The Contract Expires at Noon

Metaphorical Narrative

Midday hunger rises, and with it, a voice:
“You’re still not enough.”
It feels recycled, word for word, from the day before.
But contracts expire. This noon is untouched.

Core Insight

The critic’s voice is schema recycling.

Tag Rule forbids renewal: 24h no meaning, 30d expiry.

The mantra “this day has never been lived before” severs the echo.
Neurobiologically, reconsolidation hygiene dissolves the critic’s grip.

Saturday Experiment

When the critic speaks at lunch, reply silently:
“Contract expired. This noon is new.”
Return to the meal.

Sunday Reflection

How did the person prove the critic’s voice expired?
What presence evidence replaced the old contract?