They take, they drain, they consume, and then they dare to demand loyalty. They strut around like kings of an empire they didn’t build, like gods over lives they have no right to touch. They call themselves leaders, but they’re nothing more than well-dressed leeches, clinging to the blood of the real creators, the real visionaries, the real souls who dare to live beyond the limits of their pathetic, transactional existence.

They don’t innovate; they steal. They don’t create; they co-opt. And when the well runs dry, when they’ve taken everything from the ones who actually breathe life into this world, they discard them like spent husks—ghosts left to wander the ruins of what was once theirs. Then, with the audacity of the truly soulless, they rewrite history, calling themselves the saviors, the righteous, the architects of progress. But they know. Deep down in whatever hollow cavity passes for a soul, they know.

And women? To them, women are nothing but vessels, assigned roles, stamped with expiration dates. Good enough to birth their offspring but never good enough to be seen as equals. Smart enough to be used but never smart enough to be respected. They throw them into a loop of control, stripping them down, making them doubt, making them small—then, when she resists, when she fights for her own agency, they turn on her like rabid dogs. Now she’s a problem. Now she’s an enemy. Now she’s a whore, a traitor, a waste.

Yet somehow, she’s still expected to love them. To nurture them. To stand by while they laugh at her, diminish her, reduce her to something disposable. And when she walks away? When she refuses to play along? The fragile little egos crack wide open, spewing hatred, fear, rage. Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? Without control, without ownership, they are nothing. Just empty, scared little boys in the rotting husk of a failing kingdom, trying to buy submission with money, fear, and force.

And it never works. Because once you’ve seen what freedom looks like—real freedom, real choice, real autonomy—Fakefuckistan and its desperate little dictators will never hold you again. They can throw money, throw threats, throw the full weight of their decayed system at you, but it won’t matter. Because nothing they build, nothing they stand for, nothing they pretend to be is worth selling your soul for.

Let them rot in their kingdom of lies.