Every second of my time - one of a kind. Every second of my life - beginner’s mind. I feel like I am constantly unlearning whatever tf I’m doing here and I get so tired of pretending that everywhere I look there ain’t a blind spot. Oh yes, there is: a persistent dead angle disturbing a full horizon, sucking the light out of a clear day. At this point, I am wondering whether this is real or metaphoric.

 
G-d, I’m feeling so euphoric, you know, like that one time I met Molly. Oh dear, haven’t you heard? The world is poly. Drop the monotonous monochromatic monologue.

 
There it is again, the blurry spot in my vision and weirdly it always seems to be looking back, staring at me, taking notes. My own personal judge, for my every move. The trial starts and ends at its own will and pace - the system does not work. Not as you would expect, not as I wish it would.

Do you see it? The paradox of some kind of conditional freedom? Seriously, if you were really free, where would you be?

 
HR spikes up to two twenty - damn, this anxiety is tantric, the motion is frantic. Incoherence is flowing in my body, eventually leading me to all the irrational, illogical, emotional decisions. There is no longer cause-effect, reason is an illusion. There are inexplicable things, please don’t even bother trying.

 
Another second is past, and you know what?

 
Nothing is ahead us nor behind.

Beginner’s mind.