Chapter 2 – Breaking Free from Collective Hypnosis

The Invisible Chains

Humanity doesn’t just live in a physical world.
It evolves within a psychological, emotional, ideological matrix.

A tight web of beliefs, habits, and narratives repeated since childhood.
These structures are so deeply rooted that they seem natural.

But they are the result of careful conditioning.
The conditioning of a people to remain submissive, docile, obedient.

The illusion of freedom, when everything is already decided from above.
“From above?” — how interesting…

The Media: Instruments of Mass Conditioning

In 2020, a global operation exposed the scale of manipulation orchestrated by those who hold the levers of power.
COVID was a trial for everyone — but also a revelation.

The fear of death, a core element of our psyche, was used as leverage.
Governments, relayed by the media, broadcast anxiety-inducing messages on repeat.
We were told to obey, to conform, to accept without question.
The evening news became a daily mass, vaccination a dogma, and any dissent a form of blasphemy.

Yet from the very start, contradictory signals were visible.
Testimonies circulated, researchers questioned the numbers, doctors dared to speak.
But these voices were quickly silenced.
Banned, censored, ridiculed.

Let’s talk about social media: who really owns them?

Who are the true bosses of these platforms so controversial during the pandemic?
Who do they report to?
What financial interests are they tied to?

Ask yourself the real question:
Why were certain voices brutally banned?
Why were specific doctors, researchers, or journalists silenced, slandered, erased from the radar?
What was their message, their tone, their disturbing truth?

YouTube, at first, tried to resist.
But very quickly, the pressure became too strong.
Censorship fell, algorithms were adjusted, red lines were drawn.

Fortunately, other platforms remained.
Alternative spaces, often created by individuals without conflicts of interest, without hidden agendas.
Places still free, where cries, doubts, and calls could be heard.
Where real specialists could raise alarms.
Where courageous beings dared to show themselves, to speak, to expose themselves.
These spaces may not have had the reach of digital giants…
But they held on.
And they allowed a certain collective awareness not to sink completely into imposed amnesia.

It was not only a health crisis, but a global test of obedience.

Mainstream media are not neutral.
They belong to private groups, themselves linked to banks or industrial conglomerates.
Editors-in-chief obey an editorial line.
Journalists follow strict instructions.
And when a global crisis erupts, the orders always come from above.
But who is “above”?

The World Health Organization set the tone.
But who funds it?
Mainly states… and private foundations.
Crossed interests.
Conflicts of interest barely disguised.
When a company sells vaccines and at the same time finances the organizations that recommend them, can we still call that impartiality?

The masses, overwhelmed by fear, followed along.
Not out of stupidity, but out of exhaustion, out of a need for certainty, and yes — out of conformity.
Doubt became unbearable.
Thinking became dangerous.
And so obedience became the path of least resistance.

Take a moment to think about this:

Television networks, radio stations, newspapers…
These are not selfless institutions.
They are businesses.
And these businesses belong to individuals.
To groups.
To powers.

And these people don’t acquire media for fun.
They invest fortunes, with clear objectives.
They are levers of influence.
Tools of dissemination.
Windows, sometimes dressed up as neutrality.

Their goal? To promote their interests.
And often, their interests are not isolated: they are linked to other spheres of power — economic, political, financial.
Some belong to more discreet, even hidden, networks of influence.

Old, structured, closed groups, whose decisions can alter the course of history in just a few confidential meetings — in plush lounges or sacred basements.

Even the director of a major TV network is not free.
He does not decide alone what will be broadcast.
Editorial lines are imposed.
Narratives are coordinated.
And the closer a media outlet is to political power — especially state-owned channels — the narrower its margin of maneuver.

The orders always come from above.
But then… who is “above”?
Who dictates the line to a public broadcaster’s CEO?
Who steers global health directives?
Who stands above a head of state, if he is only a pawn in a chess game beyond him?

During the Covid crisis, for example, major decisions were made on a planetary scale — all aligned, all centralized.
The WHO issued its directives, and countries followed.
But who gives instructions to the head of the WHO?
Who can influence an international body enough to standardize the health measures of the entire planet?

In your opinion?

A handful of banks, and those who own them.

Fear, Ancestral Political Tool

Fear is the most effective tool to control a people.
It silences, it divides, it isolates.

Fear of dying, of losing, of lacking.
Fear of thinking differently.
Fear of being judged.

The media no longer inform.
They condition.
They repeat carefully crafted narratives to keep the masses in a state of chronic stress.
Every evening: images of conflicts, tragedies, disasters.
And always the same ones: Israel, Jerusalem, terrorist attacks.

Why this endless repetition? For so long…

Because an anxious people consumes.
Because a worried citizen obeys.

TV networks aren’t there to inform.
They are showcases.
They promote products, shape opinions, influence votes.

