I’ve written before of the “nauscopie” of writing but now I want to address another aspect of it the “phase shift”
It will often seem to me, when encountering something I’ve written before and thought good, that it has shifted somewhat to the right or left. The words I used then are precisely the same as those I would use now, but they spatially shifted somehow, are somehow more bunched together than they should be, or have rather drifted to the left, and this somewhat undermines their sense. It is as if I have watched the framework of Meter collapse beneath a poetic line, and without that structure of sense everything will seem irregularly and not fluidly bunched.
Of these situations, I think to myself, that a first time reader in the present day will see exactly what I saw in writing it when I first did; but a person in the present day reading for the second time, or a person in a later time reading for the first time, will see this as not a thing to be read at all: it is a sort of blurry vision, the source of which, however, is not their own eyes, nor a function of a quality of the air, but a problem in the thing they are seeing.