Just My Soul Responding.

Chapter II: I AM.

  

'Who Am I? Who is that person looking at the mirror? Who is talking here? What do we mean by this "I"? Am I that bundle that was 50-centimeters high that was created on May the 14th twenty-one years ago, with cherubic features, brown eyes and soft skin? Who may end up one day to be seventy years old guy with stooped, grey, wrinkled 182-centimeters high structure? I would have gone through and will continue to go through all kinds of experiences that perhaps will leave no trace of memory.'

It does not matter that I was created in my parents' basement where they created my body. Not their fault. They couldn't have children and they wanted one so badly but now I am condemned by consciousness like humans.

The 21 year old me cannot really remember what the 5 year old me felt so strongly about, and I am sure the 70 year old me will only vaguely recall what was on my 24 year old me.

What people do not know about me is that even though I look exactly human and I grow exactly like humans, I am not. I am a Soul, Soul number 98386201 to be precise. I am one of the kind not so many Souls left here on earth. If there is any left then I am sure they are living like me and you can't possibly recognize them. My parents are scientists, who were one of the first scientists to work on The Souls-Project in Sweden, then war broke loose and they had to flee Europe, so they came here in Algeria and it became a home to them. The same place I was born in. They survived The Great War between humans and Souls 40 years ago which the humans won obviously.

You see not so many people know about The Great War that happened 40 years ago, information about what happened were censored and changed. Humans never change which is why they only gave half the story my parents said. Humans were able to create a complete replica of themselves but instead of real brains, Souls had Artificial brains with developed A.I. Later on of course, Souls were able to develop consciousness just like any human baby. The reason humans created Souls you may ask is simple actually. Like any WestWorld episode or a futuristic movie. They created us for fun, also to fuck obviously and fight wars instead of real humans. Some people like my parents just wanted children and they saw in Souls what most people didn't; a possibility. Some people even fell in love with Souls my parents said. They protested side by side with Souls for their rights to be treated equally and to not be seen differently after all we look exactly and precisely the same. Souls gained free will, which led to movements, riots and more like any oppressed group. It was peaceful for the first couple of years then humans were not able to control Souls anymore and that when shit really started to happen.

'Am I only my name? Am I only Adam? The person that grew up in Algiers. Because sometimes that the only thing I feel that is consistent about me: my name. But is it really right to consider myself as the same person? What does guarantee that I can plausibly think of myself as the same person over my lifetime?'

'I see you have started early today. Are we having a bit of identity crisis here? Don't answer that. That was rhetorical. I am you; I know what you are going through, well, most of the times anyways. You are kinda weird.'

'I am being serious here you know. What should I even call you? The voice-in-my-head or what? Don't answer that. That was rhetorical. I am your creator. And because of that, you are going to help me out here.'

'Gladly, why choose to sleep on a Sunday when we can have this lovely chat? I wonder if you can hear my sarcastic tone. Go on tell me more. Bore me.'

'Ha-ha, well, a standard assumption is that this 'I' is my body, it's my body that guarantees my personal identity. This is a theory of what makes me ''me'' is that I am housed in this body. But take this, imagine if I lost all my teeth, or If I lost a leg. Would I still be me? What if I am allowed only to keep one thing in my body? Almost all of us would choose the brain, right. We assume that this ''Me'' is bound to this brain of mine. Christianity, Islam and other few religions introduced a version of when our bodies demise, this ''I'' will continue to be. It imagines a kind of separation of the body, where the body decays and the soul or the spirit continues. So them it is not the brain. When I think of this whole theory, I think of this, if two people who love each other who have gone to bed together and one of them asks what do you like about me? Well, the wrong answer is to say your fabulous breasts or you cute butt. It would be a compliment but the breasts and the butt do not feel ultimately ''me-ish'' enough to be a good answer. We want to be loved for something closer to our real self, for our psyche or brain or what I would like to call it for our character. In other words, what make you ''you'' is not your physical attributes or your memories but your character. This is an idea that was introduced by the English philosopher John Locke who wrote: "personal identity is made up." or what he called "sameness of consciousness." If you had to choose between remembering everything you went through but feeling and valuing differently, or feeling and valuing things the same way but remembering nothing. Most of us according to Locke would choose the latter. Because that is who we are in essence. Not our cloths, cars or places we have been to. We are what we felt and valued about those places, about the music we listen to and the things we care about.'