Kazunori Kura

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In the name of a day

“The ship wherein Theseus and the youth of Athens returned from Crete had thirty oars, and was preserved by the Athenians down even to the time of Demetrius Phalereus, for they took away the old planks as they decayed, putting in new and stronger timber in their places, insomuch that this ship became a standing example among the philosophers, for the logical question of things that grow; one side holding that the ship remained the same, and the other contending that it was not the same.”
— Plutarch, Ship of Theseus

Why is the time I am in not the past or the future but the present? Why am I me, not someone else?
In the continuity, what connects the present to the present?
In the continuity, what binds me to me?
In the name of the past, yesterday or someday, I live today.
In the name of today, I live the future, tomorrow or another day.
In the infinite continuity, the ships sail on and on, in the name of a day.

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