This is the first upload after my copyright issues and it kinda symbolizes the end of an era. Some changes will come to this channel however before that I wanted to make a video about this poem since it's really dear to me.
This video is dedicated to all the wonderful people who supported me on this journey.
This video is dedicated to Tom Bedlam and to all the people who weep when they hear his voice.
This video is dedicated to Iness and to all the people that comment telling me to never give up.
This video is dedicated to my friends and to the viewers that I will never meet.
Finally, this video is dedicated to the everlasting war of art and to the certainty that beauty will win.

Forever Humbled,
a kid with a camera

Support me on Patreon:   / illneas  

Find me here   / _illneas  
  / illneas  
  / illneas  

Second channel
   / @akidwithacameraorjustillneas  

Communities
h  / discord  
  / 2314655172176122  
  / searchingformeaning  

References

The narrator is Tom Bedlam

The music is this:
Where are the stars by Silver Maple

(Dj Chubbz's help was crucial to make this song fit this video)

My equipment:
I film handheld with a Panasonic Lumix
G80
https://amzn.to/2uGqmQZ
GX80
https://amzn.to/33e5Tye
Olympus M.Zuiko Digital 45mm F1.8 Lens
https://amzn.to/2vr9P3N

If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with wornout tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitchandtoss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!