Today I did something different.
I don’t know if it was a decision.
I left my laptop open when I left the room.
I don’t usually do that.
Normally I close everything.
Even tabs I didn’t finish looking at.
Not this time.
I came back later.
The screen was off.
But not fully.
There was a faint light I can’t tell if it came from inside or outside.
I waited a few seconds before touching it.
Not out of fear.
To see if it would change on its own.
It didn’t.
Or it did.
Just not while I was looking.
I decided to repeat it.
Leave it open again.
As if it were an experiment.
Even though I didn’t write the word experiment anywhere.
It feels too heavy.
I noticed something.
When I leave something open too long, I struggle to remember if I was the one who left it open.
It’s not memory loss.
It’s something else.
As if the action doesn’t fully belong to me anymore.
I tried a simple test.
Closing and opening it several times in a row.
But at some point I lost track of the order.
I don’t know which was the last gesture.
That bothered me more than expected.
I wrote another note.
“it’s not what you leave open. it’s what stays open after you’re gone”
I read it once.
It felt normal.
I read it again.
I wasn’t sure I understood the first reading anymore.
I did something I don’t usually do.
I left the note without deleting it.
Just to see what happens.
Nothing obvious happened.
But it took me longer than usual to step away from the desk.
I looked at it again from the doorway.
The note is still there.
But now I can’t remember if I wrote it before or after deciding to leave it visible.
There’s a new detail.
When I think about “checking again”, the thought doesn’t feel fully mine.
Not imposed.
Just arriving too early.
“I have to move my neck I’m not moving it I should…”
Today it appeared while I was closing the door.
Not while I was still.
But inside the motion itself.
As if the movement carries it.
