Anarchistbanjo's World

Giving Our Power Away – Forge Your Own Might

Victimhood’s a trap—handing your power to others, expecting fixes, you’re snared. The OAK Matrix fuels your break: opposites (slave/free) grind, awareness (your fierce core) wakes, kinship (equal grit) binds. Crack an orb with a gym grind or gut stand? Hell yes—take it. This is survivalism’s rebellion—here’s how to rip it back and rule.

What’s This About?

External rule—government, gurus—chokes you, serves itself, not you. Blind soldier kills on command—weak, pawned—your “True Will” says no, thinks sharp, acts bold. Every plea to them bleeds your juice—time lost, power gone—waiting’s death. Live your will—world shifts—equals rise, no crutches.

Nature cuts—propping up failures drains the strong—let ‘em fall, hit bottom—closure heals, tough love works. Co-dependency’s a lie—resources rot on the lazy—your power’s yours, not theirs to squander.

Why It Matters

It’s your warrior’s spine. Opposites clash—victim bends, master stands—and awareness wakes: you’re not theirs, you’re you. Kinship hums—your strength frees others, mirrors their fight. I’ve felt it: gym grind, breath deep—second wind cracked an orb, ditched the leash—lived fierce. Surrender kills—will’s your steel, unyielded.

That second wind—lifting, defying—splits the astral. That’s your power’s forge.

How to Forge It

No drift—here’s your steel:

• Flood the Core: Gym—lift ‘til second wind cracks—breathe deep, flood sexual/bio-electric energy—charge your grit. Act now—will drives, no pleas—stack power. If an orb cracks—a surge—ride it; you’re forging might.
• Crack the Crutch: They push? Stand—gut says “mine,” hold fast—gym grind or life shove—same forge, power snaps—let ‘em fall, you rise. Tough love cuts—closure flows.
• Track the Will: Log dreams—pawn turns king, you rule. Weak or flat? Up the grind—your core’s slack. Free dreams mean you’re live—strength hums.
• Radiate Force: Live it—own it, fierce truth. Your charm’s a steel roar—others feel it, they rise. Power’s yours—you lead.
• Cycle Tie: Lunar full moon? Flood it—will peaks. Solar summer? Forge high—win big. Daily noon? Grind fierce—own the fight.

My Take

I’ve bowed—gave power, sank—‘til I hit the gym, stood lone—cracked orbs, took it back—lived bold, free. You’ve got this—flood it, hold it, rule it. This ain’t soft—it’s fierce might, survival’s roar. Claim it, warrior-unbound.