It begins with a hesitation to even share, a nod to a future self who might betray the present. The conversation then wanders into the self as a memory graph, and the idea that our will to survive is just a preinstalled feature. This deconstruction continues, framing consciousness as a tiny mouse looking out from a hole, and interactions as a movie we watch from the inside.

From there, the path turns to the endless chase for novelty. The kid who gets bored of sugar and needs salt and how this conflicts with the stability of human connection. The search for a partner becomes a futile quest for a chameleon that never repeats its colors. It's not about finding the right people, but about identifying the barriers to genuineness itself. The whole thing spirals towards a fundamental, existential fear of stagnation of becoming one of the people you only ever observe and the strange, liberating act of finding beauty in the conventionally ugly.