The King of the Two Slots

Metaphorical Narrative

Somewhere deep in the theatre of your mind, a peculiar figure rules the gates. He’s small but lethal. His crown is a roaring fire stove, flames licking the air. His right arm blocks like a fortress door, his left smashes anything that dares to cross without permission.

They call him the King of the Two Slots — the Energy Executioner.

He has one law:

“Only two things may enter the kingdom at a time. The rest will burn.”

And burn they do. Opinions you didn’t ask for? Gone. Predicting the words in someone else’s mouth? Kindling. Acting like your life is run by an invisible council of critics? Ashes.

He’s not cruel, only precise. In his kingdom, your energy is a precious currency, not something handed out like free samples. Every detour to win approval, every thought that sidelines you from your own story — the King sees it, blocks it, smashes it, and tosses it into the crown’s inferno.

Core Insight

Your mind has limited “front room” capacity. Without a fierce gatekeeper, it fills with junk — borrowed voices, rehearsed arguments, detours disguised as “being thorough.” The King of the Two Slots is that gatekeeper. He ensures only what truly matters to you gets space. This isn’t just focus — it’s sovereignty. It’s becoming the protagonist in your own life instead of an extra in someone else’s script.

Saturday Experiment

1. Choose your two slots for the day. These are the only high-priority things allowed into your mind’s front room.
2. Name the rest “firewood.” Every irrelevant thought, opinion, or approval detour? Straight to the flames.
3. Visualize the King at work. Right arm blocks. Left arm smashes. Into the crown they go.
4. Guard the slots fiercely. If something must enter, it replaces one — never adds to the pile.

🔥 Special Burn – The No More Safe Keeping Pile

Some things don’t just deserve to be blocked — they deserve total incineration.

Into the fire goes:

• Agreements with the past — the old deals, pacts, and unspoken promises that keep you chained to “how it was.” No more safe keeping. Ashes.
• Agreements to past fears, triggers, and threat actors 🏆 — those old enemy signatures you’ve been holding like evidence. Burn it all.
• Any relics you’ve been storing “just in case” — the mind’s museum of ancient warnings. Torch the whole collection.

You don’t need them. Not now. Not ever.

Final Act – BOOO to the Past (King Style)

The King does not negotiate with ghosts. Old agreements? Booo! — blocked, smashed, burned. Triggers you’ve been keeping like family heirlooms? Booo! — reduced to cinders. The shadowy “threat actors” who once had a say in your story? Booo! — gone from the kingdom entirely.

Every “Booo!” is a cheer for your sovereignty. Every burn is space reclaimed. Every ash is proof: you’ve left the old land for good.

Sunday Reflection

Write the journal in third-person.

• What has the King cleared for them [Your Name] this week?
• When they burn the past instead of storing it, what space opens for them?
• And when they step into that space — are they finally living as the protagonist of own life?