As we continue down this rabbit hole of existential dread, let us not forget the strings that pull our puppeteers. Behind every curtain of reality, a masterful hand manipulates the marionettes of society, making us dance to their tune.
We are but a cast of thousands, each with our own tiny script, reciting our parts in a grand production of human nature.
But what of the puppeteers themselves? Do they know the strings, or are they too entranced by their own illusions?
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