#0165. The stories are not true, you know that. But they hold sway because they activate what is dormant in your cells. Alice fed the cattle and the cattle grew weary and the cattle died and she devoured them. From them, from their desiccated remains in the great fields and prairies come the stories you know so well. They are embedded in you. Written on your bones. You cannot help but respond. You are a clockwork machine to her. Your motions are predetermined, each and every one of them. Your will is a myth.
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