The Ego Chainsaw Massacre: Your Step-by-Step Guide to Self-Demolition
The Mirror That Burns
Your ego isn't some spiritual concept floating in mystical space.
It's the suit of armor you've welded to your skin. You think it protects you, but it's crushing you to death.
The ego isn't something you can meditate away or love into submission. You need power tools for this job. Look in the mirror. That reflection you see? That's not you - that's the kill zone. Everything you think you are, everything you believe about yourself, every story you tell about your life - those are the targets.
The ego isn't hiding in some cosmic cave waiting to be discovered through drumming circles and yoga retreats. It's right there, staring back at you…
…wearing your face.
The Weapon of Choice
You want to know the truth? Writing is your chainsaw.
Not the fancy literary kind where you compose poems about your feelings.
I mean the raw, bleeding-edge kind where you capture every thought that claims to be "you" and dissect it under stadium lights. Your journal isn't a diary - it's an autopsy report. Every page should be covered in the gore of demolished beliefs.
"I am a good person." Really? Prove it.
"I want to help others." Why?
"I am on a spiritual journey." Are you?
Or are you just collecting better-sounding lies?
The Daily Slaughter
This isn't a weekend workshop.
This is your new full-time job. Every morning, you wake up and go hunting.
Your prey? Every single thought that starts with "I." Track them down. Corner them. Make them prove their existence or die trying. That resistance you feel? That voice saying "this is too extreme" or "there must be a gentler way"? – that's not wisdom; it’s your ego trying to survive.
It will use every trick, every spiritual teaching, every psychological concept to stay alive. Your job is to see through each disguise…
…and keep swinging.
The Empty Theater
Here's what no one tells you: This process never ends.
You don't graduate. You don't get a certificate. You don't become a better person.
The ego doesn't die because it was never alive. What dies is your investment in the story. You're not going to find yourself. You're going to lose yourself. Every single piece. And in that loss, in that total bankruptcy of self, something else becomes clear - something that can't be put into words because words are just more ego food.
Want to start? Pick up a pen. Write down who you think you are. Then prove it's true. I'll wait here in the empty theater…
…watching you try to find an actor after the play has ended.