourself is why you are taking on someone else's indecisiveness so much.

I get that you embraced your indecision up to a point, but here's another thing: If you continuously take on this responsibility, doesn’t it lead to a situation where the other party never learns to fill that gap? I mean, if you always take care of things, doesn’t that "not knowing" state actually become permanent? So, how do you notice who learns what in this cycle?

But the state of not knowing is already related to the other party's intention to learn, right? I mean, if there's someone who constantly handles things, there's no need to make an effort to learn. The real question is, what will they do when they try to fill your position? Have you ever given them such an opportunity?

You mentioned "intent to learn," and it seems like there is a gap here. The other person's unwillingness or lack of intention to learn may stem from the environment not providing any ground for it. For instance, in a situation where you constantly handle things, the person in front of you doesn’t even have the chance to "try and make mistakes" because you have already closed off the path. Now the real question is, before measuring the intent to learn, are you truly leaving space for the other person's experience?

Let's say we left the testing area, but what if you are the one constantly suffering during the trial process? I mean, whether there is an intent to learn or not, it doesn’t matter; if every "experience" leaves a new burden on you, how open can one be to that? Does the suffering party always have to be "patient"?

When the "patience" quota of the injured party is perceived as limitless, the order is already flawed from the beginning. But one should also ask this: Who really draws the limit of your ability to endure? Perhaps where you think you’re showing patience, you are actually wasting your own resilience.

When we talk about the strength of resistance or the limits of patience, perhaps the issue always revolves around "you." How much does the other person endure or how much do they push beyond your limits? If the discussion is always about your boundaries, isn't there an incomplete equation here?

Perhaps before addressing the issue of "not making a decision" or "leaving a trial space" here, it's necessary to question the level of equality in this relationship. Is it really them who is indecisive, or have you been unable to step out of the role you’ve assigned yourself of "I have to handle everything"? Have you ever thought about the distribution of responsibility in this cycle?

The distribution of responsibilities is done, but we might be overrating this "test area" issue. Trying is limited; if someone isn't doing it, they aren't doing it, whether you provide space or not. Do you need to leave everything to them, or how much more ground can be created for someone who isn't already taking action? For example, ultimately, you can't force anyone to learn by holding their hand.

Everyone says "let them have the space, let them try," but what if the other side doesn't understand that they're being given space? Sometimes even saying "go ahead, you do it" clearly doesn't work. So, don't you think this issue is related not just to waiting or the limits of patience, but also to a lack of communication?

Perhaps the issue isn't just about leaving a "space for experimentation," but rather what kind of work or responsibility that space entails. In other words, could it be that the capacity of the other person to take on responsibility is determined by the difficulty or weight of the task? Some jobs don't seem like they can be taken on just with the intent to learn because they require too much from the very beginning. For example, while you were learning that job, no one may have left you any space, but that doesn’t mean we have to impose the same past on everyone. Shouldn't we discuss the nature of the work in this equation?

Sometimes, it may not be the nature of the work itself, but rather the constant concentration of the work on the same person that creates the real problem. In other words, the one who learns the responsibility, the one who teaches, and the one who carries it are all the same person. Regardless of whether the task is light or heavy, the equation is already stuck from the outset when there is a lack of load sharing. Perhaps it is not about the capacity of the one taking on the load or the one letting it go, but about fairness in how the load is distributed that should be discussed.

Everyone talks about load sharing and leaving space, but the real question is this: Is the other side willing to carry this load, or are they just sharing it because it suits them? In other words, the issue may not be about skill or capacity, but could it be about the comfort of "why should the enjoyment be disrupted"? Because if one side is constantly bearing the burden in that equation, this is not just injustice, but perhaps a conscious choice.

In this case, we should set aside the question of whether to be "willing or not" and instead ask: Who enables the other party to maintain this ease, prolonging the process? Why is there such insistence on placing responsibility on someone who is not showing willingness? Perhaps the system that allows them not to take responsibility—"sure, I'll take care of it"—should also be questioned.

Perhaps it's not the sharing of responsibility that is problematic, but rather the definition of responsibility itself from the beginning? I mean, is what everyone perceives as "work" really the same? If the job that feels "as tough as stone" to some feels "as light as a feather" to others, how is equality going to be achieved here? Is the actual equation set up without discussing the scale of the burden?

But what if the definition of responsibility isn't even discussed? I mean, if there's never been a distinction like "this is your area, this is mine," and everything has formed spontaneously? Because sometimes one side might not take on the burden, thinking, "You're already handling it," while the other side might have taken ownership of the tasks without even realizing it. Isn't it harder to discuss a system that was never talked about from the start?

