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I know you.

You’re a fly on the wall of the world. You sit there in your corner looking, watching, waiting for the rest of the world to realize that you’re there.

And so you stay there, stay there, and stay there some more. And you wonder why the world won’t finally give you what you deserve.

So you make up all sorts of excuses. Must be the economy. There’s another bubble that’s sure to burst. Must be politics. We have dumb politicians at almost every helm. Must be just the way life is—harsh, unfair, unforgiving.

And yet despite all these excuses you make, you can’t seem to give up on life. Somehow, there’s this little spark of hope that’s quietly urging you to go on. Don’t give up. Do your thing anyway.

Because you never might know when the world finally gives you the recognition you deserve.

There you go again, hoping for you to finally be seen, recognized, showered with praises and accolades from people you don’t personally know. And you wonder why nobody, nothing is showing up your way?

You weren’t always like this, you know. You can go back, back, back to your younger years and you’ll find proof of your badassery, the unapologetic confidence that tragically gets sucked out from most of us when we step out into what condescending adults call the “real world.”

You’ve always known, somehow, that you were made for great things—whatever your definition of that is. That is exactly why you keep going, even though somewhere along your never-ending cycle of highs and lows, something keeps pulling you back down to the point where you’re practically asking the world to hand you the hard, stale crumbs of life.

I know you. Because just up until a moment ago, I was you. I felt you and I saw you. And I decided that I’m no longer going to be that person.

You can decide that, too. You always have a choice who you’re going to be. Whatever the world may tell you about the hopelessness of the situation, whatever you may hear about injustice and oppression and circumstances that make victims out of us, you have a choice. You can either put your energy into that or you can pull yourself up, in the process pulling everyone else that comes in contact with you.

Here’s something the world doesn’t want to hear but desperately needs to.

Life’s not about your oppressors. It’s not about your bullies. It’s not about the people who try to drag you down farther and farther until you no longer have the strength to pull yourself back up.

And it’s not even about your lovers. It’s not about your supporters. It’s not about your friends and family or your cats and dogs and fish and cacti.

It’s about you. It’s always been about you. And life, the world, the entire universes inside and outside of you all respond to who you’re being in the moment.

You can keep arguing your position, you know. And you can keep defending the feelings of victimhood, smallness, and powerlessness that you continuously refuse to acknowledge and feel. That may give you a sense of satisfaction. That may even give you a twisted sense of pride—knowing that, once again, you’ve used your intellectual abilities to prove that you’ve been harmed and the world needs to do nice things for you.

You’re not a man. You’re not straight. You’re not white. You live in some unfashionable, over-populated corner of the world that you probably won’t ever be able to escape. Life is hard for you, and you deserve a few nice things because of that.

For sure you deserve a few nice things, and so much more, but not because you’ve been played by the cruel gods.

You can keep tittering about that, you know, or you can just once and for all screw it all and decide you’re not a victim of circumstance. Yeah, sure, you’re not responsible for what others say or do, but you sure as hell are responsible for your own actions and reactions. And if your actions and reactions are all about reinforcing your victimhood, i.e. you keep declaring, “I am the victim in this. I deserve justice!” well, guess what. You get more of what you put out. Life will give you more proof that, yeah, you certainly are the victim. So here’s more and more situations that keep you stuck in victim mode.

There’s an easy way out, you know. Well, it’s not always easy, especially at first. But it’s way easier than going in circles with no end. And, please, don’t get started about how things aren’t worth it if you didn’t work hard for them. That’s all bull crap and you know in your heart that’s true.

The only reason you’re not dead yet, the only reason you still have a thin strand of hope to hold on to is this: Your inner self, your true self, you might even call it your subconscious self knows there’s a way. And it knows that way is through you.

It’s not through building new institutional systems. The greedy will find new ways to exploit these systems anyway. It’s about you. It’s about you finally recognizing that, gosh, you always had the power you thought you lost to your oppressors. It’s about you fully stepping into your true, beautiful self—the one who’s not afraid to be a little weird and a little offbeat and—oh, I don’t know—maybe even a little selfish even.

The world has got it all upside down. People think they need to change things from the outside, and then all the happy feelings on the inside will start happening. Haven’t you had enough proof yet that this way of going about life is wrong and ineffective and just straight up ignorant?

It’s the other way around. You start with yourself. Always with yourself. You don’t change the world from the outside. Change always begins with you. Change always begins by changing your thoughts, by shifting into beliefs and emotions that feel good to you, and by stepping into a new identity, one that is fully compatible with the world you want to see.

Mark my words on this. You won’t ever see the world you want to see unless you start changing yourself.

It’s all on you, baby.

It’s all on me, too.

But for the most part, it’s all on you.

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