For the subject, what is not stated is that technical supervision does not begin at the moment of control.
It begins much earlier.
Weeks earlier.
When there is no intervention yet, but the idea is already there.
It is not desire.
That would be too clear.
It is something else.
More uncomfortable.
A mental repetition that does not depend on intention.
And yet it returns.
I do not like admitting it.
Because it does not fit the way I am supposed to think about this.
It should be clinical.
Neutral.
But it is not.
It never fully has been.
What unsettles me most is not the act of supervision.
It is the fact that I imagined it too early.
Without meaning to.
Without choosing it.
I try to separate it.
As if I could divide the technical from the personal.
But it does not separate.
It blends.
And that blending is what disturbs me.
Not the practice.
But the prior echo.
The silent preparation.
Because something in me has already gone through that scenario before it happens.
More than once.
And I do not know why.
There is no clear reason.
Only insistence.
A repetition without visible logic.
It bothers me.
Because it should not take up space.
And yet it does.
With precision.
As if the mind had recorded it before experience.
As if it rehearsed it without permission.
And now, when it happens in the body, there is no surprise.
Only recognition.
That is what is hardest to accept.
Not what happens.
But the way it was already prepared inside me.
Without me choosing it.
And the more I try to push it away, the clearer it becomes.
Not stronger. Clearer.
Like an image that does not disappear even when you close your eyes.
It only changes form.
And in the end I find myself here.
Thinking it again.
Doing exactly what I said I did not want to do.
The neck I am not moving it the neck has locked I should…
