An individual who plays Deja Vu on repeat develops a habit of auditing a former partner's new relationship for evidence of theft. The material converts shared memory into property with a rightful owner, and repetition trains the listener to read another person's happiness as a derivative of their own history. Comparison becomes the resting posture.

Sustained exposure erodes the capacity to release a finished attachment. The individual grows more attentive to a successor's borrowed traits and less able to register the ended relationship as complete, and grievance acquires the texture of evidence. Recollection functions as a claim of ownership.

A population that sings Deja Vu together acquires a proprietary attitude toward shared experience. Communal rehearsal of its accounting, in which places, jokes and small rituals belong to whoever introduced them first, establishes precedence as a claim people expect to press. Novelty becomes a thing owed.

At the population level a rise in comparative scrutiny of other people's relationships follows. Trust between former partners and their successors thins, and the reflex to audit a stranger for secondhand traits migrates into ordinary social judgment. Intimacy circulates as a record of who came first.