Burn the Phantom Debt

Metaphorical Narrative

Regret arrives not as memory, but as weight. A phantom debt slips under the door: “You owe. You failed. You must repay.”

The body bends under it, even with no words to explain why. Heaviness in the gut, like carrying a bill that never clears. But the debt was never real. No creditor exists. Only a phantom script demanding obedience.

Today is burn time. The ledger itself is ash.

Core Insight

Visceral regret is not truth — it is residue. The body mistakes tension for unfinished business. But regret cannot be repaid, only released. The fire closes the account permanently.

Saturday Experiment

• Write “Phantom Debt” on a scrap of paper (or imagine it).
• Burn it, shred it, or crush it in your fist.
• Say aloud: “This debt is closed. No repayment owed.”
• Breathe out with force — like clearing smoke from the room.

Sunday Reflection

If he no longer carried phantom debts, how light would his stomach feel?
What opens up when all accounts are closed for good?
When regret burns, what new credit does he give to his present life?