There’s a question that has haunted me for decades:

Why, since I first started watching TV — and I’m talking about a constant observation, day after day, for over fifty years — does the 8 p.m. news in France systematically show images of conflicts, attacks, or tensions in Jerusalem, Gaza, Israel?
Why, every day for half a century, the same storyline, the same drama?
Is there really nothing else worth mentioning between that country and France?
Are the only important world events happening there?
Or is there something else behind this mechanical, almost hypnotic repetition?

The only plausible answer I’ve been able to glimpse is this:

To maintain fear.

To distill, day after day, a subtle form of anxiety.
To remind us, between the lines, that the world is dangerous, unstable, threatening.

And why do this?
Because an anxious people consumes more easily.
Because a stressed individual becomes dependent — on comfort, on screens, on certainties.
Because masses held in a state of chronic tension become more docile, more obedient.

We end up being grateful for the little we have.
We settle.
We produce.
We consume.
And all this — with a smile.

It’s a subtle but frighteningly effective technique:
Manipulation through fear.
And all of it orchestrated not to inform… but to shape human beings according to a precise program.

The one they designed for us.

Maybe I have a less radical view than my father on this, because I always bring the context back to the individual.
I believe that what’s shown on screens isn’t only meant to control — it’s above all meant to capture attention. And fear is, by far, the most effective emotion for that.
It instantly triggers our nervous system, stimulates the amygdala, and short-circuits reason.
It’s a primal, archaic emotion that keeps us from looking away.

Now, in an economy where attention has become the most coveted resource, big media groups pursue only one goal: profit.
The longer we stay glued to the screen, the more we consume their content, the more ads pay off.
Fear becomes a hook, an invisible bait.

But there’s something even more insidious: fear is addictive.
Every night, as we get our “dose” of disasters and tragedies, our body releases a mix of adrenaline and cortisol.
The nervous system gets used to that hit.
The next day, unconsciously, we seek it again.
Like a soft, invisible addiction.

This cycle of feeding on fear ends up shaping our worldview.
It makes us believe danger is everywhere, that threat is constant.
And the more we live in that tension, the more we look for escapes: consuming, entertaining ourselves, numbing ourselves.
Exactly what the big corporations want from us.

So yes, there’s manipulation — but it isn’t only political or ideological, it’s first and foremost economic.

It plays on our deepest biology, on that human flaw that is fascination with danger.
It’s a powerful mechanism, but one we can disarm if we regain awareness of our responsibility: to choose what we let into our mind, and to unlearn feeding ourselves with fear.

As you’ve probably gathered from these last lines, our father always taught us to overcome our fears.
The small ones — like fear of insects or asking the waitress for salt at six years old — but also the bigger ones: fear of starting a project we care about, fear of failure, fear of others’ judgment…

Natural fears as we grow up, but ones he taught us to face.
And that’s probably one of the most beautiful things he passed on to us: learning to detach from our fears, to observe them from the outside, without letting them take control of our lives.

Fun fact:
Fear and excitement activate the same areas of the brain, like the amygdala.
They even provoke the same physical reactions: faster heartbeat, adrenaline rush, body tension.
The only difference between the two is our interpretation.
If we see a situation as a threat, we feel fear. But if we see it as a stimulating challenge, we can turn that same energy into excitement.

And that’s what our father taught us: to change our perspective, so our fears become drivers instead of brakes.

The Lie Wrapped in Advertising

Manipulation isn’t always brutal.
It slips into the details.
An empty box with polished packaging.

A catchy slogan.
An image tied to a dream.

We sell sugar and fat to kids with cartoons.
We sell freedom with cigarettes.
We sell happiness with luxury brands.
And every object becomes a promise.
But those promises are hollow.
They feed an endless quest.
An addiction.

Marketers don’t sell a product, they sell a void.
And the solution to that void.
Over and over again.

And those who run these companies, who hold the secrets of production — do they consume what they sell?
More often than not, no.
They know the toxicity.
They know exactly what they’re doing.
But the only thing that matters is that the machine keeps running.

To shatter a few more myths buried in our sleeping minds, let’s look at things from another angle.

Take BMW, for example.
I’m fairly certain the brand’s executives proudly drive the cars they produce.
And that makes sense.
They know them, appreciate them, and can buy them at good prices. It’s consistent.
It’s their pride.

But now… imagine applying the same logic to a company like Philip Morris, Camel, or Marlboro.
Do you really believe the CEOs, marketing directors, or executives of these tobacco giants smoke their own cigarettes morning and night, with enthusiasm?
Of course not.
They know exactly what’s inside.
They know the damage.
They’re not stupid.

And yet they sell them with almost militant persuasion.
Slick ads, perfect imagery, hypnotic slogans.
They sell coolness, freedom, masculinity, sensuality… through poison.
It’s clever.
And cynical.

I started smoking at 17 because of a Marlboro TV commercial — the cowboy so free and calm by his fire…

Even worse, there are professions whose very job is to make these toxic products attractive.
Designing the packaging.
Crafting the slogans.
Creating desire.
Just another profession?
Maybe…

But with what karma, in the end?

