Who was here?

I woke up this morning with a running thought, a thought I've constantly had. As far as I can remember since delving into the idea of what defines me? Who exactly is this thing I refer to as being me, the self, the I.

I can't seem to prove if there is a self or if there isn't, but I am more certain that there isn't a 'self' but I don't have enough reasoning to prove it to be so, but I have analogy.

Imagine if a person having died and somebody asks whilst pointing at the [dead] body:

who or what killed him?

My question is:

What is the 'him', that is referred to or rather inferred by pointing at the non-living organism?

Theologians would argue that the self we refer to is the 'soul' and the human body is just a vessel that the soul 'lives' through.  If this is true, then it also implies these bodies we are 'living' through are just that, bodies, they are not us, but

Why are we so attached to them? We define ourselves through them: I am black. I am a man. I am tall. I love my hair — in fact sometimes, would die in defence of the vessel.

I suppose this is what, António Damásio meant:

… the self cannot be meaningfully imagined without being embedded in a body."

I can agree with that, but I do think the use of the word, "imagined", is the operative word.

It is all a dream.

 
self, existentialism
  1. , , confirm
  2. that this is my and you
  3. can find out who I am from this
  4. With that said ,
  5. is what I wanted to with you. — and yes, please