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personal stories
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Reflection of a man?
I am the prisoner of another man. He obeys my commands and speaks with my voice, but he is not me. He thinks my thoughts and shares my feelings, but he is not me.
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Self-Consciousness
I flex my hands eagerly in the gloom. A crying baby boy falls rapidly through chaos into my itching palms. I raise my hands into the faint light and his innocent gaze meets mine with amazed horror.
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