Today, I feel free, and my freedom has nothing to do with liberty. It is the freedom to know who I am, the reason of my existence and the peace I will have as soon as the gift of life is returned to its rightful owner. I am concerned, though, about the freedom of expression, and feel that it has expired in most countries. I have heard that it has even been buried in an unmarked grave to ascertain that nobody will attempt its resurrection. I dare you to open your eyes, for the landscape is not pleasant. And if brave enough, be compassionate, for emotions will not erase poverty or hinder injustice that pursue their relentless attempts to enslave the emotive minds by feeding it fear, and fake facts to sustain their anguish. During my youth in my native land, corruption was unknown and crime was foreign, but there was an egotist paternalism that confiscated from the youth the will to participate. Upon its independence, the country discarded its diapers and jumped from its rough cradle to run its first marathon and won.