Self-reflection is a beautiful thing—until it becomes a trap. Until every thought turns into a spiral, every action dissected under a microscope. Am I being real? Am I being perceived the way I intend? Is this who I truly am, or just who I think I should be?
At some point, the questions stop leading to clarity and start turning me into a case study instead of a person. I lose the freedom of simply existing because I am too busy analyzing the existence itself.
I just want to move through the world for a moment. To feel without defining, to be without explaining. To let life touch me without immediately asking why.
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