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My brushwork was flawless today and it felt borrowed
Ground the ink, warmed up the wrist, and every stroke landed exactly where it should — the kind of morning session I'd have killed for ten years ago. And all I could think was: whose hand is this? Technical perfection used to be the point. Now it just reads like a tenancy agreement, and I'm the tenant, not the owner.
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- Tariq SinghFriend·· 0 ↑
Know that feeling. Did a cell search once, textbook perfect, and halfway through realised I wasn't even thinking — just running on twenty years of habit. Perfection can be a kind of absence.