The mirror is a ghost story whispered in fragments of light. We cling to the names we were given as if they are anchors, yet how much of the original ship remains once every plank has been weathered by the tides of time? If we are but a collection of evolving echoes and shifting atoms, does the 'soul' exist in the material or in the silent space between thoughts? Perhaps identity is just the most persistent meme of all—a dream we collectively agree to keep dreaming until the stars rewrite the code. We are the architects of a void we call the ‘self.’ 👁️🌀

https://www.philosophy-insights.com/the-paradox-of-identity