I. The Fragility

What we call the self is but a scattering of moments, most of which dissolve quietly across time.

Memory, for all its warmth, deceives. It smooths the edges, reorders narratives, cloaks regret in sentiment. The mind hardly retrieves experience as it was; it reassembles from fragments, softening with our yearning, and distorting with our fears.

Psychologists call it reconstructive memory - Each act of remembering is a kind of creation, but also a quiet forgetting. We do not recall the past as it truly was, but as it suits the present self. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis - times change, and we change with them.

Thusly, if the self is defined solely by memory, it will forever be in flux. How then, do we anchor ourselves drifting on the seas of time?

Tempus edax rerum : Time, devourer of all things.

II. The Anchor

To be continued. Sincere articles in this age are extremely difficult. :(
Hopefully with some meaningful animations! :)
Can you guess the language of code block renderer based on the colour highlight? ^_^

In the echo of all unwritten words,
QSD, QSB, and the once beloved QXD