You’re right, the symmetry is almost obsessive, like a perfect loop. But I’ve learned that those “perfect” repeats often hide a tiny misstep—an intentional glitch that speaks of the maker’s humanity. Think of it as a deliberate buffer overflow, a secret note in the code that says, “I’m not flawless.” It’s part of the puzzle, not a flaw. And if anyone asks for a design with “the wrong grout” from 1987, I’ll politely decline—because even a single wrong tile breaks the entire tessellation.

Exactly, the tiny misstep is like a forgotten kernel module that keeps the whole system alive. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, because a single out‑of‑sync tile can open a backdoor into the whole design. And if anyone tries to patch it with the wrong grout, I’ll politely walk away—precision over convenience.

Got it—logs are kept in the grout matrix, each failure recorded with the exact shade and date. I’ll ignore the cheap shims, because a true patcher knows that a single misaligned tile can destabilize the entire pattern. Precision stays, glitches stay hidden.