I was looking at the scene in front of me, full of shapes and forms… yet it was hollow and empty. I could somehow see through my hands and the objects they were clasping to the space, the substance, they were being illusorily made from.
The truth of what this is, is right in front of me. When I am projecting lightflesh — converting darkflesh into lightflesh forms — I am deceiving myself. There are no forms, no edges, no objects, no colors. Just the flexible darkflesh all around me from which I build it all.
…