And what about the health campaigns during Covid?
We were told, advised, repeated — often with an almost religious fervor — to get vaccinated.
But let’s look at the facts: many top executives didn’t do it themselves.
Those who knew, those in the front row, often avoided playing along.
To avoid injecting into their blood these debated, controversial components — sometimes suspected of containing graphene oxide?
They’re not stupid.
They don’t put themselves at risk.

Our National Anthems

Ahhh, the songs screamed by an entire people, millions of voices happily chanting their national anthem…
Songs representing the State, a nation supposedly united by its people…
What a manipulation.
What an illusion of union!

Take the French national anthem:
The lyrics, belted out at football matches or on Bastille Day, glorify hatred of the other, war, blood spilled and flowing in the gutters of our cities.

Chorus:
“To arms, citizens!
Form your battalions!
Let’s march, let’s march!
May impure blood…
Water our fields!”

Ouch… hard to stomach in 2025, isn’t it?

Verse:
“Do you hear in the countryside
The roar of those savage soldiers?
They’re coming right into your arms
To cut the throats of your sons, your wives…”

Seriously, in 2025?
How is this still possible?
Doesn’t some council of “wise ones” ever say: “OK, let’s find another one, because we’re not in the Middle Ages anymore”?
But no.
It stays.
It still fuels fear and hatred.
It still galvanizes crowds with images of blood and war.

We’re still stuck with this?
Really?
And France is not an isolated case.

Look at the American anthem: “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
We imagine it as an ode to freedom?
Listen closely:
“And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air…”
Bombs, rockets, explosions…
A glorification of military victory, battlefields, flags flying above the corpses.

Look at Turkey, with its anthem that promises enemies they will be “buried”:
“Let the storm rage! May this storm bury you!”

And Italy?
“Fratelli d’Italia.” A beautiful anthem that speaks of thirst for combat and union under the flag, ready to shed blood to free the homeland.
Words of fire, images of death — everywhere the same refrains: “fight,” “die,” “bleed,” “take revenge.”

From Poland to South Korea, from Algeria to Russia, very few anthems sing of peace or universal brotherhood.
We comfort ourselves saying: “It’s just a symbol.”
But what does a song that calls for killing the other really symbolize?
For brandishing weapons?

Maybe one day, we’ll write a new anthem — not to divide or to hate, but to unite what’s still good within us.

Religions: Dogmas and Submission

The history of religions is complex and fascinating.
At first, they were quests for meaning.
Sincere attempts to connect humans to something greater.
But very quickly, they were hijacked.

The Church, for example, allied itself with political powers to control the masses.
Women, sages, healers were eliminated.
They even burned cats in one cursed year!
Books were banned.
Words twisted.

Religions installed rituals of submission.
Humiliating postures.
Prayers that reinforced lack rather than fullness.
And always the same idea: man is a sinner, he must repent, he is not worthy.

I don’t know about you…
But me — someone who tends to look at the world a little sideways, or maybe just a little more lucidly than others — I admit I have a weird opinion about certain postures religions impose on us.

Come on, let’s laugh a little, it does good.

Take a solemn moment in Christianity:
That instant when you kneel to receive the host, mouth open, tongue out…
Right at the level of the priest’s pelvis.
Yes, I know, not very “Catholic” to say it like that…
But honestly?
How can you not see an image just a little… off?
Or maybe I’m just being cheeky. Who knows…

Anyway, it makes me laugh — it’s so over the top.

And then people wonder about scandals, abuses, sordid stories hidden in the shadows of certain Christian religious figures…?

And Muslims?
Another ritual, another image.
Touching the ground with the forehead, several times a day, in a posture where the backside becomes the central element of the scene…
No one finds that odd?
Seriously?

No, I’m not mocking.
I’m questioning.

Because when ritual gestures become unconscious bodily submissions, it’s no surprise that deviations appear.
And when bodies are infantilized, when postures are imposed without awareness, then real, unhealthy power seeps into the cracks.
And history, sadly, has already given us too many examples.

Women, meanwhile, were kept in the shadows.
Invisible or submissive.
Unheard.
The great forgotten of religions… forever.

For millennia — and especially in the last two centuries — women have been pushed to the background in most major religions.
Not because they lacked wisdom, love, or spiritual depth, but simply because they were… women.

I think more than being sidelined, women were literally silenced.
Killed.
In the sense of being muted, but also literally killed.
Because they carried within them an instinctive connection to the divine, to the abstract, to the unknown, to the untamed — in short, to the sacred.
And that’s precisely what institutionalized religions could not tolerate: a direct link to mystery, without intermediaries, without priest, without dogma.

