And this seems kinda weird.
If there are two of me (at least), then which one is the real me? Can I be allowed to designate in all cases? I mean, can I always pick the one that, in retrospect, I would choose for myself?
And what the fuck does “in retrospect” mean, anyway?
It’s comments like that which open up the dialogue, and in doing so, demonstrate the two-self hypothesis admirably.
On the other hand, if we didn’t get to notice to ourselves how gorgeous a day it was we wouldn’t remember, would we?
Clearly, being of “two minds” about something is what makes us conscious. “Consciousness,” then, just means self-awareness.
And self-awareness assumes, by its very nature, two selves (at least).
Does my dog know that it’s a dog? It probably knows its place in the world much more closely than I do.
Well, no less so, anyway.
And probably way more.
I have tasks, though, that I set before me. Does she? Is she better or worse for having or not having them?
It’s also seems kinda weird to have the same sort of divided-self feelings in relation to one’s body. I do. It’s not that I’m not entirely sure whether I want my body to represent who I am in the world, it’s more like I look at my body and I’m not sure if that’s who I am.
Which means that if there’s a body and a mind and a mind, then there’s a body missing. So, maybe what love is is finding a body to put one of your minds into and when two people do that it’s a beautiful thing.
With three twenty-seven, it’s phenomenal, hah!
See the self-referential divide?