“The value of a man is determined not by his compliance,
but by the number of truths he can endure.”
- Nietzsche
Most people will live and die without ever asking themselves the only question that matters:
Am I the one who moves the pieces — or am I just a piece being moved?
The tragedy is that most start from the second position and never even realise it. They live as if their value is conferred upon them by someone else. Parents, lovers, bosses, friends, priests — all lined up like judges, handing out little slips of paper that read: Yes, you count.
Remove the witnesses and the world they’ve built collapses. Alone on an island, they wouldn’t know if they had worth.
And so they cling. They cling to their labels, to their medals, to the applause and approval of “the other.” They build their lives around proving — to anyone watching — that they are good, or brave, or important. The act becomes the life.
The Prison of Worthlessness
Worthlessness is not the same as failure. Failure can teach you something. Worthlessness is the conviction that you are the failure. That no action, no achievement, no praise can scrub away the rot at your core.
Once that belief settles in, you become its most loyal servant. You demand to be treated in ways that confirm it. You start living as proof of your own indictment. And here’s the paradox: you’ll also demand unconditional acceptance. You won’t ask — you’ll demand. And when it doesn’t come, you’ll break down or lash out.
No one starts life saying I am worthless. At the beginning there’s only pain, raw and wordless. Only after enough of it piles up does the mind give it a name and turn it into an identity. And because you learned the word from someone — directly or indirectly — you inherit not just the label but the perspective of the labeler.
There’s no biological truth to worthlessness. It’s not in your blood or your brain. It’s a story — someone else’s story — that you accepted as your own.
And like any story, it can be rewritten. But no one will rewrite it for you.
The Mechanics of Taking Over
If where you stand now doesn’t give you power, leave. Take what you can carry. Burn the rest. Movement solves more problems than thinking ever will.
Every obstacle has a weak point. Every person has a pressure point. There are only three kinds of people in your way:
The Skeptics — they hesitate, they doubt, they stall.
The Reactors — they sense your intent and resist without thinking.
The Reluctant — welded to their cage, committed to inertia.
Institutions may look solid, but they’re riddled with decay. They are easy prey for anyone who knows how to manipulate the social web inside them. The game is not to be the best at your job. The game is to be accepted by the right circle.
Map the power structure. Find the core — the people who run it — and the periphery — the ones who orbit but never touch power. Learn the language of the core and mimic it until it becomes second nature. Words are the first password. Once you speak like them, you’re in.
When you meet resistance, sidestep it. Paint a vision of a future they can only reach by doing what you want. Start small. Get them to say yes to anything. Better yet, give them something first — a gift creates an invisible thread you can pull later.
And when you make your ask, use the word because. The reason doesn’t matter — the word does.
This is not theory. It’s not “get ahead in business” advice. It’s the operating system of human power. And the moment you start using it, you step out of the role of pawn and into the role of player.
The Illusion of Fulfillment
Ask most people what will make them fulfilled and you’ll get the same three categories:
Money and the power to move it.
Friends, family, and status.
God, love, and spiritual quests.
Rarely will anyone say, I am fulfillment.
We’ve been trained to outsource value to the outside world. We are worth something because someone else says so, because our names appear in the right place, because our work serves a purpose they approve of. Without “the other,” most people wouldn’t know who they are.
And so they posture, like prison guards proud of keeping the dangerous ones locked away. They brag about their struggles more than they ever enjoy the prize. They take risks for fictitious payoffs, because anything is better than boredom. Even pain.
A few are born with health and vitality, and they are naturally cheerful. The rest work at it, or hope for it, and keep the whole machine turning. They live in the realm of almost: almost happy, almost free, almost alive. Always chasing the carrot, rarely tasting it.
Pleasure always carries a price, and the greater the pleasure, the greater the pain that follows. Most can’t accept this, so they keep running the cycle — convinced that next time will be different.
The truth is that in the pursuit of fulfillment, you will almost always find something else entirely. The skill worth learning is to recognise what you did find and decide if you can make use of it.
Even if, like most vacationers, you come back sick, exhausted, and clutching the proof that you were away.
The Choice
Worthlessness is a story. Fulfillment is a moving target. Power is a game played by those who know the rules and aren’t afraid to use them.
The choice is simple:
Continue performing in someone else’s script — or take control of the stage.
It will not be easy.
It will be dangerous.
It will also be the first real thing you’ve ever done.
Appendix — Field Notes on Worth, Power, and Fulfillment
1. On Worthlessness
Conceptual, not biological — There is no “worthlessness gene.” It’s a learned mental construct.
Origins — Often implanted in early life through direct labeling (“You’re useless”) or indirect conditioning (neglect, withdrawal of affection).
Mechanism — Functions as a self-reinforcing loop. Behaviours are chosen — consciously or not — to confirm the belief.
Escape — Requires breaking the loop, not by chasing external validation, but by dismantling the story’s authority.
2. On Power and Manipulation
Institutions are soft targets — Not because they’re weak, but because they are predictable. Power inside them is built on perception, not competence.
Core/Periphery Model — The core controls decisions; the periphery maintains the illusion of stability. Learn the core’s language, mimic it, and you bypass years of “earning” your place.
Influence Sequence:
Create rapport (shared language, shared frame).
Offer a small gift or favour.
Gain a first “yes” to something low-stakes.
Make the real request — structured to appear as the other person’s choice.
Psychological Keys — Words like because trigger compliance; gifts create obligation; vague praise binds identity to your frame.
3. On Fulfillment and Its Illusions
Three Common Targets — Money/power, relationships/status, spiritual transcendence. These categories overlap, but all are external.
The “Almost” Life — Most people live here. They are almost happy, almost satisfied, almost alive — and mistake the chase for the prize.
The Pain-Pleasure Ratio — Great pleasures often carry greater pains. Most will take the risk anyway to avoid boredom.
The Skill to Learn — In pursuit of a goal, you’ll often find something unexpected. Adaptation is more valuable than attainment.
4. Practical Exercises
(These are not “steps” — they are experiments. Run them and observe the results.)
Language Theft — Spend a week studying how decision-makers in your target network speak. Copy their phrasing exactly in your conversations.
The Gift Hook — Give something unasked for, casually, with no strings — then wait before making a request.
The Yes Ladder — Structure interactions to get at least two minor agreements before introducing your real ask.
The Island Test — Imagine yourself completely alone, stripped of witnesses. Without an audience, what remains of your “value”?
5. Recommended Readings
Christopher S. Hyatt — The Psychopath’s Bible, Undoing Yourself
Robert Greene — The 48 Laws of Power, The Art of Seduction
Eric Berne — Games People Play
Nietzsche — Beyond Good and Evil, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
Machiavelli — The Prince
6. Closing Note
The point of this essay is not to moralise. It is not about becoming “good” or “bad.” It is about stepping into authorship of your own script. Most will reject this because it’s easier to remain a character in someone else’s story.
But for those who choose otherwise — the game begins the moment you stop waiting for permission.
The Forbidden Tongue
Language is not a neutral medium. It is a force-field. A tool of control. A site of revolt. A nervous-system-altering technology of perception, meaning, and power. We are taught to treat it as a mirror of thought, a channel for information—but this is a comforting illusion. Language is spellwork. And the words we are told not to say are often the most p…
Other good examples might be The Great Gatsby, Macbeth, Breaking Bad, There Will Be Blood, Rocky, and (yes) Billions