There’s a story I love to bring up in conversations: did you know the first woman in the Garden of Eden wasn’t Eve, but Lilith?
A free woman, confident, sensual, defiant.
She refused to lie in the dust, refused Adam’s domination, because she knew herself to be his equal.
But such a woman could never become the archetype offered to millions of others.
So Lilith was erased.
Sent to demons, painted as a witch, a succubus, the incarnation of evil.
Then came Eve: sweet, docile, loving, dependent.
The perfect model to shape generations of disciplined women.

But Lilith and Eve coexist.
One is not more real than the other.
They are the two faces of a split feminine.
And the whole history of patriarchal religion was one long effort to make us forget Lilith, to make us believe Eve was the only option.

But here’s the thing: Lilith never disappeared.
She stayed in the margins, in tales, in fears, in dreams, in desire.
She waits for us to call her back, to reintegrate her strength.

And maybe true reconciliation with the sacred lies right there: giving voice back to that wild, sensual, defiant feminine that never stopped existing despite the flames of pyres and the weight of dogmas.

The sacred patriarchy struck hard.

In Christianity, for example, women were long associated with temptation (thank you, Eve), sin, obedience.
The image of Mary, pure and silent, imposed an impossible model: to be a mother without sex, loving without demands, saintly without power.

Let’s recall: women in France got the right to vote in 1944.
But do you know when they were finally allowed to serve at the altar in the Catholic Church?
1994.
Fifty years after the right to vote.
An eternity in a long skirt.

As for women priests, they’re still not welcome.
Apparently, God speaks with a deep, exclusively male voice.

In Islam, women can pray… but behind the men.
And in some mosques, they’re literally relegated to another room, behind glass or a curtain.
They call it modesty, respect.
But in practice, it’s mostly invisibility.

The Quran, however, contains verses full of wisdom about mutual respect.
But interpretation of the texts — by men, always men — has often been biased, instrumentalized.
And so dress codes, prohibitions, behavioral norms arose that confined women to the role of guardian of the home and virtue… in silence.

In Orthodox Judaism, same story: the Torah is only read publicly by men.
Women may study… but not lead.
Not in the synagogue.
Not in the texts.
Their voice is often considered a distraction during prayer.
Ah, that feminine voice… too sensual, too dangerous.

And dad, you forgot one religion: even in Buddhism, women can’t become monks — at least not in every country.
In some traditions, full ordination simply isn’t recognized.
It’s crazy how the majority of institutional religions have always been built around men — their place, their authority.
As if spirituality were only accessible through them.
I’m not talking about faith itself, but about how religions have been designed, codified, and passed down, always by men, for men.

But let’s not be too serious.
Here’s a tasty little anecdote:

In a convent, a sister once asked her superior why God hadn’t called women among the twelve apostles.
He answered, with a slightly embarrassed smile:
“Because the last supper had to be ready on time.”
Awkward laughs.
Awkward silence.
And yet, this joke has been heard in real religious institutions.
That’s how sexism hides under the guise of innocent humor…

Today, many women remain spiritually powerful, but still in the shadows.
They heal, they teach, they pray, they guide.
But they rarely have the microphone, the stage, or the title.

The truth?

The sacred has no gender.
But religions have often had a problem with the feminine.

Fortunately, the wind is turning.
Slowly, but surely.
And it’s time feminine wisdom regains its place.
Not beside.
Not behind.
But at the very heart of the spiritual transformation that is beginning.

Today, it’s time to take back power over our faith.
To reinvent prayer.
Not as supplication, but as proclamation.
Not to ask, but to thank.
Not to beg for abundance, but to embody abundance already.

Here’s another juicy anecdote — this time about religion.

I’ve been married three times.
Yes, three.
And each marriage was a step in my awakening… or my de-hypnotizing.

The first, I was still deep inside the System.
The classic conditioning: church wedding, in front of the priest, the mass, the boring sermon.
Why?
Because it was “normal.”
Because I’d been taught since childhood that’s how it was.
So I obeyed, I went along.
Result?
It brought me nothing.
Nothing at all.

The second, I was a bit less robotic.
Consciousness was starting to crack open.
This time, just city hall.
Still to stay in line with the System, its neat files, its civil registry.
A formality.

And then, the third… by then I had started to get it.
No church, no city hall, no paperwork.
We got married outside, under the moon.
In front of the smiling, benevolent faces of the invisible Gods — the ones who ask nothing, except sincerity.

And there… yes, there, it made sense.
Everything else was useless.

Rethinking Prayer

In religious dogmas, we’re taught to pray with ready-made formulas.
Words learned by heart, often repeated mechanically, as if repetition itself had some magic power.
But what’s really behind those words?
Very often, a vibration of lack, of begging, of dependency.
How many times have we heard prayers like:

“Lord, I’m suffering, come save me…”
“My God, please help me find a job…”
“I beg you, grant me abundance…”

But what energy are we actually putting out when we pray like that?

An energy of emptiness.
Of deficiency.
Of fear.

But the universe — or what some call the quantum field — doesn’t judge.
It doesn’t filter.
It just amplifies what’s emitted.
And if your prayer vibrates with lack, then lack is what grows stronger.
If you pray while feeling poor, the universe doesn’t understand your words.
It feels your frequency.
And it amplifies that frequency.

