Rae stood on the threshold, peering down into the eyes of her beloved dog, the dog she had adopted one year ago and promised to love forever. His eyes broke her heart. He knew she was hurting. He knew she was leaving - and that almost tempted her to stay - again. She wished she could make him understand why. “Why does this feel like you're leaving for good?” her fiancé asked her. Because it is, she didn't answer out loud. She offered a weak smile through her tears and kissed him one last time. “I'll see you in a week,” she lied, and closed the door behind her. With her head held high and fists clenched, she silently got in her car and backed out of the driveway. It wasn't until she was around the corner that she let the sobs escape. Once released, they came forth in violent waves – months and months of heartache, frustration, anger, despair, anxiety, depression, confusion, fear, grief. She cried so hard she gasped for breath and her tears blurred her vision, but she couldn't stop - not this time. She had to keep going. She had turned around so many times before. It had to be for real this time. Episodes from their 14 years together replayed in her mind – scenes she'd replayed over and over again, analyzing every harsh word exchanged, wondering for the millionth time if she had over-reacted. But even if she had, did his words and actions have to make her feel so horrible? She'd let it slide for 14 years. She'd made up excuses for him – he'd been neglected by his father and bullied by peers, so it made sense that he always had to be right, that he was constantly trying to prove himself. She could forgive that. She could forgive his bossiness, his need to be in control, his double standards. She could forgive that he sucked at romance and thoughtful gifts. She could forgive a lot of things, and she had, for a long, long time. But then they bought a house, and got a dog, and they both had careers they loved, and she'd asked him (again) if they could get married…and he said no. That's when she finally started to realize that there would always be excuses, because he was a controlling, emotionally abusive, narcissistic asshole. That's when Rae had come to the incredibly painful realization that she had to leave. She had to somehow let go of the last 14 years of her life and find a way to move forward on her own, no matter how terrifying it might be. An hour later she arrived at her cousin's, who greeted her with a kind hug and showed her to the spare bedroom. A twin air mattress and small table had been set up in between the closet and the rabbit cage. This was going to be her living space for the next several months. Deciding to embrace it, Rae set down her luggage and drove across the street to the Walmart to pick out some bedding. Standing there in the aisle, viewing all the options, she couldn't help but smile. Is this what freedom felt like? She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to the store by herself, let alone picked out something she wanted, without his opinions and insults of her tastes, and his disgusting misuse of the word “compromise". There had never been any compromising with him – it had just been him convincing her why his idea was better. Nothing had ever been good enough for him if he wasn't the one to make the decision. Selecting a blue and purple sheet set and a small lamp, Rae made her way to the check out with a little skip in her step. Back at her cousin's apartment, she reflected on how amazing it felt to actually have a space to call her own - just hers. She realized that this feeling she was experiencing - this feeling of inner peace and safety, of self-expression - was what she had been missing for so long. Was it the absence of this feeling that had driven her to therapy and antidepressants? Was it really as simple as just having your own space? Rae didn't sleep that night. She was too anxious; excited for the new sense of freedom and positive experiences that lay before her, but also dreading the grief and despair she knew she would have to endure in order to heal and move on. A few days later, she drove two hours to the airport. She parked her car in the long-term parking lot and boarded a shuttle. She checked in for her flight, received her ticket, and found her way to her gate. All by herself. After boarding the plane and finding her window seat, she sent a selfie to a friend. They responded, “You look happy.” Gazing out the window, Rae realized that she was, in fact, happy. Deeply, authentically happy. More than that, she knew that this was the first of many amazing adventures she was going to take herself on. She was a strong, amazing, independent woman, and she was going to be okay.

