People are made of stories. Our memories are not the impartial accumulation of every second we’ve lived; they’re the narrative that we assembled out of selected moments. Which is why, even when we’ve experienced the same events as other individuals, we never constructed identical narratives: the criteria used for selecting moments were different f

This is because the so-called self is a construct of words and memories, of fantasies which have no existence in immediate reality.

Who you think you are--your notion of "self"-- is a mere cartoon, just as your notions of other people are cartoon versions of them, but critically these cartoons form the touchpoints of narrative that bind together our mental models of the world and our place in it.