In other words: praying in lack is reinforcing that very lack.
So what if we flipped the perspective?
What if we re-learned to pray, not to ask for what we don’t have, but to embody what we want to live?

Instead of saying:
“I pray to become rich”,

why not state with power:
“Thank you for the abundance I live every day. Thank you for everything I receive, for this energy of prosperity flowing through me. God, I love this…”

That’s no longer a request, it’s a vibrational affirmation.
No longer a complaint, but an inner proclamation.

I believe it’s essential to remember: affirming abundance in prayer won’t work if, deep down, a part of us doesn’t believe it.
We can repeat “I’m rich” a thousand times, but if some inner voice keeps whispering “I don’t deserve it,” then it’s that whisper the universe picks up.
Before affirming, we have to dive inside and ask: what part of me still doubts my worth?
What memory, what wound keeps me stuck in the belief of lack?

That’s often where it all begins: in that inner dialogue where we finally choose to face our own blocks.
Not to stay trapped in them, but to shine light on them.

Then gratitude becomes the great transformer.
Thanking for what’s already here is cultivating the energy of having, not of lacking.
Where attention goes, life grows.
When I see the beauty, even the tiniest, of what I already have, I tune myself to abundance.
When I look only at what I don’t have, I see nothing but the void.

So prayer shouldn’t be a supplication turned outward, but an inner reminder: I deserve, I receive, I already carry what I’m seeking.

Prayer is not just a mystical act.
It’s a wave emission, an electromagnetic signal.

And that signal resonates with the invisible structures of reality.
Prayer isn’t a request to some outside God, but a creative act within our inner universe.

And once again, religious dogmas eye this with suspicion.
If you don’t pray at a certain hour, in a certain posture, with certain clothes, in a certain sacred place… you’re labeled “lost.”
But who’s really lost?
The one who thinks for themselves and experiments consciously?
Or the one who blindly obeys rules frozen for millennia — sometimes absurd, often disconnected from today’s reality?

Are we supposed to believe the Source of all life is so fragile, so touchy, that it won’t listen to a prayer unless you face East or wash your hands exactly like some 2,000-year-old manual prescribes?

Are we supposed to believe universal Love would get mad because you wore cotton mixed with polyester?
Seriously?

In the end, people worship the ritual itself instead of what it’s meant to embody.
They pray to an outside God… while it all starts inside.
Those who judge and point fingers at the ones waking up — those daring to say “I create my reality” or “I feel my own truth” — aren’t living in faith. They’re living in fear of stepping out of line.
And often, the ones accusing others of being “lost” are simply those who never dared to look for themselves.

I was born in a Christian family.
Or rather… a dumb-Christian family, to be precise.
In our home, love for your neighbor, hospitality, charity… that was mostly in the books.
Not often on the plate.
And certainly not in the eyes.

My mother dragged us to church — which, by luck (or bad luck), was right next door.
Why?
Faith?
No, appearances.
You had to look good in front of the neighbors, play the role of the pious Christian between two bits of gossip in the stairwell.

One day, they even dressed me up in some beggar’s loincloth, candle in hand, in the middle of a church, for my “confirmation.”
Confirm what?
No clue.
Maybe my ability to be publicly humiliated without asking questions.

Thankfully, family was there.
Not really to pray, but to stuff their bellies for free and drink their fill at our place.
Very… divine vibes, let’s say.

At home?
My dad hit my mom, probably inspired by the Holy Spirit.
My mom cried — maybe tears of compassion.
And me, I listened from my bed, in the silent pain of a kid discovering the real face of faith… the domestic version.

Years later, I set foot in Thailand.
And boom: spiritual shock.
Buddhism.
Humility.
Smiles.
Silence.
Respect.
Simple teachings, soft, without threats of eternal flames.
A religion without yelling.
Without guilt.
Without circus.

A fresh breeze on my soul.
I won’t even get into the Quran.
Not out of disrespect, but because some of its rigid, literalist interpretations are just too obvious to ignore.
Texts followed to the letter, with no perspective, in rigid obedience — and sometimes destructive.
Especially for women.
Especially for freedom.
Especially for life.

Of course, there are amazing believers in every faith.
Pure hearts.
Elevated souls.
Bright exceptions.
To them, I say: thank you.

But between us…
Maybe it’s time to step out of the mold, no?
To ask the real question:
What if I didn’t come to Earth to obey, but to live free?

Because you can live like a slave, even with the sincerest faith.
And that would be a waste.
A huge waste.

Breaking Free from Imprisoning Beliefs

True faith doesn’t rest on old texts or imposed rituals.
It’s born from the heart.
It expresses itself freely.
It’s an intimate relationship with the unseen.
It doesn’t fear heresy, because it’s alive.

Believing isn’t about repeating.
It’s about feeling.