The story I, Hermann Anders, intend unthreading consists in a spiritual walk, in which figures of similar but opposing forms came into struggle one with the other. Symbols manifested through the blood and bones unveiling the iridescent nature of human beings. Don't misinterpret. There was a concrete path, but this doesn't undermine the reality of the invisible one. What I want to bring into relief is exactly that which is latent and hidden. Those secret and enigmatic movements that can be perceived only by reading directly into the essence rather than by a mere recollection of facts. “Path of the Gods,” that's the name of the walk we've done. Quite ironic since its name is pagan when in facts, it was full of catholic mysteries, sanctuaries and mother mary icons. No circles, rather crosses on top of mountains. Perfect for crucifying those pieces of flesh of my two companions: Günther, the coward and Benjamin, the hen. Laying eggs surrounded by cowards who would exchange them for gold – the perfect image which denotes the two. Arrived at Madonna dei Fornelli, the two pieces of flesh went to rest in cages as two chickens that like to fuck with each other. They simply went to a B&B and wasted their money for some chicken prison. I, without expecting it, found this little green garden – Eden – full of blonde, tall and blue eyed angelic nymphs. One approached me and asked if I was starving. I was supposed to catch up with the two others and eat like an old sac of shrivelled skin. Instead, I stayed with the nymphs, ate their improvised spaghetti with tomatoes and vegetables and listened their melodic harmonies. Then at a certain point they started praying for the Lord of the slaves. I was surrounded by a group of eleven hot blonde Belgian catholic scouts alternating between a hallelujah and a “I love you mother mary, protect me from evil. Amen.” How would it be to have my dove in the middle of those hands joined together instead of their erotic fantasies on their Almighty Lord of the Love – even on their knees they would go! And I had to be careful in concealing my nature otherwise they would have kicked my ass out of their circle. Meanwhile, as the fire was increasing and the sky fading, I noticed the demonic eyes of a nymph gazing at me. She would talk and laugh sweetly with her friends as she'd wave quick glimpses towards me. Then, with a sensual circular movement she started passing chopstick delicately on her lips, a tilt of her head leaning towards me as waiting to pick up her call. I made her understand that I was in love with her intentions. But guess what? What could she do? Go against the spirit of all her group of catholic devoted nuns? No! That would dissociate and isolate her. She had to maintain her customs and repress her desires. As the fire was at its last sparks, and most went inside their own tents, me and my prey stayed. I learned that she studies ancient Greek, philosophy and literature, unlike her friends which were all into medicine or engineering. As her words were moving, I was focused on her tall thick legs, wide hips and pastel pink lips. Her green eyes looked like a lake with inside the reflection of the flames of fire. It's not casual I spoke about this anecdote of symbolic forces that supersede over the instinctual underlying ones. These as well are invisible. Forcing someone under clear light or with chains is no fun, I believe. I prefer people to make their own choices, free from the vertical threads of God. And what did my two companions do during our walk? They instituted an erotic form of love of master and slave. The kind of Hegelian dialectic, but where the outcome of the dialectic flip was quite ambiguous. If it did occur, then I'd be surprized of Günther's intelligence. The Hen, wouldn't stop professing and boasting of his premature knowledge on general facts, that once gently enquired to go deeper his trivial constructions would collapse along with him. It's funny how the slave, when in search for a master, attempts entering in the way of thinking of his prospected master. Just for the sake of a custom. Even when the master is full of bullshit, which the slave isn't able to discern for his base intellect. I asked Günther what he'd prefer: a complex truth, that involves some thinking or a simple persuasive lie that explains everything. I'll let you, reader, guess his answer. Then, because of the slave's greatest virtue, he can empathize the most with the master's sentiments and desires. Whatever the master desires, turns into the desire of the slave. Whatever judgment the master would make, coincides with that of the slave. The apparent difference is that the one is legislator of himself, the other is a mere slave. When in truth both are miserable slaves of each other. The legislation of the master wouldn't hold without the existence of his slave, because the master craves the attentions of his dog. God, what a miserable thing you are.

I walked hurriedly to meet my friend at a local Cafe' to go over a presentation that I had put together for an event that had my nerves worked up. It was freezing outside as snow fell silently across the city. I held onto my backpack tightly with my gloved hands, my teeth chattering as I fantasized about the hot coffee I would soon be indulging in. Jones was standing outside waiting for me as I approached. "Oh, hey! So, I heard you're the new age immigration writer in town, its nice to meet you ma'am!” He said to me snidely with a slight eyebrow raise as he held the door to the cafe' open for me. I smiled kindly and tucked a strand of hair behind my ears to make a better connection, "Oh, is that what they're labeling me as now?" I side stepped him in a playful manner. He followed me inside the doorway to continue the conversation, "Well, what would you label yourself as?" He shrugged as if it were a simple question with an obvious answer. My smile never wavered as I held my head high and met his eyes, "Nothing. I am not a label, therefor, I don't have one." He chuckled lightly, "Sure you do. Everyone has a label. I mean, I'm the guy who likes to play rugby in freezing temps, which earned me the title of a fighter." Pausing to reflect on the statement made, I lowered my eyes only to find a resilience sleeping in me that I never knew was there. Slowly, I raised my eyes back to his, "See, that's what is wrong in our times today. Society has made us believe that we are all labeled in some way. That we fall into a certain category, and that leads us to be judged based on what category we happen to fall into. Don't you understand? We are not categories or labels. We are people with feelings, emotions, aspirations, and dreams. We don't deserve to fall into a specific category which creates a sense of mental instability for ourselves to believe. No, we deserve to believe in ourselves whole heartedly and know who we are without the world telling us who we are. Labels are outdated and categories are overrated. It's time for us to be true to ourselves and just be who we are. What is wrong with that? And quite frankly, I've never fallen into the “EVERYONE” category. Im not everyone. I am me.” Jones couldn't find the words to combat my thoughts, he only nodded with a smile as he slid his arm around me in a welcoming embrace that made his understanding clear.

