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Recently, someone sent me this video, and it went like this:

“Alexander the Great conquered the known world at 19, but you’re too afraid to say the n-word?”

Say what you will about that.

I went to look in the comments, and I was barraged with the most pathetic, loser, horrid, and wicked comment I’ve ever seen.

It was something like this:

“Yeah, well, he got poisoned at 30, and all his villages got raided.”

If you think like this, you’re beyond stupid.

You can’t be retarded enough to write something like that. It’s just not possible.

You’re weak.

You were born to be a slave.

Working for others until you die a loser no one remembers.

Let me tell you why:

At 33 years old, Julius Caesar wept at the feet of a statue of Alexander the Great.

A statue passed by thousands of men.

Each one of those meaningless worms looked into the eyes of greatness and saw only the imperfections of Alexander.

They were destined for a future only fit for slaves.

But one man saw true beauty.

And in that beauty, he saw the shame of his own wasted life.

Caesar understood that at 19, Alexander had conquered nations, shattered kings, and carved his name into history.

And Caesar had done nothing.

He didn’t cope.

He didn’t make excuses.

He didn’t comfort himself by pointing out Alexander’s flaws.

He let greatness insult him.

He let it humiliate him.

He let it burn him alive.

And from that fire, Caesar rose to become dictator of Rome.

But he’s far from the only one who felt this urge.

Napoleon felt it as he marched across Europe, chasing the ghosts of Caesar and Alexander.

Every land he conquered only made the hunger worse.

Every crown he crushed only reminded him that greatness is never satisfied.

This urge is not something you can awaken.

It is only something you can be born with.

And some are born slaves to imperfection.

Others, greatness.

So ask yourself:

Are you Caesar?

Or are you a passerby?