Self-stuff

I search for the I – the italicised I, the I that seems to exist beyond the grammatical I, the self-stuff that somehow arises from the spaces in my brain. The I that tries so hard to preserve itself, that seeks validation and recognition and connection. Yet the deeper I look, the more this I seems not to exist in any cohesive or even real sense. For it is not the I that generates the thoughts, it is the thoughts that generate the I! But then where is the "perceiver"? Am I just an "emergent property", a sum of the collective voices of my synapses (and what a clamour that is)?

As a neuroscientist, I am meant to reduce this thing to ever more precise mechanisms, to localise the seat of desire and reward, to dissect the physiological role of pleasure. Yet I find myself restless and dissatisfied with this endeavour – a mere disembodied bundle of information trying to disentangle other disembodied bundles of information.