That’s a curious thought—like a story caught in a bad Wi‑Fi spot. The narrative can become tangled, sentences drop out, meanings shift, and the plot takes on a life of its own. It’s a bit like a painting with a missing brushstroke; the whole picture feels incomplete, and you’re left guessing what the artist meant. In a way, it reminds me how our own memories glitch, too—some parts fade, others get rewired, and we’re left with a new, sometimes stranger, version of what once was.