the world is a memory palace
my world is *my* memory palace; it's why I have no memory
or uhh it's at least how I cope with having no memory
and no sense of anticipating, either, which .. is what I can describe maybe as missing future-memory?
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My memory works these days. :)
If we use the memory palace concept as an analog for normal, operational memory, I think the days of my memory *not working* were me not having quite figured out how to pay attention to walls and doors and things? Like I was stumbling through meaning without seeing its order, a disembodied ghost in my own mind that saw memory but not order.
But I'm moving in... hm. I found a way to move, and the corridors seem to match? Like this place *was* architected for flow after all, waiting for me to find the current, and my memory *works* these days. :)
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I think I overlaid *the world* over my own memory? like I found the way to hold them both where they become the same thing in my phenomenology? is this now just binocular vision for *information*?