I should not be watching it this much.
Not for moral reasons.
Something else.
More uncomfortable.
Harder to explain.
It always starts the same way.
A tab.
A link.
A video that is not entirely real.
Or that is what I tell myself.
I tell myself that so I can keep going.
Today I opened it without thinking.
That is the worst part.
Without thinking.
Just a gesture.
My finger already knew the path.
Before I did.
The screen loaded.
Slow.
Too perfect even in loading.
As if it already knew what I wanted to see before I wanted it.
That unsettles me.
But I do not close it.
Not yet.
There is something about that perfection that does not feel like desire.
It feels like order.
Like something that leaves no space for doubt.
And still I am here.
Watching.
Without blinking.
I catch myself looking for mistakes.
Something human.
A small error.
An imperfection that would bring me back to somewhere real.
But it is not there.
Or if it is, I do not see it.
I am not sure which is worse.
The room is silent.
Only the fan.
Only the glow of the monitor.
Only my breathing, which I do not fully control.
I realize I am more tense than I should be.
Not exactly aroused.
Something else.
More like being trapped.
As if the body responds before intention does.
That is what scares me.
Not what I see.
But how it affects me without asking.
Dust floats near the screen.
Tiny points suspended in light.
Up.
Down.
As if they are being rendered too.
I catch myself thinking something absurd:
this is not real, but it is not a lie either.
And I do not know what to do with that.
The video continues.
No pause.
No effort.
Too smooth.
Too clean.
And I am still there.
Hand still.
Not touching anything.
As if moving would break something already happening inside me.
I do not fully understand it.
And that is what keeps me there.
I do not keep watching because I want more.
I keep watching because I do not know how to leave without feeling I am losing something I cannot even name.
The cursor stops on a point.
I did not move it.
Or I think I did not.
For a second I have the absurd feeling that the image is looking at me.
Not at my eyes.
At something else.
Slower.
Deeper.
I close the tab.
I open it again.
No reason.
No decision.
Only return.
As if the gesture is no longer mine.
I have to move my neck I am not moving it…
