Are you looking for pieces of yourself in the external?
Like you need to drown in the literature to know that you exist.
As if you can't feel the proof of it every time you breathe.
Sometimes I get so caught up in wondering what knowledge I'll find in books, and people, and art, and the world that I forget about the wisdom I can find within myself.
Sometimes I forget that several generations of lived experience already exist inside my DNA, and if I just sit down long enough to listen that shit will fucking speak to me.
Sometimes even when I do remember, I keep looking outward anyway.
"Baby girl, are we avoiding something?"
Sometimes I'm not so sure.
People call it "overthinking".
I think it's just under-listening.
I know because whenever I slow down enough to:
The answers we need tend to be inside of us, waiting for us to take notice.