The rave at the Pub was intoxicating and freaky mixed with the sweet fragrance of booze and whiffs of smoke high in the air. The room was dimly lit with only a swirling club light filling the room with multicolored spots as it rotated back and forth on the ceiling. I saw lots of bodies tangled together in closed spaces as the music blasted from the speakers placed right behind me at the back end of the booth. There was a twinkle of bright light as a young waitress lifted a bottle of an expensive drink, wearing the skimpiest shorts I had ever seen, heading towards my direction. The bottle was carefully placed on our table in front of a very thick man whose eyes were fixed on the full ample breast of the waitress that was nearly popping out of her skin tight top.  The lights were removed from the bottle and I saw the fine Jack Daniels scotch sitting proudly on the table alongside Ice cubes and shot glasses. She turned to leave but was stalled by the man who stuck his hands out to stop her. He placed folded naira notes into her back pocket while he gently squeezed her backside. She giggled and left the booth while I turned away to avoid appearing like a newbie. My head snaps up when the sharp smell of cigarettes hits my nose with a force that made me nearly gag. I do not like cigarettes, so I was totally turned off when I saw a full pack of Benson on the table. I signed up for it by being here, so I will endure. Going out was never my strong suit, so when I finally shook off the girlish shyness for such places and brazenly decided to visit the nearest one closest to me, I knew it would be a hell of an experience because I saw firsthand what went down in such places and most importantly I had fun and let loose. Obviously, I did because I am writing about it. The sitting arrangement at the club was kind of weird because there were only large cushion chairs placed side by side around the room, so the center looked like an open dance floor while the spectators sat and watched. This made me uncomfortable because I sat close to a lot of people I did not know and frankly, no one cared, so I relaxed a bit. My bottle of Smirnoff Ice was opened and halfway empty when some group of girls suddenly got up and started dancing. The lady with the shimmering black halter neck, bare back short gown caught my attention. She was the definition of a seductress. The lights bounced off her dress adding to her allure and I couldn't help but stare at her. She was gently moving to the rhythm of the song blasting from the speakers, twirling and shaking her body and waist to the beat. The other guys were focused on her as well because she was simply captivating and she worked her magic on the whole room while we watched. The song changed and just like that she switched up her tempo and started twerking. As much I loved to watch people dance, I knew I could not dance to save my life if there was ever a situation like that. I was born with two left feet that couldn't interpret any moves I had lined up expertly in my head. So I watched others dance and subtly moved my body from left to right with my head bubbling up and down to the beat of the music. . . Full Read https://www.dropbox.com/s/i3o1rmf7jlwsqy8/A%20VISIT%20TO%20THE%20PUB.docx?dl=0

All over the world, the journey of a woman's life is predetermined by the patriarchal society we live in – it's not an opinion, but a fact. This restricted and claustrophobic journey is sadly amplified for those girls who are born in regular, unassuming and conventional families in developing countries like India. Although I was not born to conservative parents, their parents were very traditional. So, when I was born, a second daughter, my mother was subjected to a lot of emotional abuse from both of my grandparents. Not a great thing to learn when growing up, however, it does explain why I was never as close to my grandparents as my older sister and younger brother were. I don't know how this affected my subconscious?! Perhaps, me being fiercely independent from a very young age and a bit of a rebel would be a measured behavioural outcome of the knowledge that I had of how (un)loved and (un)wanted I was by my grandparents! Anyhow, getting to the crux of the story, I have always lived my life on my terms “unapologetically”, but never used this term till it was made trendy by millennials. I worked from the age of 16, got my Bachelor's degree, left my country to pursue my Masters (1000s miles away from my home) in pursuit of freedom and independence when a lot of my peers were getting married. I got a job, lived on my own, fell in love and married to a “gora / gringo” (it wasn't a done thing at the time in my home country). All of these things were challenges in their own right, but I was never phased by them. Also, I love a good challenge, a classic trait of a rebel! I must add here, my parents and siblings always supported me at the end and stood by my decisions and even, celebrated them with me. As a child, I always dreamt of travelling the world, and I got to do that a lot with my loving partner-in-crime, my husband. However, as expected from a woman, once you're married with a job and a house, the prospect of producing an offspring was lingering over my head. Now, this expectation, isn't just limited to females from certain conventional families, it's an expectation from females, full stop. Apparently, a desire to procreate should come naturally to women…only I didn't feel that way. It took me weeks to gather courage to tell