Another replaceable part in a machine that doesn’t even know your name. You wake up, you work, you obey, you fade into the background while something larger grinds forward without you. No recognition. No power. No control. Just another cog small, worn, and destined to be swapped out the moment you stop turning. You feel it, don’t you? That quiet understanding that you were meant for more than this. That the system benefits from keeping you small, convincing you that this is all you’ll ever be. They rely on your doubt. They depend on your compliance. As long as you see yourself as insignificant, you remain exactly where they want you. But here’s the truth: a cog only stays a cog if it believes that’s all it is.