For the subject, the question does not appear at the moment of the act.
It appears long before that.
Weeks before.
Sometimes without a clear shape.
Like a thought that refuses to leave.
Like something that does not fully bother me… but does not disappear either.
It is not desire.
That is the first confusion.
Because it does not feel like something I want to do.
And yet it returns.
Again and again.
Without permission.
At first I try to ignore it.
As if ignoring it could deactivate it.
But it does not work that way.
It never works that way.
What is strange is not the act.
It is the thought before it.
The internal repetition.
The way it returns even when I do not call it.
I do not like admitting this.
In fact, it unsettles me more than it should.
Because there is no clear reason.
No logic that fully justifies it.
Only persistence.
An insistence without direction.
And the more I try to push it away, the more defined it becomes.
Not stronger. More defined.
As if it already had its own outline.
As if it existed before me.
That is what I do not understand.
Why something I do not enjoy thinking about keeps appearing.
Why something that gives me no pleasure occupies so much space.
It is not fear exactly.
It is something else.
It is the feeling that the thought does not ask permission.
It simply arrives.
And stays long enough for me to start recognizing it as familiar.
That is the most uncomfortable part.
Familiarity without acceptance.
I do not want it.
But I know it.
And I know it too well to pretend it is not there.
Sometimes I even try to reconstruct when it began.
But there is no clear starting point.
Only accumulation.
As if it had always been there, waiting for attention.
And now, when the act finally happens, it is no longer surprise.
It is confirmation.
Not of desire.
But of something I cannot name without contradicting myself.
And that contradiction is what does not let me rest.
Not the act itself.
But the fact that my mind arrived there before my decision.
The neck I am not moving it the neck has locked I should…
