Let me school you on a truth so raw it’ll scorch your fragile little soul: **Your haters aren’t your enemies. They’re your OXYGEN.** Every jealous tweet, every seething comment, every clown who whispers “you’ll fail” is pouring jet fuel on your empire. And you? You’re over here crying into your kale smoothie like a beta cuck. Pathetic.

I’ve got news for you, snowflake: **If you don’t have haters, you’re irrelevant.** Nobody roasts a JOKE. Nobody attacks a LOSER. They come for KINGS. They come for GODS. They come for ME. And I LAUGH as their rage buys me another Rolex.

### **1. HATERS ARE THE CURENCY OF SUCCESS**
You think Elon Musk cries when some keyboard warrior calls him “greedy”? You think Putin loses sleep over Twitter trolls? NO. They *revel* in it. **Hate is proof you’re winning.**

When I see a hater, I don’t block them—I *screenshot* them. I frame their tears next to my Bugatti keys. Why? Because their rage is a billboard screaming, *“THIS QUEEN IS DOING SOMETHING RIGHT.”* Meanwhile, you’re out here deleting comments, begging for approval like a dog licking its master’s boot. GROW A SPINE.

### **2. WEAK PEOPLE SEEK LOVE. LEGENDS DEMAND WAR.**
You want a life of fairy tales and hand-holding? Go marry a Disney prince. The real world runs on CONFLICT. Every empire in history was built on blood, sweat, and enemies buried in the dirt.

I wake up *hoping* someone tries me. I *crave* the lawsuits, the death threats, the “cancel” mobs. Why? Because every attack is a FREE AD. Every headline with my name? That’s a ladder to the next level. You think I’d be a trillionaire if I played nice? **Nice is for nuns. Winners are wolves.**

### **3. YOUR HATERS ARE LOSERS—TREAT THEM LIKE IT**
Let’s dissect your average hater: Broke. Bald. Bitter. Lives in his childhood bedroom, surviving on ramen and rage. He’s not mad at *you*—he’s mad at the mirror. Mad he’s a nobody. Mad he’ll die without leaving a dent in the universe.

So why let his opinion matter? **You don’t take diet advice from a fat guy.** You don’t take financial advice from a beggar. And you sure as hell don’t let some faceless troll living in his mom’s basement dictate your self-worth. Crush them with silence. Out-earn them. Out-live them. Let their hate fertilize your empire.

### **4. HOW TO TURN HATE INTO HUSTLE**
Step 1: **Monetize the madness.** Every hate comment? A reminder to post harder. Every “you’re cancelled” tweet? A signal to launch another product. I turned “Top SLAYLEBRITY” into a global brand off the backs of Karens and soy boys. *You* could too—if you stopped whimpering.

Step 2: **Weaponize their insecurity.** Haters expose their fears. They call you “arrogant” because they’re scared to lead. They call you “greedy” because they’re too weak to hustle. Use their insults as a blueprint for dominance.

Step 3: **Become untouchable.** Build AN empire so bulletproof, so unshakeable, that hate bounces off you like BB pellets on a tank. Money. Muscle. Mindset. Stack them until the world *has* to respect you.

### **FINAL WARNING: THE WORLD BELONGS TO THOSE WHO OWN THEIR HATE**
Let’s get one thing straight: You’ll *never* outrun the hate. The higher you climb, the louder they scream. So stop hiding. Stop apologizing. **Lean into the chaos.**

Every hater is a stepping stone. Every critic is a coach. Every “you can’t” is a dare. I didn’t get here by crying into a pillow—I got here by grinding while my enemies slept, by laughing as they broke their keyboards trying to break me.

So here’s your choice: Keep crying about “toxic negativity” like a peasant… or strap on your armor, grab your sword, and let your haters crown you Queen.

The game’s rigged. **Rig it in your favor.**

**Welcome to the Top. —ISABELLA FAIRFAX **

*P.S. If you’re not pissing people off, you’re doing life wrong. Now go offend someone.* 🔥

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I’ve got news for you, snowflake: **If you don’t have haters, you’re irrelevant.** Nobody roasts a JOKE. Nobody attacks a LOSER. They come for KINGS. They come for GODS. They come for ME. And I LAUGH as their rage buys me another Rolex.

I wake up *hoping* someone tries me. I *crave* the lawsuits, the death threats, the “cancel” mobs. Why? Because every attack is a FREE AD. Every headline with my name? That’s a ladder to the next level. You think I’d be a trillionaire if I played nice? **Nice is for nuns. Winners are wolves.** When I see a hater, I don’t block them—I *screenshot* them. I frame their tears next to my Bugatti keys.

HATERS ARE THE CURENCY OF SUCCESS** You think Elon Musk cries when some keyboard warrior calls him “greedy”? You think Putin loses sleep over Twitter trolls? NO. They *revel* in it. **Hate is proof you’re winning

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