Feelings are roused from within me by a catalyst I’m unsure of. Life starts to look like a performance, a mere play where people seem to move mechanically around the stage muttering, babbling, shouting, stuttering, whispering words from a script they barely understand. Taken aback by the revelation, I’m questioning my own wisdom. Assurance threatens to be mistaken with vanity. Certainty slowly drifts away into a broad, endless land of doubt. How much do I know is true when truth itself begins to seem like an illusion?


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