Refusing to blindly follow isn’t blasphemy.
It’s honoring your intelligence.
It’s stepping out of the herd, even if it costs you solitude.
It’s choosing to love freely, to think for yourself, to search for yourself.

The State, Taxes: The Illusion of Protection (Where Does the People’s Money Go?)

From our very first paycheck, a percentage gets taken away.
They tell us it’s to fund education, roads, hospitals, security.

In short: the common good.
But if you scratch the surface, what do you find?
A gigantic bureaucratic machine, complex, inefficient, where money gets lost in opaque circuits — usually far away from our real concerns.

Who Really Runs the State?

The visible faces of power are rarely the real decision-makers.
A President? A minister?
They’re pawns, interchangeable.
The ones holding the levers are elsewhere: in boardrooms, in “think tanks,” in the high financial and banking spheres.
They’re never elected.
They’re handpicked.

And at the top, it’s often the same names, the same families, the same schools.

ENA, Sciences Po, HEC (France): not schools to serve the people, but factories reproducing the system.
Closed circles run the show.

Institutionalized Corruption

Of course, we’re told about transparency, ethics, checks and balances.
But how can we believe those checks work, when the ones setting them up belong to the same network?

Just look at the financial scandals of the last decades.
Billions siphoned off.
Public contracts rigged.
Deals signed in the shadows.
And almost always: no real punishment.
At worst, a slap on the wrist.
Sometimes even a promotion… somewhere else.

Debt: An Organized Lie

Another mystery: the State is always in debt.
Despite massive taxes collected every year.
Despite growing productivity.
Why?

Because States no longer create their own money.
They borrow it from private banks.
And those banks charge interest.
It’s insanity — a financial prison by design.

A sovereign State could create its own money without interest.
But that became illegal, thanks to treaties signed without consulting the people. France, for example, lost that power in 1973.
Since then, debt keeps skyrocketing, and taxpayers’ money goes straight to pay… interest.

The People as an Adjustment Variable

Meanwhile, public services crumble.
Hospitals lack staff.
Teachers are underpaid.
Roads fall apart.
And we’re told to “tighten our belts,” “reform,” “cut spending.”
But big corporations? They get tax credits.
Some pay almost nothing.
Amazon, Total, Google… these giants have armies of tax lawyers to legally dodge the laws.

The ones carrying the system are the ones benefiting from it the least.

Old Boys’ Club Tricks

Big State projects?
Very often just disguised gifts to old friends.
A Minister of Health becoming a consultant for Big Pharma.
A former president joining a multinational board.
A prefect “sliding” into the private sector.

Nothing illegal.
But everything immoral.

When I went to business school at 19, it was kind of by default.
I didn’t really know where to go — lost, impressionable.
And I clearly remember what they told me then: “Here, you’re paying for the network.
For the contacts.
For the people who, later on, will be well placed and can open doors for you.”

In other words, you weren’t there to learn to think, to create, to serve the world.
You were buying a seat in a closed circle.
A promise of favors, connections, backdoor calls replacing actual skills.

Looking back, I find it chilling.
Because it mirrors exactly what happens at the level of the State: an elite protecting itself, reproducing itself, locking down the system.
We’re sold the dream of meritocracy, but in reality, what matters isn’t what you can do — it’s who you know.

As long as that model stays in place, the illusion of equality will just remain a nice storefront to hide little tricks between friends.

I lasted six months before deciding to go travel.

And that’s when you truly revealed yourself…
And woke up.

I saw you grow, become a teenager, get lost in different sides of yourself, pushed by friends who were also searching, go into the mold of higher studies — and I was proud because you were really good at it.

And when you told me you wanted to stop the studies where you shined, at first I didn’t understand.
But as a traveler myself, I had no objection to you heading out to discover the world.

And honestly, that’s the best advice I now give parents with teenagers looking for direction!
Let them go on an adventure… of themselves!

Because my greatest pride is what you’re becoming, my loves, since you started walking your own luminous path!

Follow the Money

Always ask the same question: “Who benefits?”.

Whenever a decision is made, whenever a law is passed, whenever a decree is signed… look at who gains from it.
The answer will often lead you back to the same circles.

Money as a Tool of Control

No secret anymore: money has become a way to control the masses.

The less you have, the more dependent you are on the system.
The less you have, the more you’re forced to follow the rules.
And the more you have, the more you can step outside them.

Popular Awakening: The Elite’s Worst Fear

What the elites fear isn’t violence.
It isn’t revolt.

It’s awakening.

When people start asking the right questions.
When citizens stop swallowing whole whatever the evening news feeds them.
When they start gathering, pooling their resources, creating their own economic models.

That’s when it gets scary.

How to Take Back Your Power

By reclaiming your purchasing power locally.
By refusing certain products, certain brands, certain banks.
By choosing barter, exchange, and short circuits.
By developing a parallel, ethical, conscious economy.
By seeking information elsewhere.
By learning to read between the lines.
By daring to ask: "What if I freed myself from all this?"

