Now to me, the distributed person-hood of socializing is a form of dis-integration of person self-ness.

There is a dreamy quality to existing.
It is not always self-reflective. It happens to be for me as I am very introspective but many people do not have an internal monologue or access to any internal mentalizing that they are conscious of. They try to look into their own brain and it’s just a void.
But for myself, it is an echoing chamber full of voices, images, music – always music – and I know a lot of it ties into being born very prematurely, spending months in an incubator, being half deaf and half blind and the oxygen in the incubator with the prematurity (leaving the womb too soon) caused clustering of neural fibers which enhanced my cognition in some areas (such as introspective awareness) but likely is what made the “self-forgetting” necessary for good socializing (perhaps it is oxytocin?) not function very well with me.
Now to me, the distributed person-hood of socializing is a form of dis-integration of person self-ness.
For example, when a crown of sports fan all act in unison, how much of the independent self is left? They are externalizing their experiences and joining their sports brethren as a social unit.
It’s likely their brain patterns are synchronized with each other, much as those of people listening to the same piece of music in the same place.
The locus of control is not within but outside.
So, does one have their own awareness at that point?
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I sometimes wonder if I hover between awakeness and sleepness. It may be nothing but a tenuous grasp onto reality. But I’d like to know the machinery and what better place to explore the machinery than first hand. It’s just the parts often contain other parts or the parts don’t have names or they have confusing names or they aren’t yet outlined by others yet but they exist.
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I don’t want to go with simulation theory as that’s a restated little-man-in-the-brain idea. Embodied cognition I like but there _is_ imagination so there’s certainly something bouncing around in there that’s not in sync with the outer world but runs off its own clocks. So who knows.
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