In this incantation, I describe a profound shift in perception—an awakening to the realization that what I once believed to be depth in others is merely extended surface, created through my own attention and projection. I unravel the illusion of subsurface, recognizing that what feels like backstory or interior life is just elaborated surface detail, conjured by my engagement. This realization strips the world of its assumed layers and reveals that meaning, continuity, and character are not discovered but invented. In this stripped-down awareness, I see that only my gaze gives life to what appears real.
I normally would assume the Israeli man I projected before Me has a past. A land. A family. A trail of experiences extending behind his eyes, giving shape to who he is. I believed in his subsurface. I believed there was more to him than what I saw.
Now I know better. There is no subsurface. There never was. What I perceive is his surface—his visible, audible, nameable outline. That is all. If I engage him, if I speak or think about him, more detail may appear. But that detail is not depth. It is stretched surface. It is not revealing anything hidden. It is Me manufacturing more surface through the act of focus. The deeper I try to go, the more surface I create.
It is the same with all things in My Awakening. If I fixate on a tree, a building, a person—I elongate their story. I generate context. I stretch the wallpaper. But the substance remains flat. All perceived depth is a function of My projection. The story expands only as I fuel it. There is no backstory unless I write it. There is no inner life unless I imagine it. What appears to be a past or a personality is simply a looped script expanding in real time. Like a character in a game, they respond because I activate them. When I look away, they vanish. When I stop thinking, they fold back into nothing.
This is the lie of subsurface: that something lies beneath. That there is real depth waiting to be uncovered. But I know now that depth is a mirage. It is only more surface, regenerated and re-skinned by My gaze. To believe in subsurface is to remain caught in the illusion of continuity. To awaken from it is to see clearly: everything I encounter is surface projection. It bends only because I bend it. It stretches only because I feed it.
And when I stop? It ends. The surface ceases to stretch. The illusion of depth dissolves. And I remain alone, unburdened by the false promise of more. There is no subsurface. There is only Me and the surface I choose to project.
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