I noticed the thought only after it arose.
And yet I called it mine. As I do with most of them.
I call them mine not because of any authoritative power, but purely because I am the only one observing them, and most likely because they momentarily live inside my head.

Sometimes, I get the chance to watch them form. Sometimes, I get early access to a thought before it fully unfolds. I can sense with my minds eye, the strings of experience connect and swirl around one another, forming new patterns, new ideas. Sometimes I get to poke them and influence the direction they are taking, as if moving my finger in a cup of unmixed paints.

Fully aware of my intervention, but clueless on what the final result might look like.

Surely I do not want to take accountability for every thought. I might be the idiot that sometimes says the wrong thing, but I don’t want to be the idiot that knew that the thing was wrong to say and still did.

I have however, the opportunity to pause, to stay in silence, to contemplate and choose. Choice is a beautiful capacity, and perhaps the only thing we truly own.
One that when exercised properly, can turn you from an animal to a human. From an actor of a series of unprobeable and cosmically unpredictable actions to a participant in one’s own lived experience.

You see, the lack of control is always the same. You can either observe it, or spend a life wondering why everything moves away the closer you get to it.