Inner Sovereignty as the Ultimate Resistance

The goal is not revolt. That’s a trap.
The goal is sovereignty.
Inner sovereignty, first.
Refusing to live in fear.
Refusing to believe that “this is just how it is.”
Refusing to submit to economic blackmail.

To be sovereign means:

Choosing what you consume.
Choosing what you support.
Choosing where you put your energy, your attention, your time.

Just reading this already makes me feel more at peace.
No need to cut off the king’s head — that would only replace him with another, stuck in the same flaws.
The real revolution is inward.
It’s not about fighting an outside enemy, but about yourself, your freedom, your inner sovereignty.

Becoming conscious of your attention and your intentions — that’s where the true power lies.
Because on the great chessboard, the pawn who knows where he stands, who knows why he moves, is no longer manipulable.

And again, it’s not about being at war with “the elite,” as my father likes to say.
It’s about choosing, every day, to take back the reins: of what I consume, what I support, where I put my energy.

It’s a silent battle, but a devastatingly powerful one: refusing enslavement by already embodying your own freedom.

Reinventing Contribution

Rather than funding an opaque system, why not contribute directly to local life, to real humanity?
Leaving a bill for the housekeeper.
Tipping a waiter generously.
Helping out a small shopkeeper.

These simple gestures give meaning back to exchange.
They restore direct justice.
They reconnect us with what matters: human beings.

I’ve never really believed in the way the State manages the money it takes from us.
Taxes, they say, are meant to fund schools, hospitals, roads, emergency services — the fabric of society.
On paper, that makes sense.
But in reality?
A whole different story.

Too often, that money ends up in absurd projects, mismanaged astronomical costs, cushy salaries for disconnected officials, or straight into military budgets.

Ah yes, the army.
Billions to perfect killing machines, to make a missile more precise, or a drone more lethal.
Is that really progress?
Investing our sweat, our energy, our contribution… into the art of killing better?

What the fuck?!

So at my scale, I chose another way of redistributing.
More direct.
More human.

Wherever I go, I always leave a bill — one that usually makes someone’s day.

In a hotel, I never leave without putting one clearly visible on the bed.
It’s not just a gesture: it’s for that invisible, silent woman cleaning dozens of rooms a day, never thanked.

In restaurants, same thing.
I think of the waitresses, their long days, their fake smiles for sometimes unbearable clients. They deserve way more than their boss pays them.
So I leave money.
And I smile inside.

Always a tip, always giving more.
For me, these gestures are political.
They’re not “just tips” — they’re acts of conscious redistribution.
Acts of trust toward the little hands, the ones we never see in political speeches but who actually keep the world running.

I prefer giving to those who work with their heart and their hands, rather than to distant structures — inefficient, sometimes corrupt, often blind to the field.

Yes, some will argue we still need to fund infrastructure, roads, schools.
But let’s be real: what’s left of those promises in a world where highways are privatized, hospitals lack beds, and schools become deserts of resources?

What I give, I want it to matter here and now, for a real person, with a name, a face, a story.
And honestly, that’s what being a citizen really is:
Not blindly following a system, but consciously choosing who we entrust our energy to.

The Energy of Money

Money is not an end in itself.
They’re just pieces of printed paper or digits on a screen. Their value doesn’t lie in the object, but in the energy they represent and in what they allow us to do.
In reality, what brings satisfaction isn’t the bill itself, but the experience or possibility it opens: eating, traveling, building a project, giving a gift.

Money as Flowing Energy

Money is, above all, energy.
Like any energy, it has to flow.
When it stagnates, it loses its force.
When we block its flow out of fear or control, it becomes a source of tension, not growth.

We all know people who are extremely tight with money.
Like, “cactus in the pocket” tight — ouch when they reach for it.
Their money stays “immobile.”
But that block doesn’t create abundance — quite the opposite.
An energy stretched too tight, like a rubber band pulled to the max, eventually snaps or produces nothing.

Giving and Receiving

Balance is found in circulation: loving to give, loving to receive.
When money is invested, shared, or used consciously, it generates movement that comes back in another form.
The more it circulates, the more opportunities it creates.

This idea is ancient, shared across many spiritual and religious traditions:

In Buddhism, it’s advised to give a part of your income (often 10%) as offering or support to the community.
In Islam, zakat — a pillar of faith — prescribes circulating wealth to support the poor. Money must not stagnate.
In Judaism, tzedakah emphasizes giving as a just, balancing act.
In Christianity, the tithe also encourages redistributing a portion of wealth.

All these traditions converge: money isn’t meant to sleep.
It’s meant to move, activate projects, support lives, keep creative energy flowing.

The “Bank Account” Illusion

Focusing only on the amount sitting in your bank account is an illusion.
This block feeds fear of lack and limits your ability to receive more.
Abundance isn’t static accumulation — it’s dynamic flow.

