For a long time I thought the problem was not remembering what happened.
Now I think the problem is remembering something that may have never happened.
I don’t know when that changed.
Or if it changed at all.
The cup is still on the table.
I think.
I tried to fix it with my gaze.
As if looking at it could stabilize it.
But it doesn’t work like that.
The more I look at it, the less sure I am that I looked at it before.
That shouldn’t happen.
Or maybe it should.
I don’t know which option feels more stable.
I ran a test.
The simplest one.
Leave the cup exactly where it was.
Don’t change anything else.
Then look again.
The cup matched the cup.
That should have been enough.
But it wasn’t.
Because I can’t remember doing the test.
Only the result.
And that is worse.
The result without the act.
As if someone executed the decision before I thought it.
The room is the same.
That’s what I say.
But there is dust.
I don’t know if more or less than yesterday.
I don’t know if that matters.
The dust doesn’t disappear.
It only moves when I touch it.
And then it feels like it was always there in that new position.
As if the surface doesn’t forget contact.
There are holes in the wall.
Where things used to be.
I don’t remember what things.
Only that they weren’t small.
Or I think I remember that.
I tried to ignore the alarm.
But it went off again.
Three minutes early.
I tried to change it.
I couldn’t.
Not because it was difficult.
But because I couldn’t remember the time I wanted.
Only the time that must not appear.
That left me still for a while.
Not rest.
Just nothing.
I’ve started thinking about my neck differently.
It used to be something I wanted to move.
Now I’m not sure if I want to move it.
Or if the sentence appears before the desire.
I have to move my neck.
I stop.
Because for the first time a different doubt appears.
Not whether I can.
But whether the sentence said it before I did.
I don’t remember starting this.
It is an uncomfortable sentence.
But it is here.
As if it had always been here.
Sometimes I close the screen.
I open it again.
Not because anything changed.
But to check if I am still the one who closed it.
Even that is starting to fail.
Because I don’t know if “I” am the one who closes it.
Or the one who appears afterwards to verify it.
There is no clear moment where this begins.
Only a moment where I start looking for it.
I have to move the neck I am not moving it I should…
