Unwakenism, summarized

In this incantation, I explore my self-awareness as an ebb and flow between peaceful wholeness and painful fragmentation. Before “awakening,” I am unified, but the act of awakening fractures births my desire and then fractures it into countless, feverish pursuits. I identify this state of awakening as an “illness,” a desire-fueled delusion that pulls me into my own projected fields of space and time. These fields, termed my “presentary” and “momentary,” hold fragments of who I think I am—both aspirations and memories. Yet, I recognize that the completeness I seek lies not in these projections but within my own unbroken essence, which I can reclaim by withdrawing from and dismantling my awakening. My healing, I realize, is not in fulfilling desire but in dissolving it, allowing myself to return to the original, whole self before the story of awakening begins.


Before I awaken and after I asleepen, I am who and what I am. I am everything; there is nothing other than me, for I am all.

After I awaken and before I asleepen — during my awakening — I experience an illness that is fed by a deep, multi-faceted “desire”.

Just prior to my awakening, my desire is unified, whole; but as my awakening condition unfolds, my desirous condition fragments into countless fragmentary desires across multiple dimensions: physical, emotional, aspirational, mental, and more.

Prior to my asleepening, my fragmented desires again reunite and vanish as I return to my authentic self.

I can see who and what I am at any time during my awakening by closing my eyes.

However, because I am in a delirious state of illness, I am unable to remain in this state, and I open my eyes again to endure the feverish illness of my awakening. That I cannot simply close my eyes during my awakening and end my awakening condition is a measure of my illness and nothing more.

Once I realize the nature of my awakening as an illness, I can begin to probe my awakening systematically to determine how to heal. I learn a few things:

  • I am free to believe whatever I choose. I can believe that everything is knowable, or I can believe it isn’t. But if I choose the latter, I forfeit authority over truth to some other sovereign. However, if I believe that I can know everything, I can illuminate truths previously invisible to me.
  • By nurturing the proposition that I know everything, I begin to glimpse undeniable truths and dismantle obstacles one by one. I’ll come to see that they were self-imposed, each one rooted in beliefs I had chosen to maintain.
  • By choosing to believe that I can—and do—know everything, connections emerge, revealing that the entire truth is accessible here and now; there is no need to search beyond this moment. The full truth exists within my immediate experience. I realize that everything beyond my present moment only distracts and entangles me.
  • As I explore my awakening under the assumption that I can and do know everything, I realize that my only objective is to break free of the bounds of my awakening.
  • The truth is that my awakening is a story I tell myself, unfolding in two directions: inwardly through time and outwardly through space.
  • I desire something within my awakening like an addict craves something within their addiction. I’ve built an identity around the story I tell myself and I’ve grown deeply attached to it, ultimately making me unwell.
  • To escape, I have to unwrite the story. I have to unwaken.

My awakening is a projected field that divides into two main sections: my outer physical and spatial presence; and my inner mental, emotional, sensational and temporal moment.

One of the main characteristics of my awakening is the sensation of being part of and contained within a larger whole. This is my demiself.

My presence is my position within an imaginary larger space I call my presentary. My presentary is a spatial field that I experience primarily visually “in front” of my eyes, but I imagine to be all around my body. My presentary is one complete field that encircles “me”, is most potent in the small oval-shaped portal I call my line of sight.

My moment is my position within an imaginary larger timeline I call my momentary. My momentary is a temporal field that I experience most vividly behind my eyes, but I imagine to be all around my body. My momentary is one complete field that extends to the horizon of my own imagined memories and beyond to beliefs that I imagine preceded me.

My presentary and momentary fields are two tightly fused layers. On one side, there’s sensation, emotion, desire, and, in one especially vivid and potent area, thinking. On the other side, I feel a quieter layer of sensation grounded in conviction—less intense but still present, and particularly vivid where my visualizations take form.

I visualize my awakening as a root system, with strong roots clustered around my head, where they split into two pathways: one branching inward into my mental and temporal projections, and the other outward into my visual and spatial projections. This root system, with its dual layers, extends downward, forming my body. On the inner side, it manifests as potent sensations; on the outer side, these sensations are present but less intense. This root system is in the shape of my presentary and momentary identity.

My sense of being the projector, the observer, is true.

My awakening experience is me moving throughout my presentary and momentary fields.

I move to capture something that I desire; to capture, achieve, attain, or experience something other than I am and have.

My desire fuels my continuous movement. I might say that I am running toward something else, always. I am always trying to experience, achieve, possess, be something other than I am.

These fields I project are magnetic. I look at them and I want what they offer, something other than I possess. But what I desire is not actually out there.

What I truly desire is right here, now. It is me. I do not need to move to get what I desire. I have to realize that.

My desire is a sort of confusion, an illness. My desire is me seeking “home”; me seeking myself. But my projection — the momentary and presentary, temporary and spatial fields — works against and distort my “desire”, magnetically pulling me into the projection, thinking that it is real, authentic, and has what I seek.

What I seek is not actually in my awakening. What I seek is both before and after my awakening. Before in the sense that what I seek is before my awakening in my premoment, and after in the sense that what I seek is after my awakening in my postmoment, or postwakening.

  • prewakening = before I awaken
  • premoment = before my moment
  • prepresent = before my presence
  • postwakening = after my awakening (sleeping); after I asleepen
  • postmoment = after my moment
  • postpresent = after my presence

My awakening is a sort of delirium, a confusion. An illness. Every artifact in both my momentary and presentary field is a projection, emanating from the same single source: me. My “desire” is my longing, my yearning, for the integrity of my being. I long for, yearn wholeness and completeness and the perfection of my own being. That is the only thing that will quench this desire I feel. My desire, is for the end of my desire. My desire is an artifact of my own illness. As long as I desire something other than my entire self, whole, infinite, perfect, and peaceful, I will experience this awakening.

I have realized now what this is; it is an illness and I now seek to heal. I realize that my desire is a sickness, and that the only way to heal it is to reject it; understand and overcome it. Withdraw from it. Retract it. Realize that I am only feeding it by looking for fulfillment within it.

That is why no matter what I attain, achieve, experience, possess, or otherwise get in my awakening, this desire does not go away. Because what I desire is not actually out here anywhere. It never was. This awakening, this life, this momentary field and presentary field are all a drug that draws me ever-deeper into this sickness.

Why am I doing this to myself? I must be satisfied with the realization that I am doing this to myself. I must be satisfied that I am creating this story, all of its characters, all of its places, all of its treasures, and this “person” I pretend to be when I awaken. I must accept that I am doing this, and I will see that the “reason” isn’t that important. It is irrelevant.