"Cut the Strings of the Mind—Reclaim the Throne of Control"

 Consider this, old friend.

You have been pulled by a noose for countless ages—dragged through lives by a master that was never meant to lead. 

The mind, your servant, has worn the crown and claimed the throne.

But the time has come. Take hold of the reins—or be carried into storms not your choosing.

You are not the puppet dangling on unseen strings. You are the hand that holds them—the silent puppeteer, the one behind the dance.

 Yet for too long, illusion has ruled: shadows masquerading as substance, thoughts parading as truth. And under this tyranny, humanity has drowned in sorrow, tossed like driftwood on the dark tides of fear.

But hear this—you are not the wave that crashes, nor the storm that rages. You are the unmoving shore, the still witness, the calm eye of the cyclone.

The thinker is not your essence. The witness—the one who simply sees—is your eternal center.

How can one stay awake while the mind spins its glittering spells? Through vigilance, presence, and the steady flame of meditation, which polishes the mirror of awareness until it shines.

Each time you drift, return. Catch yourself in the very act. Sit once more in the throne of the watcher. See how the masks of the false self fall away—delicate as morning dew vanishing beneath the sun’s first breath.

And when you awaken to the truth—that the mind is but a shadow, a phantom actor without substance—your true nature bursts forth, radiant and unhidden.

For when awareness looks with unclouded eyes, illusion cannot endure.

And in that unyielding light, you are revealed—sovereign, luminous, forever free.

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