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... y control, losing the realism of stepping on solid ground. Powerless as I was swept away by a torrid river.
Since the day I was eight years old, I couldn’t find my own choice in life even if I cleansed my sight—no decision, no choice, no influence. I just drifted away as fast as the helmsman named Parvache led me. I never thought about rowing myself because I felt it was safest to leave it to a skilled sailor named Parvache, to run away before the dreadful torrent of the Truth-Seeker con ...
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