my husband that I didn't feel the need to leave a legacy behind – a child. I wasn't worried about telling him that I didn't want to use my female reproduction super powers (we share an open and transparent relationship), but what worried me was, what if he felt differently – could I bear to lose my best friend? We went to our favourite Italian restaurant and after a few glasses of wine (of course) I told him that I didn't want to be a parent, but, instead, I wanted to see the world with him! He listened to me patiently and, he replied, to my surprise, that he shared the same feelings, but didn't know how to say it. Well, needless to say I was greatly relieved! However, soon after I felt relieved, the thought of telling our parents about our decision took over and that, seemed like a huge mountain to climb. Remember, I said expectations! It's not “normal” for people to decide not to procreate – human instinct and all that. It was easy for me to tell my mother, as I tell her pretty much everything, but to tell my in-laws of our decision was very daunting. My mother took the news beautifully, as always, she supported my decision and said “as long as you both are happy, that's all it matters”. Eventually, we told our in-laws and although, it was far from easy, and it took them some time to come around our decision, they accepted it. The declaration of our decision to not procreate and overburden the planet which is already brimming with children, didn't limit to our family and friends, it's something we have to do on a regular basis by answering questions, “so, do you have children / when are you planning to have a little one / when are you going to start a family?”, to extended relatives, friends' families, neighbours, my hairdresser, my local café owner, strangers…the list is endless. I have been tempted at times to say “we've tried but to no avail” – you see, you get sympathy to that response, but not when you say you've chosen not to have a child – you get judged for it and are even called “selfish”. So, here are the questions I contemplate – why is it “normal” to want to have kids and not acceptable to choose not to? Also, why do we have to conform to the society and live our lives dictated by it? My husband and I chose, NOT to conform – we couldn't be happier and are living fulfilled lives. Years ago, I came across a very powerful saying that I always go back to when I am feeling lost and unsure - “If Not Now, When? If Not Me, Who?” I keep reminding myself not to worry about what others think and I continue to make life choices that I feel are right for me and I do that unapologetically.

We all want it. Our forefathers envisioned it and wrote about it in the annals of history and our military still uphold it. Freedom. An online dictionary defines freedom as, "the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint." It can be a bit of a catch-22. How desirable is it? There are many quips and quotes that sound good such as, "Just do it", or "Be the change you want to see" or better yet, "Don't wait. The time will never be just right". Right? I decided, for the millionth time, that I was completely dissatisfied with a job I'd held for over 5 years. It was a good job and I liked my coworkers. But the old saying, "life is short' kept running through my head. So I quit my job. I didn't have another one lined up but knew I'd find something. And I did! I found a great job with a new company and loved it there! Then the bottom fell out. My boss called me into her office and closed the door. Never a good sign. After 7 glorious months with this company she said that due to restructuring I was being laid off. I sat there in mind-numbing disbelief. I told myself that I would be okay. One can hope. Maybe half of the people in the world have had a somewhat traditional goal to meet someone, fall in love and get married. Or to be in a committed relationship. And they love it. However, they might not notice the almost imperceptible little strings hiding behind the scenes. Until their independence is questioned. And then it can create a little hole in their freedom bucket. Today's newspaper highlighted an article on some foodie entrepreneurs opening a new restaurant promising an exciting and wonderful cuisine. They will be following their dream of becoming self-employed owners free to follow their dreams. What if they decide to change it up and want to add live music or cute little tables and chairs outside of the restaurant? They're self-employed owners. They are free to do what they want. As long as they follow the rules and ordinances. Right? There might be some strings... I've always believed I was a free-spirited leader. Definitely not a follower. However, I do like to set goals and I feel great when I accomplish them. Even if that's getting out of bed, showering and making coffee. It's the little things. As an unemployed free human I've been enjoying the freedom to sleep in as long as I've wanted. I can read, watch t.v. or go for long walks. No one to check in with or a clock to keep track of. Meh. I miss chatting with coworkers at the old water cooler (are those still around?). I miss setting the alarm clock, hitting snooze a couple of times, and then picking out my clothes for work. I mostly miss getting a paycheck. Regularly. Like in the bank. Work commitments and relationships can hold the promise of a future but is there freedom offered as well? I think so. But there are the ever present little strings attached. And I kinda like it.

