Release your fear.
Release any and all expectations of control.
You’ll find life coursing through you like a ferocious river.
Now, I can't actually speak accurately to rivers' general proclivity for ferocity but roll with me here okay?
You'll notice that I’m quite fond of speaking for you.
Because I’m terrified you might pipe up and tell me how much you absolutely loathe me.
To tell ya the truth, I’m not sure what thoughts are really mine anymore. Everything I experience has to be filtered through the nebulous lens of "the bit".
Do I even have real opinions anymore?
Or are they simply cynical and jaded; quickly reduced to moldable putty by my snarky comments?
Does this obsession to be always on, constantly funny, render me incapable of deep thought or genuine reflection?
Am I using humor as a crutch? As a shield?
As a sort of Trojan Horse to break down the defenses of the ego by sneaking within the walls to massacre the unsuspecting citizens of the subconscious?
Do I fuck with the war?
Is my smooth brain just an amorphous collection of idiotic quotes and dated TV show references held together by a few rusty staples of poorly feigned sobriety?
Sorry for partying Officer.
I didn’t know...I couldn’t do that.
What are these things I am feeling?
Am I allowing them to penetrate through to my core?
To my true self?
Am I using self-deprecation as a coping mechanism for the world of stimuli I am awash in?
Who is this me that is speaking up and lambasting this other largely fictional me?
Is this man terracotta and emblematic of an ideal?
Is he a symbol of strength and power?
Or is he an empty vessel to be filled to the brim with my own fears, neuroses and moral failings?
If I can cleanse my soul of such detritus by gifting them to him and rid myself of attachments is that not ultimately good for my well-being?
Or have I only succeeded in allowing myself to be hoodwinked by the ego?
Ah yes the ego. Let’s roast that poor, clueless bastard.
This mythical representation of you that's not quite you.
We don’t wanna commit fully to authenticity and accidentally stumble onto the true nature of self by killing off the ego entirely now do we? 
Better to tread carefully and allow 90% of your psyche to be dissected and examined and ridiculed.
That ten percent leftover will be just for you and I.
Who is this other I if I am me?
Where is it arising from?
Who does it answer to?
What does it want from me?
Can I use it for good?
Must it be conquered then destroyed?
If so, how do I do that?
How do I know for sure that my actions aren’t being orchestrated by the ego even as I seek to stage a bloody palace coup against its rule?
How will I know when I’ve severed the last of its tenterhooks from my soul?
Can it not lead me to the mountaintop and trick me into thinking I’ve reached the summit? There I shall soak in my own misplaced sense of conquistador-esque satisfaction.
In reality, I was a day late and a dollar short.
How can I outwit that which is ever present in my mind?
How do you fool the jester?
How do you con the conman?
It’s simple. We kill the Batman.
You are attempting to defeat the master on a battlefield of his own choosing and design.
It is only natural that you will be outflanked, outmaneuvered, out-played, out-thought.
The only way to win is not to play.
You must cease the internal dialogue which feeds into the maintenance of your external narrative.
Allow no sense of persecution to enter the hallowed kingdom of your consciousness.
That is not why we returned to earth.
We are meant to break free from our egoic shells.
The ego is a bonfire. It needs oxygen and wood fed to it continuously for it to continue burning.
Starve the flames of its kindling and what happens? It dies.
So too must you starve the ego of your desires.
Do not feed the ego deceit.
It shall cocoon you in sticky webs of misconceptions, half-truths, and misgivings.
Do not feed the ego fear.
It shall gleefully poison you with paralysis.
Do not feed the ego resentment.
It shall become a cretinous consigliere; whispering vile and bitter words inside your ears to turn you green with envy.
Do not feed the ego sloth.
It shall deaden your senses and clog your mind to leave you flickering in and out of consciousness.
Do not feed the ego gluttony.
It shall delight in nothing more than turning every thought of yours away from divinity and towards dinner.
Do not feed the ego avarice.
It shall embrace your cravings for more by hollowing you out until you feel nothing but existential dissatisfaction.
Do not feed the ego lust, the core of all suffering.
It shall allow you to briefly take hold of the reins in life before suffocating you with the same leathery cords when you eventually fall unaware.
You must feed the ego nothing. Attach to nothing.
Then will you realize all that you have to cherish and love.

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