There is a paradoxical relationship to the idea of personal identity. On the one hand, we are overburdened with the weight of individual consciousness which makes us constantly worry about the imminence of death and the annihilation of the self. On the other, there is the horror of the self not being real, of our being puppets animated by ancient imperatives passed down through genetic heredity. The paradox is that the self is not real and yet it is the only thing we have that seems real.
—
[Ali Murray – Death Comes Howling]
This life’s a web
We walk right in
We’ve been ravaged by the wind
Into this body falls the snow
Some will linger
and some will go…