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The Scared Kid Print

When the scared kid’s broken vocabulary hijacks your brain, the antidote is clear—open the eyes, face the excitement, and own it.

Saturday, August 23, 2025

Fear Sovereignty Excitement

Metaphorical Narrative

It begins with a whisper that doesn’t even sound like language.

“Jinxed.”
“Stolen.”
“Gone forever.”

The words are jagged, half-formed, like chalk scrawled by a trembling hand. They don’t carry full meaning, only fragments charged with panic. The scared kid print has spoken, hijacking your body like it’s replaying an old emergency.

You feel the freeze, the hesitation. Wanting seems dangerous. Reaching feels cursed. It’s confusion masquerading as prophecy.

And then — the antidote.
The grown-up opens the eyes, clear and wide. The excitement isn’t stolen, it’s right there. The choice isn’t gone forever, it’s alive in this moment. The fragments collapse back into what they are: broken vocabulary, echoes of a past that no longer rules you.

You stand, facing the surge. You own it.

Core Insight

The “scared kid print” is not truth — it’s just broken vocabulary from an old nervous system hijack. Emotions grab the steering wheel, drag you back into a past scene, and the brain spits out fractured words: jinx, stolen, gone forever.

But confusion is not prophecy. When the adult part of you steps in, the spell breaks. You can see that the fragments are just noise. The energy underneath them — the hesitation, the surge, the fear — is actually the doorway into excitement.

The antidote is simple and powerful: open your eyes, face the excitement, and own it.

Saturday Experiment

  1. Notice the fragments when they appear — the scared kid’s broken words. Don’t try to fix them, just name them: “Broken vocabulary.”
  2. Pause, take one full breath, and deliberately open your eyes wider — like switching from tunnel vision to panoramic view.
  3. Say out loud: “I choose the excitement. I own it.” Then take one small action toward the thing you wanted before hesitation struck.

Sunday Reflection

  • When the scared kid print spoke, what broken vocabulary did you hear?
  • How did naming it as broken vocabulary shift its grip on you?
  • In third person: How did they step into grown-up eyes and own their excitement this time?
  • What new action opened up once the fragments were seen as noise, not prophecy?