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I went to visit the family over the weekend, and it wasn’t a great experience. On every face ‏(except for that of G., the most beautiful of women‏), I saw what is probably also etched on my face − tension, existential tension. Sharp, horrid lines stretching downward from the sides of the nose. And a long face. That’s what I see around me every day. This tension is somewhat hard to put a finger...