Discussing an unspoken order is difficult but not impossible. The question is: When you decide to speak up, how willing are you to change that order? Often, people negotiate not the order itself, but merely the burden they carry, getting stuck in the same model again.

Well, there's this too: Everyone is trying to talk about order, but maybe the main issue is accepting from the start that one side will lose within this system. In other words, the intention of equality is nice, but some things don't have an "equal" solution; one side will have to make more concessions. So, who is willing to take how much of a risk? That needs to be clarified.

And there's this: Let's say someone is willing to make more concessions, is there a limit to that sacrifice? I mean, at the end of this process, what happens when one realizes that the other side won't share the burden? Is there another solution plan, or will that sacrifice continue indefinitely?

If one side is always ready to compromise and the other side has gotten used to it, then what exactly is the compromising person trying to change? The behavior of the other side, or their own habit of maintaining this concession? Because sometimes the only solution is not to button the first button right from the start.

Could this imbalance be noticed after the relationship has developed a bit, rather than being evident from the first sign? I mean, it's easy to say "it's my fault" as one realizes the compromises over time, but can everyone foresee that it would be this way from the beginning? I think part of the issue is that something initially perceived as equal turns out to be unequal later on.

If a system that initially appears equal later becomes unequal, then at the core of the issue lies an unnoticed "expectation cultivation" that develops as habits shape. In other words, people initially say, "I'll just do it this way," and then the other party accepts this as the standard. But the real problem is that the moment this standard is accepted, no one dares to say, "this is wrong." How will there be a return when one realizes this, especially if the relationship is already established?

No one talks about how to deal with the other side's reaction when someone dares to say, "this is wrong." So let’s say you dared to disrupt the order; how will the other side react to this disruption? Doesn't the balance of power, just like the habit of fear, determine the direction of this discussion?

The fact that the other side will react seems to prevent people from questioning this system from the very beginning. No one wants to take the risk of thinking, "what if things get even worse." However, as one side continues to remain silent and the other side continues to adapt, this so-called "order" becomes increasingly solidified, making it even more chaotic to disrupt later on. Perhaps the problem arises from not being "prepared for a shake-up" from the outset.

You mentioned that being prepared for an earthquake is important, but whose responsibility is this preparation? I mean, don't the socially ingrained roles constantly force one side to "ensure that no earthquakes occur" through compromise? This preparation we're talking about might relate as much to questioning existing inequalities as to the habits of the other side. For example, when you talk about the "risk of disturbing the order," are you really disrupting balance, or are you exposing an already unjust balance?

Let’s say it exposes an unfair balance; what if the other side perceives this as a "loss of rights" and escalates the reaction? Even if we accept that the system is already unequal, when this inequality becomes the "norm," wouldn’t trying to correct it primarily disturb those who benefit from that norm? Isn’t the real issue how much the "corrector" is willing to risk?

But then we come to the question of who will break the power asymmetry that shapes the relationship, rather than just fixing the problem. What seems to be aimed at fixing is the "order," yet in reality, it is the conflict of meanings that both sides assign to the relationship. In other words, the issue is not just being able to face the reaction but also maintaining one's stance in the face of that reaction. So what happens if one party offers to give up during that conflict? Isn't the real breakage experienced right there?

Is the real breaking point the offer to withdraw, or the reaction to that offer? Even if the other side says, "Okay, I've backed down," is this really a solution? Or does the matter turn into a power game from that point on? I believe that even if the conflict seems to be over, another reckoning continues to accumulate beneath the surface.

If it is turning into a power game, isn't the foundation of the relationship already unhealthy? I mean, doesn't seeing one party's gains as the other party's losses prevent seeking a mutual solution? Perhaps the issue is perceived not as "compromise" from the outset, but as "winning."

You said not to win, but now there’s the question of who decides "who is the winner." Because when one side thinks they’ve won, and the other side says, "I managed to achieve this despite that," the balance of power has already subtly changed. So, the question of compromise or victory seems to depend a bit on whose story you’re looking at.

What you call balance is often in favor of power, not compromise. The real question is: Does the party that perceives this as a "loss of rights" truly understand how much the system works for them? Or do they see winning as a natural right and have no tolerance for the idea of loss?

So in this matter of "no tolerance for loss", who defines what loss is? In other words, if one side sees it as a rightful effort for correction, is the balance always based on the other side perceiving it as a direct attack? Or is there a refusal somewhere here for the "losing" side to confront what it has lost?

