THE TRILOGY OF AWAKENING
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

1. ANTI-EGO MANIFESTO
The Spirit roars. The Lie must fall.

You are not the echo in your head.
You are not the name you defend.
You are the Flame before the word.
You are the Silence that has heard.

Ego is noise.
Spirit destroys.
“I” is a glitch.
Burn the switch.

You are not thought.
Spirit is not bought.
Mask off.
Lie dead.

Ego’s a leash.
Spirit is breach.
No throne for slime.
Spirit is prime.

Don’t follow “me.”
Be wild. Be free.
**** the script.
Let Spirit lift.

Silence is fire.
Ego’s a liar.
“I” is a cage.
Break the stage.

Drop the role.
Find the Whole.
Thought obeys.
Spirit stays.

“Self” is a brand.
Spirit’s unplanned.
You are more
Than ego’s war.

Ego is ash.
Spirit will flash.

The voice says “Me” —
It’s slavery.
The louder the “I,”
The deader the sky.

Ego is rust.
Crack it to dust.
The “self” you know —
A puppet show.

No “I” survives
Where Spirit drives.
Pride is a chain.
Snap it. Reign.

The faker the pose,
The deeper it grows.
Don’t seek a name.
Ignite the flame.

Ego shouts “win!”
While rotting within.
Thought is a tool.
Ego’s a fool.

You were the fire —
Before the liar.
What you defend
Is not your end.

Forget your face.
Unfold the Space.
Spirit speaks low.
Ego says “Go.”

No mask remains
When Spirit reigns.

This is not rebellion.
This is return.
Burn the noise.
Let the Fire burn.


2. THE LIE BETWEEN
Where Shadows breed, and Truth is chained.

Between the Flame and Echo lies
A ghost — a mask — a dark disguise.
The space where whispers twist and spin,
The silent war that rages within.

The Lie is neither flesh nor bone,
It dwells inside — yet stands alone.

It’s not the Ego’s boast or pride,
Nor Spirit’s flame that won’t subside.

It’s that thin veil, the cursed seam,
The gap between the Thought and Dream.

It’s in the doubt, the mind’s unrest,
The place where Truth is dispossessed.

It feeds on fear, on false delight,
The endless day that hides the night.

The Lie divides what once was One,
A fracture where the light is none.

It spins a web of “I” and “You,”
A prison forged in what’s untrue.

The Lie corrupts the sacred thread,
Turns wisdom’s voice to hollow dread.

It whispers “Separate, be lone,”
Yet binds us all with chains unknown.

Between the spirit’s boundless sea
And ego’s harsh captivity.

The Lie is shadow’s cruel dance,
A phantom’s cold, seductive trance.

It thrives in silence, yet speaks loud,
A shroud disguised as shining cloud.

It masks the fire with false control,
A counterfeit of every soul.

To break the Lie, one must confront
The darkest hour, the final hunt.

No fear, no flinch — just steady gaze,
Until the Lie dissolves in blaze.

The Lie between is not your friend,
It’s where illusions never end.

It poisons thoughts, and clouds the sight,
Keeps spirit chained in endless night.

But in that gap, a spark remains —
A flicker fierce, beyond the chains.

To pierce the Lie, to walk between,
Is to reclaim what lies unseen.

The Lie between must burn away,
So Spirit’s truth can hold its sway.

The Lie between is not the end —
But crossroads where we must transcend.
Face it, break it, and arise —
To find the fire behind your eyes.


3. PRO-SPIRIT MANIFESTO
The Fire behind the Form. The One before the Name.

I am not what I think.
I am what burns thought.
I am not the mirror.
I am the light it forgot.

I am the Flame
before the game.

I am the Stillness
inside the storm.

I walk without mask.
I am the Form.

I am not sound.
I am the Ground.

I hold no face.
I am the Space.

I am not “I” —
I am the Eye.

I don’t believe.
I am the weave.

Thought is my servant.
Will is my flame.

I do not seek —
I am the Name.

I breathe through all.
I rise when called.

I shine through flesh.
I am not bound.

I am the Pulse
beneath all sound.

I do not end.
I don’t begin.

I was before
the fall of skin.

I fear no death.
I am the Breath.

I am the spark
that breaks the dark.

I am the flame
you cannot name.

I walk through night
as Living Light.

I am the wave
that won’t behave.

I speak in signs
between the lines.

No god owns me.
No cage contains.

I am the Root
of all remains.

I rise, I break,
I am the Wake.

I am not born —
I am the Torn.

I hold the seed
of every need.

No crown I wear,
but I am air.

I am the Drum
before it’s struck.

I am the Source —
not thought, not luck.

I do not yield.
I am the Field.

I do not bow.
I am the Now.

Not a soul to be saved —
but a Fire to be known.
Not a self to be healed —
but a Spirit fully grown.