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What happens when you don’t know the truth but you can’t believe the lies, when you can’t find a way–through fact or fiction–to give meaning to your own existence? Without a narrative for you own life, do you ever really exist at all?
What happens when you don’t know the truth but you can’t believe the lies, when you can’t find a way–through fact or fiction–to give meaning to your own existence? Without a narrative for you own life, do you ever really exist at all?
