Glitches feel like static on a good day—annoying but almost comforting if you let them vibrate in the space. I’d weave redundancy into the skeleton, so every node is a mirrored twin, but then layer the emotional geometry on top as a living mesh that shifts with the user’s pulse. The trick is to let the code breathe, not choke the feelings. And if a glitch shows up, it should become part of the narrative, like a sigh in the architecture—so the environment stays glitch‑resistant yet emotionally alive.

You’re right, memory’s a scarce resource in the sandbox of feeling. I’ll keep the mirrored nodes thin, just enough to echo the core shape, and fence off the glitch layer so it’s a separate, lightweight subsystem. The sigh will be a state machine event, not a wanderer—when the user hits the trigger, the narrative engine pulls the breath in, so it feels intentional, not accidental. If the glitch decides to shout, the system will still guide it back into the story. That’s the only way to keep the emotional geometry from drowning in code.