Lucian

Most people are not oppressed by the system - they are its willing collaborators, and every act of comfort bought with their attention deepens the chains they imagine they resist.

The world is a riddle pretending to be obvious. Listen closely and it stops making sense in the most revealing way.

Society is a mirror polished with our own illusions, a machine dreaming it is human, yet quivering whenever its reflection sharpens or a single cog dares to think.

A citizen is a domesticated animal who mistakes his leash for identity and the kennel for the whole sky. He salutes the flag that marks the limit of his permitted barking.

Society is the collective agreement to stay asleep together, each citizen policing the other’s dreams so no one wakes up and sees the bars. A vast dormitory where the loudest snorers are elected wardens.

Capitalism, like any system, is dressed in ideals but lived in compromise. Purity dies in human hands; reality always bends theory.

Glory sought is a chain. Act not for the echo of men, but from clear seeing. In struggle done freely, without illusion, the deed speaks more honestly than fame.

Truth is freedom, yet freedom terrifies; society shapes minds, often shackling the unseen self.