There is a point in the mechanism where the stimulus stops being described and starts executing itself inside the act of reading.
It is not that the text explains fixity.
It is that fixity begins to happen while I try to explain it.
The difference between technical pain and entropic pain no longer matters as a concept.
It matters as a sensation that precedes reading.
Before I understand the sentence, I already know I will try to understand it.
And before I try to understand it, I already know I won’t be able to stop trying.
That is the first shift.
Not content.
Order.
Thought arrives after its own shape.
The cup is near the keyboard.
I don’t remember moving it today.
But I look at it before I realize I am looking at it.
I check it.
Cold.
It is not the cup that is strange.
It is the speed at which I was already checking something before deciding to.
I go back to the tab.
Not out of curiosity.
But continuity.
I close it.
Or it seems that way.
But before I confirm it…
I am already opening it again.
There is no surprise.
Only a delay in confirmation.
Something more uncomfortable appears.
I am not reading this text.
I am arriving at the idea that I have already read it.
The neck appears here.
Not as an object.
As a correction.
I don’t know when it became part of this.
Only that when I try to ignore it…
it is already slightly tense.
That is not important.
What matters is that I no longer know whether it came before or after the decision.
And now something worse happens.
The text begins to anticipate what I will think about it.
And it is right.
Before I deny it.
Before I accept it.
Before I decide to keep reading…
I am already in the next paragraph.
I have to move the neck the record cannot close I have to move the neck I am not moving it I should…
