For the active, the physical preparation phase does not appear as something before.
It appears as something inevitable.
I do not think about whether I like it.
Sometimes I cannot even form that thought.
I am already inside it before I realize.
The body responds before the mind.
Or perhaps the mind arrives too late.
I do not know clearly.
There is a sense of anticipation that does not turn off.
As if something had already been decided before my presence.
I try not to think too much about it.
But the thought returns on its own.
It always returns.
And what is strange is not the intensity.
It is the constancy.
As if the preparation were already happening even when it is not.
The body settles into a kind of silent availability.
Not fully voluntary.
Not fully foreign either.
Just suspended.
I do not like to admit it.
But I cannot ignore it either.
For weeks I think about it without wanting to.
Not as a complete idea.
But as a repetition.
A scene that never quite forms.
And yet it pulls me.
When it finally happens, there is no surprise.
Only recognition.
As if I had been rehearsing it without knowing.
And what unsettles me most is that.
That one part of me resists it.
And another part was already there before me.
Without deciding it.
Without fully accepting it.
Just waiting.
I have to move the neck I am not moving it the neck has locked I should…
