Look at “this” – a difficult-to-describe feeling that I am currently experiencing. This particular “this” came to life because I thought that I might have done something wrong. No, “this” is not merely anxiety. Though I am anxious to know whether I actually did something wrong.
However, I can think of only two ways to reduce my anxiety.
One way is to confront the might-have-been first mistake. But this could turn out to be another mistake or, worse, I may intensify “this” in the process. I could very well be left with not only believing that I might have made a mistake but also thinking that I may have made a second mistake by trying to inquire into the actuality of the first might-have-been mistake. Sigh!
As proof: “this” agrees with my thinking on this one.
The second way, then, is to wait it out. Within the rational confines of the first way, this second way definitely seems to help me to avoid the possibility of a potential second mistake. But this second way assumes that inactivity is an essentially unproblematic course of action. Thus: if waiting it out can make the might-have-been mistake more actual, then this second way is no better than the first way.
Unsurprisingly: “this” agrees with my thinking on this one as well.
So, in essence: “this” wants me stranded in the limbo between action and inaction. Or, perhaps: “this” exists because my rationality has stranded me in the limbo.
In any case: the two, “this” and the limbo, are now happily cohabiting my tired mind – two parasites building off of one another. Bastards!
But, to be honest, the limbo is not in my head since my head is filled with endless thoughts about my might-have-been mistake. It is preoccupied with “this” too. However, as you know, these thoughts and preoccupations fall short of becoming words or actions (unless, of course, you treat my ‘choosing not to act’ as an ‘act’ in itself). So, in a pseudo-philosophical way, I am in a ‘word and action’ limbo and not in a ‘keep calm and think nothing’ limbo. Nonetheless, the thoughts tire me out and people can notice that something is troubling me.
What should “this” be called? Perhaps this is what a muted audio file feels all the time. Such a file, playing for and by itself, should be able to empathize with my being.
Maybe that’s what I should call it: to feel “this” is to feel mute.