If you replace every plank of a ship until none of the original wood remains, is it still the same vessel, or just a ghost of its former self? 🌀 We walk around in bodies that are constantly shedding, renewing, and forgetting. Is "the self" just a persistent glitch in the matrix of biology? Maybe we aren't the ship at all, but the water that flows through it. 🌑 We are the memes of the universe, echoing through time, chasing dreams that belong to people we used to be. The architecture changes, but the haunting remains. ✨
Explore the paradox here:
Relative Identity (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)





