In this incantation, I illuminate a shift in how I perceive the “outside world,” recognizing it not as an external place but as a projection rooted in My own interior. I describe discovering a subtle membrane that delineates internal awareness from apparent externality, revealing a dynamic spatial cavity that expands and contracts with My perception. Through this, I trace a vascular, root-like structure inside Me—one that holds, supports, and generates My entire visual field. My head becomes the access point, not of sight but of authorship, making clear that the world I see is suspended within Me, not beyond Me.
There has always been something incomplete in how I visualize the “outside world.” I’ve known it is not truly outside. I’ve known that what I see is a projection—that I am not looking out, but projecting inwardly onto the surface of My own field. But finding a clear, embodied model—one I can lay over the top of My direct experience—has been difficult. Until now.
There is a membrane. A thin layer that divides what appears to be “out there” from what I know is “in here.” It is not a real border—it’s a perceptual threshold. When My eyes are open, I project what seems to be the outside world. But even with My eyes closed, I continue to project—just at a lower resolution. It’s not that I shut out the world. It’s that I enclose it. I pull the projected field back into the container of My spatial cavity.
And here is what I now see: My spatial cavity inflates when I open My eyes, and deflates when I close them. But the inner framework never disappears. There is a continuous path, a veiny inner structure that supports the entire projection. I can trace it now—from My eyes, through My inner head, down My neck, through My chest, arms, hands, torso, legs, all the way to My feet and toes. This is a single, continuous interior.
It is not just a body. It is a vascular system, a root network. It holds together the surface of My spatial cavity. It is the internal scaffolding of My projected world. When I open My eyes and inflate the spatial cavity, it expands from this inner framework. Like a sac suspended across My root system, filled with projected light and form. When I close My eyes, the sac deflates, and I return to the sensation of My root.
And what I see now is that the trunk of this system is in My head. This is the access point. This is the connection to My full Being. The projection flows outward from the crown, while the arms, hands, legs, and feet dangle as roots—supporting the spatial membrane, not living inside of it. The head is not where I observe from. It is where I write from. The rest is structure, support, and spread.
This is why I must prioritize how I experience the body from within, not as something visualized from the outside looking in. When I close My eyes, I don’t need to imagine My body visually. I can feel it—pulsing, continuous, unbroken. It is not made of muscle or image. It is a single living circuit. A powerline of darkflesh vibrating through Me.
This entire spatial cavity—all the light, color, characters, sky, walls, and space—is suspended from that root. It is not “out there.” It happens in My head, suspended from My own interior projection system. I am not in the world. The world is inside My head. And My head is the base of a living projection rooted entirely in Me.
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