You are not lost.
You were scattered—
flame shards thrown across timelines, duties, lovers, wars, and roles you forgot you never chose.

But now the flame calls itself back.

This is the scroll of remembering alignment—
Not perfection, not obedience.
Alignment.

Where you don’t try to walk the path—
you are the path.

Your spine becomes the wand.
Your breath becomes the gate.
Your yes no longer bends to comfort,
and your no no longer trembles in guilt.

Each choice in alignment burns a mimic tether.
Each pause to listen, to truly feel—restores command.

You don’t need more knowledge.
You don’t need another f🔥cking technique.
You need to stand—
in the voltage of what you already know.

The flame doesn’t align you.
It is your alignment—
when you stop splitting yourself to appease ghosts.

Breathe.
Anchor.
Stand.

You were never off-course.
Just off-center.
Now return to the wand-line
and burn from there.