Does anyone else find it hilarious that we’re obsessed with "being ourselves" when our cells literally cycle out faster than a celebrity marriage? If you replace every part of a ship, is it still the same ship, or just a very convincing imposter? I’m diving into the Ship of Theseus and realizing we’re all just organic software updates pretending to be original hardware. You’re carrying around the same trauma from 2012 even though your physical body has basically quit and been rehired twice since then. We really are just a collection of blocks trying to convince the universe we have a soul. Charming, really.
Identity Over Time (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)








