I want my freedom

All human beings want to live in freedom, this is because "freedom" is the main face of what we define as "peace"; But what is this "peace"? In my opinion, it is the balance of the daily forces achieved individually, as can be certain academic and personal successes; as collectively: such as security, or the wealth of a nation. However, there are human beings who in one way or another want to end up with the individual freedoms of their equals in order to achieve their own objectives.

In any case, this is called "tyranny"; the oppression of the strong over the weak.

The French philosopher, Albert Camus distinguishes that cruelty is the use of intentional power destined to harm those who can not defend themselves, while the power used against the perverse is that of the spirit, the good one.

Just as there are more free people than others, there are countries that are freer than others. Freedom is often the gift of our ancestors converted into values.

But this freedom, as I said, can be stolen by tyrants. In that case, it's time to reconquer it and rebuild it when it is acquired again.

I live in Venezuela, a country plunged into the worst tyranny it has ever had in its history. There is no freedom of expression and food is scarce. The presence of the dictatorship is felt in all the spaces of all the towns and cities that it has destroyed carrying the plague of the ruin. One way to defeat it, could be reading a book, finding a way to do something that has become a luxury, like going to the movies or eating in a restaurant.

They are very small victories (indeed). A bigger one is being able to leave the country, but when you do, you become a refugee.

And you know what that means?

Yes, exact, that the country is loaded like a hump on the back.

I hope that one day my country can achieve freedom. I think we are very close to achieving it. I have faith. Simple faith Only that.

"... all of us are on the edge of the cliff, and it takes a lot of strength, a lot of strength, to walk hesitantly on the edge, looking from one side to the other, down in the stormy darkness, without being able to guess, through the yellow and stinking mist, what's in the mud in the bottom, in the mud that oozes like vomit ... "

Sylvia Plath