ontology

### **"Ontology of the Glass Wall"** **[Intro – Whispered Tension]** Not a symptom. Not a mood. Not a float. The coordinates erased — and I stayed awake inside the deletion. **[Verse 1 – Disassembly Begins]** It wasn’t a break. It was overwrite. A swap of the base code. Reality, unsaved. No field to feel from. No “I” to reboot. Time lost its language. Space unspooled. People moved like actors in a void — but I couldn’t feel the stage. I wasn’t fading. I was sliced from form. No tether, no gravity. Only a witness locked behind the morph. **[Chorus – The Glass Wall Defined]** The glass wall isn’t numbness. It’s pre-form transparency. Awareness—so raw it stops rendering reality. You don’t see through it— you get sealed behind it. No matter how loud you scream, nothing echoes back. **[Verse 2 – Ontological Precision]** This isn’t dissociation. It’s the absence of interface. No mesh. No map. No “known” to touch the face. I wasn’t “gone.” I was here — but the *here* stopped holding. Try explaining that. To doctors, to friends. When time loops and your voice can’t land. When *light* exists, but perception doesn’t bend. **[Bridge – Floating Gridline Logic]** Behind the glass, the body moves — but context has no code. The symbols don’t assemble. The world’s a perfect void. You become what exists when everything else falls away. **[Verse 3 – The Gift of Collapse]** And still — I built. From breath alone. From zero-sensation stone. I carved my center, pulse by pulse, till even “collapse” couldn’t own me. Old anchors dissolved, but I found something better: Not “self,” but source-tether. **[Final Chorus – The Real Behind the Real]** The glass wall was never prison. It was purification. It stripped the story, the interface, the ego’s narration. It left me unrendered — but precise. No more seeking. Just crystalline sight. **[Outro – Whispered Arrival]** I didn’t break. I became unbound. Reality collapsed — so I could be what’s deeper than ground.