I am a self insofar as I remember my past. I am a perspective. Would I been born without the hippocampus, or should my memory vanish in a quick flash of nothingness; I’d become holy boundless present: unaging infinity. To exist boundlessly as an immeasurable universe without tribulation in its acts, because in such scenario nothing is feared – the future would not have been invented. A vast field of vibrant being; the most outlandish, yet, innocuous dreams would take place every moment – a placid sleep within the robes of existence.
Pablo,
Memory I feel, is the source of all delusion, as it shapes our understanding of what we preceive as reality, which never is what it seems to be. It never is so because memory defines the incongruent – ephemeral vestiges of understanding, redifined upon each recollection. Consequent neither ourselves, nor whatever we know, are ever consolidated entities with inherent meaing and purpose defined. Sublimity, albeit delusory, as i feel and as your essay proposed to me, could perhaps only be possible within the isolated padded walls of an asylum, as we may lie gagged, groaning with short-term memory loss.