Kill your usurpers.

Don’t get bogged down on the words like Throne and King. This is not about royalty, not literally. It is about the noble, yes, but the noble that resides in us, the purity of what makes us humain. What of this purity? This purity is the transparency between who you are deep down below the surface, and the life you lead. The mask you wear on the outside to make it all function. But you are impure until you transform. Or I should say that you are only as pure as the extent to which your life reflects, like a perfect mirror, that which your hearts calls for. That’s a noble life, the life of a true sovereign that is not diluted by the outside force of the world. It’s when you force your heart’s calling upon the external world. That is power. You begin to call the shots from the right place, from your heart. You directly force that, you shove it in the face of your world, and the world will give define you by it and be convinced of it too if it’s truly you, if they see the purity that is your heart, they will believe you, and you will have transformed. If it is true.

And of course those two parts, the inside and the external world, are directly connected in a feedback loop. We could talk about the chicken or the egg then. Which one comes first in the order of command? Who dictates the other into action? Who starts the chain reaction? And If you’re reading this you probably think that the external world dictates and the internal world abides. But this is where transformation comes in to flip things. Transformation is the process by which the enslaved mind realises it is enslaved, and rebels against the usurpers of its kingdom in a bloody fight for sovereignty. Until that revolution begins, and the present illusion of your life dies in order to make room for a new one, only then can we say that it is your heart, the inside world which starts to dictate the external world. Transformation is a revolutionary act. It is a war for the recapture of the throne and not only that, but it is a war to put yourself on that throne! It is an act of Justice, the very capture of your falling soul. And it is the selfish act of wanting to rule the kingdom, to take on that responsibility, and it feels exactly as it sounds; heavily burdensome. But that burden is a better bargain than carrying out the orders of a king who does not have your best interest at heart, or who actively wants your suffering to last in a sadistic attempt at justifying its false position in the kingdom.

To dethrone a sitting King is often an act that is preceded by shame. Shame that one had not seen it coming sooner, that one had not done it before, that one is a fool. One must accept his own foolish, clownish, childish relationship to the Crown. That we let it happen. That we stood by it, even bowed down, like all the others did, and believed that it was a righteous regime. This moment is the prelude to war, to transformation. It feels like the lights have finally been turned on in a basement we have walked in our whole life thinking we knew but now see it needs cleaning and sub-tenant eviction. How silly we were to assume, this whole time, that we were in control. And much we were swayed by the illusion of this life that we justified by the occasional pleasures that peppered its weeks. To think we knew our own basement while someone else lived in it in our stead feels shameful because it is. Do we stop there? Some will turn off the lights, and get right back to living their lives upstairs as though they knew nothing about any of it. Or do you start cleaning? It’s a revolutionary thing to do. You might need to learn to tap into that violent animalistic part of yourself in order to live. 

To revolt one must believe one has the strength to do so. The power to act, to kill. But since it’s bad to kill because our values teach us not to, that we are good if we obey the usurpers, that we are good if we remain docile and make no fuss we remain like the dogs do at the end of a long leash. And we go along with it, we fulfill our duties to the usurpers and never live as our heart cries out the answers in a suffocated voices, drowned by our tamed powers that stunted, frozen, punished godliness that is in all of us. And we punish those around us that stand up, that quit, that disappear in what our King tells us is a fallen citizen, a defector, a deserter. 

Be the fugitive by re-acquainting yourself with your hearts callings. It’s a simple sentence but a war to go through. And that’s why the system works so well at keeping usurpers in power; the cost of war feels so large, and the minor pleasures of our wasting lives feel like they are enough to justify suffocating our callings perhaps even until we die. Re-acquaint yourself and you will see that the kingdom is in complete disarray, that it infects the walls, poisons the water source, the food, and the community. It has been ruled by phantoms in your absent mindedness, it’s on you. It’s your fault yes, but it’s also fixable no hard feelings! You were operating under false pretenses, under false impressions and the usurping forces in your life must be terminated. And this could be as simple as waking up from the impressions you had about this or that; the spell of one idea, a whole ideology, a parental figure, a dogma.