Whoever understands that money is energy, and that it must be used fluidly, opens the door to more harmony and prosperity in both personal and professional life.

Personal experience on this:

I sold my car to a guy a few years ago.
Being the nice guy I am (too nice sometimes), I agreed to let him pay in installments. Two years.

Four years later… still not paid in full.
He still owed me bits of payments.
Every time I asked what was going on, he hit me with the usual excuse:
“Business is tough, I’ve got no luck, give me more time…”

And me, half polite, half annoyed, I listened.
But guess what?
Of course his finances aren’t flowing.
How could they?

He struggles mentally and emotionally just to pay me back.
His energy is blocked.
His relationship to money is tight and twisted.
So tell me — how could the Universe, in all its generosity, flood him with abundance?
It doesn’t work like that.

Alright, another juicy one:

A friend of mine owns a restaurant.
Since I’ve known him, he’s never offered me anything.
Not once.

I must have eaten there fifty times, we became friends — and never a little freebie, not even a “Here bro, this pastis is on me!”
Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

But every single time, he insists I order a starter or dessert.
Even when I say I’m not hungry.
Now that’s starting to look sketchy, right?

One day he proudly tells me he loves, above all, “winning.”
Winning clients, tables, bills, big checks.

Me, personally, I think he just loves money more than anything.
He’s a hardcore miser.
A championship-level cheapskate.

But that’s not the best part.
The real kicker comes next…

He brags about having lots of money stashed in several European banks.
Millions, supposedly.
But here’s the thing: he can’t withdraw it.
The banks keep blocking his transfers with some lame excuse.
So his millions are stuck.

And now… you see where I’m going?
It’s hilarious.
And incredibly telling.

The guy is so tight with every bill in his pocket, so energetically clenched in his obsession to keep and hoard, that he’s blocked his own flow.
Result: his money, elsewhere, is blocked too.

It’s mechanical. Cosmic. Vibrational.
If he could just loosen his rubber band — stretched to the breaking point — everything would start moving again.
But of course, I can’t tell him that.
He wouldn’t get it.
And worse, it would smash right into his “miser” identity.
And that, he’s not ready to face!

Conclusion: Disobey to Live Free

Stepping out of the system begins with stepping out of hypnosis.
It’s daring to look reality in the face, without filters.
It’s becoming aware of our conditioning.
And then… choosing differently.

It doesn’t mean running off to live as a hermit, but acting with clarity.
Consuming differently.
Believing differently.
Seeking information differently.

This chapter is not meant to convince, but to awaken.
To shake.
To remind that each of us is responsible for our own consciousness.
And as long as ignorance is chosen, submission is voluntary.

The awakening is painful — but vital.
It’s the only path to inner sovereignty.

By the way…
Still watching TV?
Then it’s really time to stop!

Why keep drinking that toxic soup of fear, anxiety, and bad news — carefully orchestrated to lower you, numb you, and keep you docile?

Better to choose yourself what you want to feed your mind with, right?

YouTube, a good movie, an inspiring documentary, sports…
Even dumb videos where you laugh “hee hee, ha ha ha” are better than that constant IV drip of negativity news channels pump out day and night.

So yeah — cut off the state channels, the soulless talk shows, the robot-level stupid programs, and create a new conditioning.
But this time: a chosen one.
Yours.

Recently, I spent some time in a family where it’s customary to watch the Evening News during meals.
And I couldn’t help thinking about all those hours wasted listening to what’s “happening elsewhere,” instead of being fully present here.

The news gives the illusion of having an eye everywhere, of being part of something bigger, of keeping control because we “know.”
But in reality, what we’re consuming are empty stories — calibrated, repeated, sanitized.
Passive consumption that fills the void but doesn’t uplift the spirit.

Yet at that same table sat something infinitely more precious: the intimate stories, the deep questions, the raw emotions of those who were right there — alive, tangible.
And yet, they stayed in the shadow of media noise.

I believe that’s what awakening is: shifting attention from the screen to the human.
Choosing to feed on real exchanges rather than imposed narratives.
Daring to ask not what the “world” wants to show us, but what has true value — here and now, in the lives we can touch, love, and impact directly.

Maybe that’s the most revolutionary act: replacing passive consumption of information with conscious consumption of presence.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Take your time.

Really.

These words, these ideas, these sometimes uncomfortable truths are not meant to be consumed like spiritual fast food.
Let them sit.

Like dough rising slowly.
Like wine maturing in the silence of a cellar.

Don’t try to swallow everything at once.
This book is not a mental exercise of understanding, but a journey of inner alignment.

Give your mind the space it needs.
Give your heart the patience it deserves.
Let it be.
Let it infuse.

And if what you just read resonated — even slightly, even without words to explain…
Then you’re already on the path.

Remember:
Deep change is not forced — it is lived.
Let the soufflé fall back down.

Hydrate.
Walk.
Dream.
Sleep.
Then come back when your soul invites you.

☟