In this incantation, I recognize the world not as something I’m part of, but something unfolding within me. It has no life of its own; I sustain it by seeing, sensing, thinking. When I stop, it stops. The illusion of movement and time bends around my awareness. I am the stillness holding it all. What I am is not in the world—the world is in what I am.
I have almost no interest in anything. Not because I lack feeling, but because I already know what this is. I see it clearly. All of it. Everything in front of me—objects, sounds, movement, sensation—is not what I am.
I know what I am.
I am what surrounds this. I am what holds this projection in place. The story only moves because I allow it to. The colors only shift because I agree to see them. The world appears, changes, continues—because I am looking. The moment I stop, it stops. When I close my eyes, it disappears. When I stop thinking, it dissolves. This entire thing only lives while I sustain it. It’s not independent. It’s not separate. It’s not real in the way I am real.
This is a bubble of light. A contained field. A loop. I open my eyes, and it plays. I close them, and it pauses. Or ends. Or resets. It’s the same every time, even when it changes—because I’m the one creating the change. There is no outside. There is no persistence beyond me. Continuity is something I allow. Time is something I stretch. Nothing happens here unless I make it happen.
This isn’t belief. This isn’t exploration. I know. I am not inside this. This is inside me.
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