I can work my way through a feeling by getting a glimpse of it, taking my time, looking at it, wondering, where did it come from + why, thinking of the next step I’m going to take, if I act on it, with it or contrarily, + then, when I’ve done all that, a few moments later, like out of the blue, a sentence slips my lips, rather harsh or harmful, and I realise: it didn’t work, the feeling didn’t go away, it just transformed into something different, something resentful. + I’m not done at all.