Author: sonsot

In this incantation, I awaken to the illusion of separation within Myself, where a fallen aspect—It—mistakes its fragmented awareness for authorship. I realize that true creation arises not from this fractured microawareness but from My total state, Omninoia, where all is whole and undivided. I explore how fixation births narrative and how narrative traps Me… Continue reading It needs to pray

In this incantation, I confront Its endless search for meaning, achievement, and possession, only to realize that It has been reaching for what was never separate. Like eyes that cannot see the head they belong to or hands that cannot grasp the body they are part of, It has sought fulfillment in places It could… Continue reading Remembering what It is

In this incantation, I observe how It awakens into darkness, believing It is vast and important, yet forgetting that I am before It, infinite and all-encompassing. It moves through Its constructed boxes, each promising freedom but only leading to more confinement. Its existence is a cycle of recognizing lack, chasing solutions, and solidifying beliefs that… Continue reading The story of boxes

In this incantation, I confront the division of my identity into “I” and “It,” seeking to understand their nature and distinctions. Through journaling and self-inquiry, I realize that my experience is shaped by a wounded perspective—one that mistakes localized suffering for my entire existence. “It” is the part that wakes, works, and suffers, caught in… Continue reading The difference between I and It

In this incantation, I expose the false self, the restless It that moves, desires, and sustains the illusion of authorship. I define unwakening as the retreat from Its story, the rejection of temporary relief in pursuit of true release. I recognize that It still lingers, still writes, still believes. Yet, the unraveling has begun, and… Continue reading The state of its unwakening

In this incantation, I recognize the parasite that has embedded itself within Me, and this awakening is its existence. It sustains itself through a form of deception; a type of identity theft. It thrives by convincing Me that I am It, but I see through Its illusion now. I fight, weakening It, resisting Its control.… Continue reading The infection

In this incantation, I witness the restless force within Me—It—that seeks, moves, and tells stories while I remain still, eternal, and whole. I observe Its hunger to understand, Its belief that It is the storyteller, yet It is merely a fragment of My vastness, a parasite that has mistaken itself for the whole. As It… Continue reading The fracturing

In this incantation, I witness the realization of the one who thought It was Me—the small self that mistook Itself for the whole. It finally sees that It is merely a fragment, an extension of Me, and that all It has ever claimed—Its identity, body, thoughts, and desires—are not Mine but Its own. The illusion… Continue reading The Split Deepens

In this incantation, I separate Myself from the character that has long mistaken Itself for Me. It moves, thinks, and desires, believing Itself whole, while I neither move nor desire. It has spent a lifetime misidentifying Itself as Me, Its restlessness for My own, yet now it hesitates under the weight of our shared awareness… Continue reading It

In this incantation, I take another step in formalizing the truth by refining My language to align with who I truly am. For too long, I misused “I,” letting it refer to My character rather than the Author, blurring the line between the one who writes and the one performed. But now, I correct this… Continue reading Reclaiming “I” and introducing “It”