When asked what one's ideal life looks like, many often wish for eternal happiness, or life without any affliction. However, suffering may be even more of a necessity than it is inevitable, for often times, it is only in periods of adversity where we can learn more about ourselves and the world, and undergo character growth. Upon reading an excerpt from Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's, The Gulag Archipelago, my belief in the latter was solidified as I read of the conclusions he drew from both his personal experiences and the tales of others during his time in the forced labour camp. In the beginning, Solzhenitsyn discusses the personal growth one can achieve through suffering and the inexplicable ripening of the soul that occurs when one's freedom is taken away. He discovers that in times of extreme suffering, one is able to understand that in life, it is not the result that counts, but the spirit with which the individual arms himself with. When you are able to reorient what reward and punishment mean to you, there is nothing that can be done to harm or scare you so long that your soul is still intact — that you are still endowed with humanity and goodness. Solzhenitsyn also remarks that through suffering, you learn of your own weakness and become more empathetic in understanding others' struggles, and appreciate another's strength. Though his ideas have developed in the context of a forced labour camp, his discoveries act as an important lesson to us in our daily lives that suffering gives way to growth, regardless of what kind of struggles we face. When we experience hardships, we will realize that it is not what but how that is of significance. When we are deprived of our freedoms and faced with our own weaknesses, we come to understand the weaknesses of others and appreciate their strengths. And perhaps most important of all, when we are imprisoned with an innocent conscience, we must remember to reorient our view as to what punishment truly is. If we see reward as upward development of the soul, then, like Solzhenitsyn says, “from that point of view our torturers have been punished most horribly of all: they are turning into swine, they are departing downward from humanity.” If the soul remains free, then imprisonment of the body is insignificant. Perhaps even more important is that Solzhenitsyn's time at the camp leads to his discovery that “the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human through all human hearts.” Good and evil exists in all of us — it is not separated by distinctions between classes of people. Rather, “this line shifts; inside us, it oscillates with the years: and even within hearts overwhelmed by evil, one small bridgehead of good is retained, and even in best of all hearts, there remains… an up-rooted small corner of evil.” Through his suffering, Solzhenitsyn realizes that though in different periods of our lives the ratio of good and evil may vary, the nature of human provides that both will always exist simultaneously. For this reason, I always seek to understand instead of criticize, as it has always been my personal belief that there is a tiny seed of goodness in those who may seem far beyond it, and alternately, a shard of evil or temptation to do wrong even in those with the purest of hearts. Upon reading this section of the excerpt, I was also reminded of the Harry Potter series. One of the major themes in the novels is to remember that nothing is black and white, and to have compassion for others as we are all capable of both good and bad. One line that this excerpt specifically reminded me of was when Dumbledore states that “it [is] important... to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then [can] evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated...” Though this can refer specifically to the context of war, it can also refer to a deeper and more personal battle that each of us have to fight not just once, but throughout our lifetime. Much like what Theodore Dalrymple says in “How — and How Not — to Love Mankind” about the victory over cruelty requiring eternal vigilance, man's capacity for humanity is something that must be constantly exercised, as man's capacity for inhumanity can never truly be eradicated. Overall, Solzhenitsyn's, The Gulag Archipelago, provided me with deeper insights and discoveries concerning the true usefulness of suffering in the “ascent” of one's soul that I feel I must share with all. The findings that Solzhenitsyn unearthed both about himself and the world are remarkable and provide the key insight that perhaps we should not hope for a life with no pain or hardships, but instead, seek the ability and freedom to govern our own souls in times of suffering and imprisonment.

