4th of July and the Myth of Freedom

A slightly inconvenient reflection on independence

I rarely talk about politics or world events because, one, I am not interested in the theatre of it all and, two, I prefer to watch a movie where, at least, no one pretends they are not acting.

But today is the 4th of July and tradition says Americans celebrate Independence Day.

I wonder how many Americans actually feel independent today (genuine question).

I also wonder what are they celebrating exactly?

Historically, it was a rebellion against the British Empire, right? A declaration of independence. A refusal to be ruled from elsewhere.

And then America started doing exactly the same thing they rebelled against.

Weird.

Then there’s the famous sentence: “all men are created equal” written in that declaration 🤔

Errr… it has been 250 years and that sentence is still simply not true and a deeply sarcastic joke.

I don’t find it funny.

Because what does freedom mean for you?

Not as an American or a British or a Japanese. As a person, as a human being.

Do you think you’re free?

Free from what? Free to do what?

We’re not even free from our own minds, let alone from this soul-sucking system that feeds itself from our attention, our fear, our desire, our outrage, our labor, our loneliness and our silence.

What does freedom mean when so many people are still afraid to live honestly?

What does freedom mean when telling the truth makes you difficult, dangerous, inconvenient, censored, punished, or, in some cases, prosecuted?

What does freedom mean when people are allowed to speak, but only if they say the acceptable thing?

What does freedom mean when so many are still trapped inside marriages, jobs, identities, countries, algorithms and roles that no longer feel alive?

Why are we still celebrating a lie?

The desire for freedom is beautiful but I find this type of celebration really contradictory. It is not reality, is more the performance of a myth.

Just food for thought.

Bear in mind that I don’t celebrate: Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Valentines Day, Black Friday, Easter Sunday, Halloween, Prime Day or any other day where the collective suddenly decides what I am supposed to feel, buy, post, remember, desire, forgive, decorate, consume, or pretend.

I don’t like being told when to be grateful, or romantic, or festive, or patriotic.

And, by the way, I am on the sparkling water today so no cava or tipsiness going on.

I am actually shattered because I am still painting my bloody fence but I fancied to sit and write this reflection just before bed.

Don’t hate me if you are an American celebrating 🙈

Or do, that is your freedom I suppose.

“Happy Saturday, 4th of July”.

Love,

Eva :)