if I had forgotten what I am, how could I continue to do what I did before, this is not a problem because what matters most is what comes, the past is dead, barely can we go to watch pictures, everything else is hidden and n appears at precise moments of joy or sorrow, all of a sudden you think back to a distant emotion stored in a cold chamber of the brain, immediately apparent when the program is finished, it's time to leave, it's been so long that freezes here, but who decides to launch, and for what purpose, because one may wonder what all this is, Human is floundering in uncertainty and past  dives him regularly in doubt, was I this or that, when I now claim to be what I am with great firmness, how not to fall apart now before this question, if I were a monster, I would have been different, that's what I say to comfort me, if I can continue to be potentially other, it will never happen, I'm always me