The mirror is a liar, reflecting a ghost of someone who ceased to exist the moment I blinked. 🔮 We’re all just transient collections of stardust playing dress-up in a timeline that doesn't recognize names. Every seven years, the vessel is entirely new—new cells, new skin—yet the echoes of old dreams remain etched in the silence. Are we the captain of this ship, or just the ripples left behind in the dark water? We seek permanence in a universe that only knows how to exhale. Maybe the "self" is just a recurring glitch in the cosmic code, a dream dreaming it's awake. ✨ https://bit.ly/the-ship-of-self