The more certain you are about where the “you” is, the less certain you can be about where “you” are going
We are not who we were, nor who we will be,
A dance of identity, wild and free.
Like particles caught in uncertain flight,
Our past and present blur in the light.
Heisenberg whispers, “You cannot hold,
Both place and purpose; both shy and bold.”
So too our souls, in a flux untamed,
A truth incomplete, never fully named.
Relativity bends time and space anew,
Shifting what’s real from every view.
Who we were then, who we are now,
Both true, both drifting, like shadows somehow.
In each fleeting moment, a self we find,
Uncertain, evolving, undefined.
