living dead man

My subconscious mind murdered my identity.  It came up from behind and put two bullets in my head and three in my heart. It felt like the first time I laughed at an SNL skit. The way it’ll sneek up on you.  So hear I am. Standing over the corps of my old identity, not really knowing what to make of the situation. Am I a different person now? Is a man a collection of actions or a collection of thoughts? What is the importance of a being’s self perception? 

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