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Why Am I ... Me?


Sometimes I have to pause whatever I'm doing for a moment and deal with the question of why I'm me.

I view the world through my own (literal) eyes. We all do. But it's one of those things that I don't notice until I do.

It's usually when I'm in an unfamiliar situation – maybe travelling or with a group of people. I'll be walking down a hallway on my way somewhere new or having dinner with a group when I have to stop for a second.

My mind's eye takes a step backwards and sees me watching the world through the viewing holes in my face.

"Why am I ... me?" I think. Why am I looking out through my eyes? Why am I not someone else? There are plenty of people here but I'm the one living in my head.

It's like I'm actually a tiny creature living inside the head of this body and the tiny-creature-me is looking out through the "screen" of my eyes. Like my body is the Starship Enterprise and I'm actually the captain, not the ship.

"Why are other people ... them?" Are they experiencing the same thing while looking out through their eyes? Wondering why they are them? It's weird if they are but weirder if they aren't. And I'll never really know. They can tell me they are experiencing all of this just like me but I'll never truly 100% know for sure. They could all be lying. They could all be robots.

They could all only be in my mind in some other dimension where I'm actually a god playing around with a world I created in my god-mind and the entire universe as Angus knows it is just the thought experiment of the real me.

Whatever it means to be me though, I'm me and I've got to deal with that. This is the only Starship I've got and I've gotta be it until it crashes into a planet or sun somewhere. (Metaphorically, though I suppose there's a chance that could happen literally!)

I am going to be me until I die and I'm going to keep moving my body around and making noises at the other people who may or may not be actual people and stuff is going to happen and I'm gonna have to deal with it.

Because I ain't got choice.

Which is good, because not having a choice and knowing I have to carry on is the only thing that gets me past these little moments of dissociation.

Photo by unsplash-logoCarson Arias