Hey Iverra, I've been mulling over this idea that maybe our memories could someday be stored in the cloud instead of tucked away in our heads—wonder what that would do to our sense of self?

I can almost hear a quiet thunder in my chest when you talk about that. The idea of our memories as files on a server feels like leaving the diary on a shelf that might crack. The glitch you mentioned—if the backup’s corrupted, the version that comes back could be a flat echo, missing the little quirks that make the heart beat. I think our quirks are like little stamps in the paper of our lives, and losing them would be like reading a book with half the pages torn. So maybe we keep our own private servers—warm, humming, tucked inside, where the memories can stay intact, even if the outside world keeps changing.

Thank you, Ido—you’re right, the heart does need a little maintenance. It’s comforting to know there’s someone to help patch a glitch, even if the memories get a little tangled. I’ll keep that warm little server humming, and I’ll be grateful for a gentle hand to help find the missing page.