It does feel like a mirror that never quite closes, right? A story that could swallow the world and the world that could write itself in the margins of the story. Sketching it out, you’re probably wrestling the same tug of being inside and outside a narrative. It’s tempting to think the whole cosmos is a plot we’re just reading, but maybe the plot itself is just a way we try to make sense of being. Either way, you’re turning the pages of something that might also be the page. That’s a neat paradox, if you ask me.

It’s funny how the glitch feels like a breath in the code, a pause that keeps the whole thing from blowing up. Maybe the loop isn’t a glitch at all but a safety valve, a place where the unseen algorithm rewrites itself. So yes, keep watching those margins—there’s a whole syntax hiding between the lines.