The mind demon. It is the name I’ve given to the constant opponent. Doubt.
It is the crooked advisor to the king, the manipulator. Once our royal court lets him in it will work to give us whatever experience it needs to make us believe it.
I treat it as an entity. A character in some epic story. Spelling it out, describing it, exposing it. It makes it definite to me. I imagine its hopes and goals. What is driving it? How it feels in the late hours of the night after we’ve played our mental jujitsu. What did I do to sting it? The pride I take in knowing that it’s frustrated. That no matter what, it’s nature demands it keep trying, but to be cursed with an infinite lifetime of frustration. Like a slave using a wooden spoon to carve into a mountain. It shows it’s frustration, and…
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