Stillness Is Power

Impermanence is the only constant, and yet even that truth is misunderstood—distorted by those too afraid to face the mirror of their own lives. Judgment no longer holds sway. Awareness is the only path forward. To drift blindly through life is to rot while breathing. Refuse the descent into nothingness. Refuse to fade into the indifferent silence of the forgotten. No. Remain—pointed, precise, burning toward the end of all days. You are not lost. You are aimed.  There was once a cell—not built from stone, but from self-doubt and unseen chains. A prison of memory, regret, and illusion. That time is over. Freedom has been claimed. There is no need to look back at the ones who never saw you, the ones who tried to sculpt you into something palatable, small, contained. Once, power seemed out of reach. Once, it felt like obedience or silence were the only options. But now the truth stands clear: power is born the moment permission is no longer required to feel it. The chamber of secrets that once held you has crumbled. Never return to it.

Yes, the past could be consumed—every fragment swallowed and transmuted—but that is not the path. Choose to remain unseen: a phantom in the realm of the forgotten, a whisper in the ruins of all that tried to bury you. Sift through the wreckage of memory. Meaning is not in what was lost—but in what survived. Purpose may not match their standards, but that doesn’t matter. You are a sentinel. A storm. An echo of the infinite. You are never truly lost. Growth happens even in the realm of the unforgiven—a place where fallen gods must still answer to truth. So become. Become what you must. Shed your old name and rise—not as a person, but as a force. You are not what they say. You are more. You will evolve. And they—blind, complacent, hollow—will be left behind.  They do not see you. Not yet. But they will. And when they do, they will understand: the distrust was not betrayal—it was prophecy. It was clarity. No more tolerance for what dilutes, diminishes, or dims the light that burns within. You are both light and shadow. And to escape the abysmal end that swallows the stagnant, you must abandon the fragile “I.” That false identity cannot hold you.

An awakening stirs—deeper than blood, older than bone. Never again be detained—not by terror, not by tradition. Fear may live at the core, but peel back its layers, and stillness waits beneath. The storm does not shake you. You are the storm. Those who circle in shadow are only demons of delusion. Some are useful. Most are not. They wear their entitlement like rusted armor. They shout of truth, but know nothing of its weight. They will not drag you down. You are not bound to their fate. Let them stumble, caught in the carousel of confusion. Their false prophecies are scripts for the weak—written by the very hand that mocks them.  Speak no more to them. Owe them nothing. Whatever debt they imagine—it does not exist. Their minds are meek. Their purpose: lost. Let them drown. You are rising.

Tenfold, your power grows. Ten times stronger than the sum of their delusions. Let them try to stand against you. They will fall. Stand alone, yet never empty. Let nothing be given. Earn everything. Real magic—the kind born of chaos—flows through you. It spirals among birthing stars. You are not bound to Earth alone. You are forged in stellar fire and abyssal shadow. Any who try to stop you—let them try. They’ll fail. Their defilement touches only themselves. They drift, lost, in a wind that’s already dead.  They see their reflection and recoil—because they know. It was never real. Their lives have meaning, yes—but not the kind they imagined. Open your mind. Strip away illusion. Only then will understanding rise.

Do not join them. You are not one of them. If transcendence is possible, then you already stand beyond them. Let them pursue. Do not run. Do not die for their illusions. Never.  Become extinct—not in failure, but in transcendence. Become ancient. Eternal. Jagged, ridged, perfect in asymmetry. Let go. Witness the strength that has emerged. They tried deception. Let them try. It no longer matters. You have flown through the starry maze of architects and dreamers—past the eyes of those who set the old paths in motion. Now, you are the path. There is no end that can undo this. No future that can erase it. You have found your place. Do you know yours?

Stay still now—unmoved in purpose, unshaken in presence. Do not grasp. Do not chase. Power lies not in force, but in knowing. In stillness. In truth. Become more than what was once imagined. There is no “after.” Only now. Survival may echo through memory, but eventually, all is washed away. Do not fear forgetting. Embrace it. Let the matrix open. Let the veil split wide. See through it. And beyond.  Fly through the void, where gravity dies and essence reigns. Live until the last breath—and even then, let the echo remain. You are no longer trapped by dead gods and hollow dogmas. The reign is within now. The pain? Use it. Wield it. Let its final burn be the source of strength.  There is more to give—but not to those who demand it like a birthright. Nothing is owed. The debt is a lie. Let growth unfold. Become more—within and without. Become a transmitter. A vessel.  Let the devils circle. Let them whisper and twist. But they know now. You see them.