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#distortions
#(a petition for the hidden reunion of mind and body) There is a room beside the room no one speaks of.. an antechamber of nearly-remembered things, quiet as breath held in a throat that learned too young not to make a sound. Nothing begins here, yet everything gathers here before it enters memory.. a threshold where the past listens to itself again. Here, the mind and the body stand on opposite sides of the same dim light, each unsure which one is lying. The body feels what the mind denies. The mind denies what the body endured. The split was never a failure.. only survival carved into two directions. In this place, the air carries a vibration just above hearing.. the hum of something waiting to be rejoined. A petition moves through the room like a slow-forming shape:    *Let what was torn    find its way back to itself.* Not through force or through memory’s return. But through the soft recognition that the guarded mind once covered the deeper truth beneath it out of a mistaken sense of love. No accusation rises here. Only the quiet understanding that some rooms shift their shape depending on who is afraid. For there is a space before interpretation, before the story hardened, before the walls rearranged themselves around heartbreak.. a space where the original truth still waits with patient gravity. A truth the body knew first. A truth the mind hid because hiding felt safer than shattering. The petition whispers:    *Let the two parts    move toward each other    in their own time,    in their own darkness,    carrying nothing    but the Light    that survived them both.* No reunion is forced. Nor a return, assumed. Only this: A faint light slipping through a seam in the dark.. not bright,  or demanding, but enough to suggest that what waits beyond the door is not ending, ..but the first, tremulous beginning of finally seeing what was always true. #
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Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 7:09 AM UTC
The Antechamber
#(a petition for the hidden reunion of mind and body) There is a room beside the room no one speaks of.. an antechamber of nearly-remembered things, quiet as breath held in a throat that learned too young not to make a sound. Nothing begins here, yet everything gathers here before it enters memory.. a threshold where the past listens to itself again. Here, the mind and the body stand on opposite sides of the same dim light, each unsure which one is lying. The body feels what the mind denies. The mind denies what the body endured. The split was never a failure.. only survival carved into two directions. In this place, the air carries a vibration just above hearing.. the hum of something waiting to be rejoined. A petition moves through the room like a slow-forming shape:    *Let what was torn    find its way back to itself.* Not through force or through memory’s return. But through the soft recognition that the guarded mind once covered the deeper truth beneath it out of a mistaken sense of love. No accusation rises here. Only the quiet understanding that some rooms shift their shape depending on who is afraid. For there is a space before interpretation, before the story hardened, before the walls rearranged themselves around heartbreak.. a space where the original truth still waits with patient gravity. A truth the body knew first. A truth the mind hid because hiding felt safer than shattering. The petition whispers:    *Let the two parts    move toward each other    in their own time,    in their own darkness,    carrying nothing    but the Light    that survived them both.* No reunion is forced. Nor a return, assumed. Only this: A faint light slipping through a seam in the dark.. not bright,  or demanding, but enough to suggest that what waits beyond the door is not ending, ..but the first, tremulous beginning of finally seeing what was always true. #
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The whole of the universe is like a pattern of infinite proportions in the mind of the Eternal Creator Who is without any distortions. ___________________________
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Jun 10, 2020
Jun 10, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
Simple Observation #338 - The whole of the universe is like.....
all day on the brink saline hinging on lashes reading minds far away fortune-telling actions and overgeneralizing filtering the nonsense to make room for the nonsensical minimizing positivity maximizing black and white negatives focusing on despair internal anguish; vicious cycle of irrationality automatically a day in the life inside of me
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
cognitive distortions