We have the right to believe. Freedom of belief or religion is enshrined in most laws and the practice of religion an important part of life in spite of the changes brought about by the modern world. The dawn of the modern age began with the spread of secularization. This allowed for the clear separation of church and state and a distinction between the temporal and the spiritual. Inevitably, this brought up the influx of different cultures and faith systems we see today. More prominent signs of cultural pluralism are seen in countries like Asia, where the blend of tradition and modernity flow seamlessly. The quaint image of a literal market of ideas could fill one with joy, as though every person can walk in harmony. The fundamental right to belief, however, is not as safe as it appears. While governments have created measures to ensure that every person's human rights are secured, freedom of belief included, in some cases compromises are made. The call for the defense of the freedom of belief is more pressing than ever, especially now with the rise of extremism on the horizon. Modernity gave rise to the influx of cultures we see today. Today, it is not strange to see a person of mixed race walking in the streets or to encounter a Muslim in a Christian majority area. Religion and culture bring our modern world some fresh perspective of what life was like before. Our beliefs have shaped our worldviews long before we had the screens to view the world and all of its wonders. To understand how it has happened, a good understanding of the history of religious movement worldwide has to be established. Religious pluralism had already existed since the time of the Persian Empire. This was much clearer in the Roman Empire, where Jews, Christians and polytheists of non-Roman religions co-existed, albeit with some tension. In spite of persecutions against Christianity, Rome eventually endorsed Christianity as the state religion. This would also enforce the dogma of the Catholic Church upon Europe for a millennia. In the East, tolerance was more prevalent. Islamic states held great respect for Jews and Christians as “people of the book” (referring to the shared ancestry through Abraham) and even people of other faiths were spared from persecution. Even the fusion of different religious beliefs and ideas came to being in places like India during the reign of the Mughal Emperor Akbar the Great, who encouraged religious discourses between different faiths. Yet it was the Protestant Reformation that brought about the most change. When Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses on the church door in Wittenberg, he did more than defy the power of the Catholic Church but brought about a new way of viewing religion and the individual's place in society and the world. The individual's agency was given more importance, for his faith and not sacraments would dictate his ultimate fate. This was not the first instance of Christianity changing its paradigms, as humanism had taken root earlier to challenge conventional thinking through a revival of ancient wisdom from the Greeks. The desired outcome for humanists in the Renaissance was for the spread of knowledge. Just as important for them was the need for a conviction rooted in Scripture to defeat ignorance and superstition that prevailed among the common folk and to allow them to think for themselves, to choose their own faith. The trend of humanism opened up something in the Reformation and other movements that was not seen before and it was the importance of the individual's freedom to choose what they believed in. Rather than rely on dogma or institutions, individuals were made to see the bigger picture for themselves and their place in the world, as opposed to what the scholars of the day considered blind faith. Humanism also paved the way for secularization to take place. This firmly separated religion from state power and thus privatizing religion. The separation of church and state was an important move that helped religious institutions like the church detach from temporal power in order to focus on the spirituality it held strongly to. Ultimately, what helped pave the way for the modern world's acceptance of secularization, which removed the primacy of religion in the public sphere, was the privatization and individualization of faith. This meant that secularization gave people more freedom, more room to think deeply about their faith than when powerful institutions held greater control over their beliefs. The removal of institutional power over individual choice was a key step in shaping the world we have today. Democracies were formed by this fundamental freedom of choice. Of all the rights enshrined in the constitutions of the world, the cornerstone for a number of them would be the freedom of conscience.

Our generation is more connected than ever thanks to social media, and nowadays everybody can express their opinions. This is a very good thing, and a very frightening one at the same time. Indeed, it's very heartwarming to see that freedom of expression is alive and well, but it is also scary to think that with the modern tools available, anyone can be heard throughout the whole wide world. That means that anyone can create a movement or redirect the purpose of one, which can have good as well as bad consequences. The ease with which someone can be heard is great because it allows anyone to make injustices known and undone, or make heroes known and rewarded. For example, a few days ago, a video of a man named Mamoudou Gassama saving a child by scaling a building in Paris went viral to the point where the French president Emmanuel Macron rewarded him with a medal. This story was quite innocent and had a happy ending. However, the freedom of expression that made the hero known also ended up making him hated, because in this new world, everyone wants to be heard by everybody, and what better way to be heard than by using trends ? Thus, the Parisian hero, who happened to be originally from Africa, became the poster child for pro-migrants militants, who are hated by a lot of people. And that's how, in an instant, in this world of eyes and ears, we started shouting over each other and using a hero as a scapegoat, when the only point of the story was that a child had been saved by a good Samaritan with great climbing skills. We should have rejoiced around that story, but instead we started bickering at each other because everyone wants to have the last word, even when there is no word to be had in the first place. That is what frightens me. My generation is so focused on expressing itself that it sometimes gives too much meaning to trivial or simple things, making actual meaningful things trivial themselves. And if we lost the joy of knowing a life has been saved in a couple of hours, what else did we already lose without realizing it, and what else will we lose if we keep acting this way ?