Just a couple of quick thoughts: Everything smells musty, which is, I think, a side effect of the pain. Pain does funny things to a person.
Second thought, which may or may not be a bit more controversial than me thinking everything smells musty: we are who other people make us. I don't mean after we become adults, though even then to an extent we are altered by those around us; I mean that our very personalities, our beings, who we are is shaped by those around us.
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