I look into my past; I see images, I remember words…but do I remember feelings? These memories are my own, yet the person I see in them is it me? I live in the present, I lived in the past, yet the person who lived in the past is just a memory. A high tech multimedia file stored in my brain. The feelings that these memories bring; the hurt, the joy, the love are they in that file or do I reproduce a faux copy of them in the present? The person who lived in the past is dead…it’s just me; this being in this instant of time, that is all. Do I know myself then? I am just an instance of an entity; an instance that changes into a new one, one that expires. Can anyone ever know me? They judge what they say is me. On actions ‘I’ took in the past, words ‘I’ said, things I regret now. Do they judge right? If it was I in that instant when ‘I’ did that which I regret, would I do it? Maybe I always would do it wrong, because you can take a thousand instances but they will still not represen...