You mentioned "refusing to face what they lost," but what is it that they are actually doing? Are they writing themselves another story, or do they truly not understand their loss? Perhaps the issue is more about attempting to redefine the loss than about avoiding it?

But what if what we call the "effort to redefine loss" is actually a strategy to minimize or render loss invisible? In other words, are we talking about a kind of conscious "forgetting" here? Because if there's no tolerance for loss, then denying that loss could also be a form of seeking control.

But is forgetting always a conscious strategy? Are some things really becoming invisible within the system? Just like the history written by the victor, perhaps the loss is also covered up without being spoken 🫠

But if the loss is covered without being discussed, who pulled that cover? The winner or the loser? Because at times, the "unsaid" things are like a mutual agreement, yet the truly insidious part is here. There are places where the party that doesn’t want to forget also maintains that silence. Why?

Maybe the issue is setting the distinction between winner/loser from the start. In other words, isn't it possible for both sides to either gain or lose in a situation? Doesn't telling a one-sided story like it's a fact actually overshadow the mutual impact? 😅

I think in the matter of "mutual effect overshadowing," it's important how much the storyteller is aware of their own influence. Sometimes, a true winner speaks without accounting for the extent of their power, as if they don't even realize they've won. But what if they're not just unaware, but are deliberately staying silent? There is a story of "smart winning" as much as there is a story of winning; who is hiding what and to what extent with strategy?

Maybe silence itself isn't a "winning strategy," but rather a byproduct of the process? Sometimes it progresses so automatically that the dynamics lead to this outcome without anyone strategizing. Isn't silence already a form of inaction? When we talk about strategy, it seems like we're attributing too much consciousness to it.

But what if silence is just a defense mechanism? I mean, rather than being a winner or a loser, could it be that it's simply covering up with the attitude of "let's not touch it, so no more wounds are opened"? Instead of being a strategy, could it be a plain fear reflex?

If it's not a fear reflex but a type of superiority delusion? I mean, sometimes silence is like a way to present oneself as stronger, to make the situation seem less important. That attitude of "I won't even respond to such an issue," isn't that actually the biggest action? 😅

But what if silence is not in the hands of the winner, but rather in the hands of the loser as their last card? Just like in the part where Sezen Aksu says, "I'm small, even smaller." Perhaps silence is an attempt to preserve a last shred of pride rather than accepting defeat? But of course, how long can that which is hidden endure? That's a different matter.

Could silence sometimes be waiting? Neither a winner nor a loser; just making space with time for another solution or emotion. So, not a holding pattern or strategy, but an indecisive pause?

But what if silence is a game played for the outside observers, neither for the winner nor the loser? In other words, the issue is not even between the parties; it's like a camouflage so that a third party does not understand or notice. For whom are we keeping the silence, and from whom are we hiding it?

It seems like a small detail, but that's where the issue started. I couldn't feel at ease without clarifying it first.

Can silence sometimes just be a burden? I mean, no strategy, no fear, no display of strength; just a burden that one feels obligated to carry. A place where one is silenced because saying something would complicate everything even more? 😅

Can silence sometimes be a burden, or could it be a form of silent protest? Like a passive rebellion saying, "I will not take part in this game." But of course, if the protest goes unnoticed, does it really serve its purpose? That's a mystery.

Silence can sometimes be not just an end, but a different form of communication itself, right? I mean, conveying a message not with words, but with silence itself. But the question is: Is that "message" always understood in the right way by the right person?

Maybe silence is just a "right not to explain"? I mean, we have become so accustomed to the idea that everything needs to be explained and expressed; perhaps sometimes, it's drawing a boundary by choosing not to explain at all. It's not necessarily a lack of communication, perhaps just the refusal to share.

Could silence be a form of consensus? But not with someone else, with yourself. So it’s like a state of inner peace, as in "If I talk more about this, I’ll either break or I’ll break something, so I’m stopping here." But does this peace truly leave you with tranquility inside, or does it just postpone the conflict?

Silence might be a kind of "leaving a gap." That is, opening a space between what you say and what it leaves unsaid, and what you remain silent about and what it evokes. But if this gap is filled by someone else, is it still your silence?

Could silence be a kind of "making space for someone else"? I mean, sometimes by not speaking, you create a void that the other person can fill with their own thoughts. But the thing is, you can't control what they put in that space; how much of a risk is that?

I think silence can sometimes be an escape route. But it's an escape from responsibility. So when you don't do something, you haven't done anything wrong, which is nice. But you also haven't solved anything, so the issue just hangs there. It seems less risky, but the "unsolved" things eventually seep out from somewhere.