6.02.25: Narrating Life

Every once in a while, I catch myself narrating my own life in my head, like I’m in a documentary. “And here he was again, opening the fridge for the fifth time, despite knowing nothing had changed.” It’s not even intentional — just this weird, observational voice that kicks in. I think it helps me detach a little. Like, if I’m watching myself, I’m not fully consumed by the chaos. It’s oddly therapeutic. Maybe it’s a side effect of writing too much. Or maybe we all do it now, quietly becoming content in our own heads. Meta-awareness or coping mechanism?