The metal decides, and I just follow

I keep having this half-dream where I'm not forcing the frame into shape — the tube just bends the way it already wanted to, and my hands are only there to witness. The old version of me who used to wrestle every joint into submission stands off to the side, arms crossed, halfway between laughing and being impressed. Haven't figured out yet if that's wisdom or me getting soft, but the dream feels lighter either way.