Self Analysis
This is about the times of regret, nothing major. Just the ability to freeze progress by sticking in your own head. This might not be how I interact with the world currently, but it wasn’t a stretch to remember how it felt.
People pretend analyzing oneself is some kind of virtue. They extol its merits as if it’s something you should strive to be able to do. I find it’s like most things, hypothetically desired until reality arrives and it’s all you can do. Until you’re picking apart wounds. I would’ve said old, but you never seem to heal them enough to distinguish them from new.
Then the thoughts can creep and morph and insist upon each other. Taking shape in the form of what is just a little bit rougher than you should think about yourself. Frozen in little momentary regrets, micro follies, which eat at success. Lack of confidence and increased stress. All because of a fumbled greeting or a tense meeting, or better yet…
Was it tense? The moment was fleeting and the other party never said anything. The awkwardness was deafening, why did I make that joke about floor seating? Was it just to break the tension? Silence has been an acquaintance of mine, I stumble for others’ convenience.
It can be a little much, stuck in your head. Constantly reviewing your work, rereading what was already read. The way to highlight passages of time is to retread moments over and over again. Wearing out the path or life’s journey. Never catching what’s up ahead. Steady looking back, trying to make up for what was just said.
