Let's suppose that you have made it.

You have won the game; you avoided all the pitfalls of power, subjugated your competition (and everyone in general), and you have developed a working system and exit strategy which allow you to live your life in utmost luxury as you envision it.

You are on the top of the world, exercising utmost control.

Invisible threads of control are attached to every finger of yours (including the digits on your feet), and the world changes to accommodate your every whim.

All is done. Now what?

In the awkward respite caused by total success, your mind wanders and is struck by a cold realization:

The strings work both ways.

All the time you thought you were in control, you were conditioned by the consciousness of the masses; a tool of utmost precision for manifesting collective desires.

You're a product; a non-identity. You don't even exist.

Now would be a good time to cry - only if you knew how.