Heavy bass, deep drum, tense opening)
Haha… quite the show, isn’t it?
You stand before the wind and yell that you command it.
You stare in the mirror and believe you control every wave, every turn, every fate.
You dress like a master, brag of power, as if the whole universe bows to your will.
Two thousand years ago a man who owned nothing told you the truth,
yet here you stay, blind and proud, chasing gilded mirrors and borrowed shadows.
Let’s make it plain, no softening, no frills:
there is what is truly yours… and what you only think is yours.
You claim you chart your own course, choose every single detail,
that wealth, health, fame and affection lie under your lock and key.
What ridiculous arrogance! What a well‑rehearsed lie.
You think you can chain the tides, stop the rain, rewrite what is set in motion.
Epictetus carved it in stone: your kingdom exists only within.
Your judgments, your desires, your fears, how you interpret what happens around you.
There you are absolute, no one commands you, no one sets your limits,
no one can steal your reason, your resolve, your own path forward.
But everything else: your body that ages, others’ opinions, fortune that comes and goes,
status that fades, applause that dies, health that weakens…
that is not yours to rule, no matter how loud you shout, how angry you get,
no matter how hard you swim against currents that obey no man.
And there comes your frustration, your complaint, your feigned offense:
“Why me? Why isn’t it how I want it?”
As if the world exists only to satisfy your whims,
as if trying to hold water in a fist is a winning strategy
Then you pull out your favorite excuse: “They hurt me, they disrespected me, they wronged me.”
Please! What a clumsy way to hand your power over to the first stranger passing by.
An insult is just noise, empty words floating in the air,
it has no sting, no poison… unless you choose to give it meaning in your mind.
Death, pain, loss… are they evils in themselves?
No, fool, what tormen
