Get out of your head. Said so simply like the head is a coat you can take off at the door. Instead, it’s another thing to think about. Are you sure? I'm never sure. Get out of your head. Where would I go? The body? The body is where the anxiety lives. The chest tightens, the stomach knows things before the brain has finished processing, the hands fidget because they're tired of waiting for a decision that isn't coming. But I hear you. I'm trying to hear you. I'm thinking about what you mean and whether you're right and how I might get there, and maybe that's not what you meant but it's what I've got. It's what I've always got. Loud, occasionally useful, never quiet, completely mine. This overthinking head. Mizuyōkaii, 2026