This is me

Not so much possessing ideas but that of ideas possessing me: thus the illusion: this is me. This is me. Except, I am not myself today. Who? The ‘I’ or the ‘myself’?

The belief of self. The confusion of self.
As the multiple identities, which all feel so ‘me’, so true, so real, jostle and fight for supremacy, in this skin bag of meat and bones. This is me. But excuse me, who are you?

Just an idea. Just an idea surviving in the war of survival.

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