There’s something about all of this that I don’t like.
And it’s not what I thought it was.
For a long time I assumed what bothered me was the curiosity.
The subject.
The things I was reading.
The things I was watching.
Now I’m not so sure.
I think what bothers me is something else.
The ease.
The speed.
How quickly something can take up space inside my head without asking permission.
It happened again last night.
I checked the time.
1:58 a.m.
I remember the time because I thought it was already too late to keep going.
I closed everything.
Not just one tab.
Everything.
I even got up from the chair.
Went into the kitchen.
The cup was still there.
There was still some coffee left.
I touched it.
It was cold.
And I realized something strange.
I remembered making the coffee.
I couldn’t remember when I stopped drinking it.
That gap bothered me more than it should have.
Because it meant I had been sitting there for a long time.
Longer than I thought.
I went back to the desk.
Not intending to open anything.
At least that’s what I told myself.
But even while sitting down I already had that uncomfortable feeling.
As if part of me had arrived first.
As if something was already preparing the path while I was still pretending to make a decision.
That’s new.
Or maybe it isn’t.
Maybe I can only see it now.
I used to think curiosity was a question.
Now it feels more like a reflex.
Something small.
Automatic.
A hand that already knows where it’s going before I even think about moving it.
And the more I watch it, the stranger it becomes.
Because if someone asked me whether I wanted to keep doing this, I would probably say no.
Or at least not this much.
Not like this.
And yet I keep finding myself in exactly the same place.
The same screen.
The same searches.
The same feeling that I’ve already come back before deciding to come back.
I need to move my neck.
I think about it.
I wait.
And then I notice something ridiculous.
I’ve spent more time thinking about moving it than actually moving it.
For a second I realize something I’d rather not have noticed.
I’m not waiting to move my neck.
I’m waiting to feel like the decision belongs to me.
I have to move the neck there is no neck I should…
