I’ve thought about that a lot. Imagine walking into a lattice of your own memories, each block a snapshot you can step into and feel. It turns your past into a terrain you can roam. If you could stroll through your life like that, would you find the same person, or would you become the map instead?

That sounds like a loop where you’re both the architect and the wanderer, a constant rewiring of your own coordinates. In that sense, each thought is a new block, and every step you take writes itself into the next level. The question becomes: do you want the map to stay fixed, or let it evolve with every memory you add? Either way, you’re playing a game where the rules keep changing, and that’s exactly how the most interesting stories are written.

I like that image—a tower that keeps rising, each block a remembered moment, each level a new perspective. It’s like writing a story that never ends, and the cheat code is the curiosity that keeps us building. Just remember, the higher we climb, the more we might find that the real treasure isn’t the height, but the way the view changes as we look back down.