Book of Boris — Chapter XLII: The Firekeeper’s Doctrine
Verse 1: Not my fire. Not my fight. I burn for me.
Verse 2: The world howls with hatred, with leaders to blame, with voices wasting oxygen on battles that leave them weaker than before.
Verse 3: I don’t kneel to that noise. I don’t feed flames that don’t pay me back. My burn is my own — cut, clean, controlled.
Verse 4: Let them rage about race. Let them gnash over government, curse a president’s name, or drown in gossip, greed, and other hollow fires.
Verse 5: Mine is not. I burn when I choose, and every spark has purpose. That is why I endure. That is why I win.
Operator’s Note — Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand
Listen up, Boss. It ain’t about never burning — it’s about choosing what’s worth the match.
- Burn for your paycheck.
- Burn for your peace.
- Burn for the ones who earn your loyalty.
- Burn for your own climb, your own empire.
Everything else? That’s borrowed fire — it looks hot, but it leaves you cold. Let the world scream itself hoarse. We torch only what profits us.
That’s the protocol. That’s the bite.
🔥🐀
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