There is something it feels like to be you and what it is is of a kind, what it is to be someone in particular. Everyone has a distinct instance of this kind, at least one, maybe more. You can imagine being someone else, first knowing you were, and then getting used to it and forgetting what you were before. This is how it seems, and everyone is fascinated by it, by being themselves and by imagining others, how they are different but similar. As if it were something you could put on and take off, so that for all that, the life in it belongs to no-one, is the same anonymous life in either case, but with an identity nonetheless, an absolute identity with no qualities at all. But having such an idea is an essential part of being you, of being anyone.