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Though people appear to be in control, the architects of their worlds, they are far from it. Consciousness is a small melody in the symphonies of our lives. It paints a story over the true workings. We scurry around, puppets of biology, reacting to stimuli, interacting with other people, post scripting ourselves a convincing story. Our inner narrative, self sustaining in its egocentricity, is an illusory tool for survival.