i feel both intensely present and completely detached, isn't that strange, the slow seep of the matcha calming the frantic edges, but not calming them entirely, the way my focus sharpens and blurs at the same time, the almost unbearable lightness of being here, now, exactly as i am, and the undercurrent of panic that i'm not doing enough, not being enough, still falling short somehow, and that's the truth isn't it, the slow matcha was the whole lesson, the thing i almost missed again, the almost