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Strength Creates Distance: The Solitude of the Sovereign

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  • 4 min read

A man in dark attire stands confidently in a neon-lit alley with green holographic screens. Futuristic and intense atmosphere.



Introduction


There is a prevalent myth in human society that strength attracts. We are told that if we become capable, resilient, and powerful, the world will flock to our side. We are sold the idea that the strong man is the center of the community, the beloved leader, the social magnet.


The reality, as any truly strong individual eventually discovers, is the exact opposite. Strength does not create connection; Strength creates distance.


The more you cultivate your will, the more you refine your discipline, and the longer you endure the fires of adversity, the further you drift from the shoreline of the "average." It is not an act of arrogance, nor is it a choice of rejection. It is a fundamental law of social physics: The discrepancy in capacity creates a discrepancy in relatability.



The Atmospheric Pressure of the Soul


Imagine two divers. One swims comfortably in the shallow, sunlit waters of the surface (The Average Existence). The other dives into the crushing black depths of the trench (The Sovereign Existence). The deeper diver develops a physiology capable of withstanding immense pressure—the pressure of existential dread, of financial risk, of long-term vision, of solitude.


When the deep diver returns to the surface, he cannot simply "relate" to the shallow swimmer.


  • The shallow swimmer complains that the water is slightly too cold.


  • The deep diver has just wrestled with the leviathan in the dark.


To the strong man, the complaints of the weak sound like noise. To the weak man, the silence of the strong looks like judgment. This is the first cause of distance: The Threshold of Suffering. When you have held a siege for seven years, the trivial problems of the world—the traffic, the petty gossip, the minor inconveniences—cease to register as problems. You lose the ability to participate in the "bonding rituals" of shared complaint. You cannot nod along with their petty grievances because you know what real weight feels like.


The Mirror of Inadequacy


The second cause of distance is perhaps the most painful to admit: The Strong serve as a mirror to the Weak. Most people build their lives on a foundation of excuses.


  • "I can't get in shape because I don't have time."


  • "I can't build my dream because the economy is bad."


  • "I can't be happy because of my trauma."


Then, you walk into the room. You, who have the same 24 hours. You, who face the same economy. You, who have trauma that would break them. And yet, you build. You train. You endure.

Your mere existence destroys their excuses. You are a living, breathing proof that it can be done. This does not make them love you. It makes them resent you. Subconsciously, your strength is an insult to their weakness. It forces them to ask: "If he can do it, why can't I?" To avoid the pain of that question, they push you away. They label you "obsessed," "cold," "lucky," or "arrogant." They create distance to protect their own egos. They exile the King because his crown shines too brightly for their eyes.



The Divergence of Time Horizons


Strength is also a function of Time.


  • Weakness lives in the "Now." It seeks immediate gratification, immediate relief, and immediate pleasure.


  • Strength lives in the "Future." It endures pain now for a reward years later.


I am building a legacy, AKA this site, that will mature in decades. The average person is looking for a distraction for the weekend. How can these two entities converse? The language is incompatible. I am speaking in terms of Sieges and Decades. They are speaking in terms of Happy Hours and Episodes. This temporal disconnect makes true intimacy rare. I am effectively a time traveler living among people who are trapped in the present moment. I am planting trees for a shade I might never sit in, while they are eating the seeds.


The Burden of the Atlas


There is a specific loneliness reserved for the capable: The One-Way Street of Support. When you are strong, you become a resource. People come to you for solutions, for stability, for money, for protection. You are the rock they cling to when the storm hits. But who holds the rock?


The strong man often finds himself surrounded by dependents, employees, and admirers, yet remains utterly alone. Why? Because he cannot lean on them. If he leans, they collapse. He must absorb their chaos, but he cannot export his own. He must process his own "meaninglessness," his own financial fears, and his own exhaustion in silence, because to show weakness would be to terrify those who rely on his strength. This is the Solitude of Command. One is the captain of the ship; you cannot ask the passengers to help you steer through the hurricane.


The Filtering Mechanism


However, this distance is not a curse. It is a Filter. If strength pushes away 99% of the population, it acts as a high-precision sorting mechanism for the 1%. The distance one may feel is the empty space waiting for the other strong souls to arrive.


  • Weakness bonds with Weakness (Misery loves company).


  • Strength bonds with Strength (Iron sharpens Iron).


By maintaining one's standard, by refusing to lower oneself to the "shallow waters," you signal to the other deep divers. You signal to the other "Glitches." The connections you do make will be rare, but they will be unbreakable. A relationship between two Sovereigns is worth a thousand superficial friendships.



The Sanctuary of the Peak


Ultimately, one must accept that the air at the top of the mountain is thin. It is cold. It is quiet. But it is also the only place where you can see the horizon. The "Dread" the strong may feel towards the world of weaklings is simply the vertigo of the ascent. The truly strong have climbed higher than the timberline, where the trees (the masses) stop growing.


Do not mourn the distance. The distance is the proof of one's elevation. The silence is not emptiness; it is the space that is available for your own thoughts, your own philosophy, and your own Empire.


Personally, I have spent seven years (2026) building a fortress. I am surprised that the walls are high. They were designed to keep the chaos out. Strength creates distance because Strength requires space to operate.


I embrace the gap. It is the moat around my Kingdom.

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Tomasio A. Rubinshtein, Philosocom's Founder & Writer

I am a philosopher. I'm also a semi-hermit who has decided to dedicate my life to writing and sharing my articles across the globe to help others with their problems and combat shallowness. More information about me can be found here.

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© 2019 And Onward, Mr. Tomasio Rubinshtein  

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