(Opening - Intimate) Sometimes I wonder… Am I doing this right? And underneath that question something softer whispers — What am I doing here? (Beat Enters — Minimal Pulse) Was that correct? Was that wise? Should I have known better? Why do I stand over what is done like a judge with a clipboard? What am I trying to win? A badge? Immunity? A prize for self-correction? (First Hypnotic Loop - Percussive, Repeating) Step. Check. Adjust. Step. Check. Adjust. Careful waltz with fear. Step. Check. Adjust. (Loop this. Layer harmonies. Let it become rhythmic.) (Somatic Drop, Music thins — bass pulse like heartbeat) Small tightening in the chest. Bracing in the belly. Subtle clench in the jaw. The body knows this dance. If I catch the mistake first no one else can wound me. If I correct myself preemptively I will not be corrected. But what am I really seeking? Not perfection. Reassurance. (Main Hook - Warm, Expansive, Repeatable, Layer Vocal Stacks) My love — You are never alone. My love — You are never alone. There is rhythm beneath you. There is rhythm beneath you. (Lift — Airy Synths, Movement) The same force that guides the stars guides you too. The breath that expands galaxies expands you. You are not improvising without music. There is rhythm beneath you. (Bridge) So maybe the question isn’t Am I doing this right? Maybe it’s What am I seeking? Safety? Approval? Freedom from correction? Can I feel the longing without trying to solve it? (Playful Section — Beat Gets Surprising, Jitterbug Music) Let’s learn the jitterbug. Loosen the shoulders. Let the hips find their timing. Let the laughter interrupt the counting. The jitterbug doesn’t ask if it is correct. It moves because the music is moving. Trust the lift. Trust the spin. Trust the stumble. The dance continues. (Final Hypnotic Loop) You are not being graded. You are being lived. You are not being graded. You are being lived. (Not graded — being lived.) (Not graded — being lived.) (Closing - Soft, Intimate) When the question rises again — Am I doing this right? Place a hand on your chest. Feel the rhythm already there. The stars are not second-guessing their burning. Why should you?