As you stack up the years, you might find that the backstory takes longer to upload every morning. The origin story, and all of the things that came after it, to explain why you are here and not anywhere else. The drive has never been defragmented; the read head skids all over the shop in weaving today’s version of yr identity.
As you step out of the front door, if indeed you still step out of the front door, you will be presented with a vista in dubious perspective. It might be days old, weeks old, or even decades. Depending on how settled the story has been, you may or may not even recall when this was all terra incognita; the perspectives stacking up precariously in every direction to present amalgams that will always remain a no-place that can never be fully decoded.
Reinventing self and environment is a constant task of imagination. Those of us who don’t feel that we are inventors might imagine that these things merely are, but that is to ignore the constant imperative to reconstruct the world, because without that labour it will someday just step away from us.
And then where will we be?