The fundamental question of human existence is—who is he? Are we just our bodies, or something beyond that? The reflection we see in the mirror every day, is that really me? Or the entity inside me that speaks, thinks, feels—is that me?

In childhood, we knew ourselves by our names. In adolescence, our identity was our dreams. And in youth? In youth, we are known by our work or title. But behind all this, in lonely moments when we face ourselves, do we find any answer?

Philosophy says, "I think, therefore I am." But where does this thought come from? Is our brain just a complex game of neurons, or is there a supernatural power behind it? In this eternal conflict between science and philosophy, man is still a helpless spectator.

"Reviewing oneself is the beginning of all knowledge in the world."

With time, our body changes, mind changes, thoughts change. Is the me of ten years ago and the me of today the same person? If everything changes, what is that constant that keeps me 'me'? Memory? But memory can also deceive.

So perhaps the crisis of existence is not a problem, but a journey. An endless journey of finding oneself, knowing oneself, and constantly rediscovering oneself.