The word “mortgage” comes from Old French. Mort, death. Gage, pledge.

Death pledge.

That’s the literal translation. You can Google it, but you’re too busy planning your “pizza on the floor” photo to show that you’ve worked hard enough to move in but haven’t yet “settled” into domesticity. Or maybe you’re planning your next house-to-home reel series.

Thirty years

Average life expectancy is 73.

A mortgage is 30 years.

That’s 41% of your entire life pledged to a bank. But it’s worse than that. Subtract the first 18 years. You’re a kid, you’re not earning. Subtract the last 10. You’re retired, or you’re supposed to be. What’s left? About 45 working years. You just handed 30 of them to JP Morgan.

Most of your adult life, collateralized.

The bank doesn’t want the house. What they want is the thirty years of your labor that the house represents. They’ve securitized your most productive decades. Packaged them. Sold them. You’re the commodity in this transaction.

You are entering a state of managed debt. You will stay there until you are old, or dead, or both.

Before coins, there were tabs

Debt is older than money.

Not by a little. By thousands of years.

The earliest written documents we have, Mesopotamian cuneiform tablets from 3500 BC, aren’t poems or prayers. They’re IOUs. Sophisticated credit systems tracking grain and silver ratios. Tabs. Ledgers. Who owes what to whom.

Coins didn’t show up until around 600 BC. That’s a 3,000-year gap. For three millennia, humans ran entire economies on credit. No coins. No cash. Just trust, obligation, and record-keeping.

The textbook tells you the sequence was: barter → money → credit.

The actual sequence was: credit → money → barter as a fallback when everything else collapsed.

Humans didn’t invent money and then figure out debt. The debt came first. The money was invented to manage it.

The story of the baker and the cobbler

The barter economy that never existed.

Every introductory economics course starts with the same fairy tale. The baker wants shoes. The cobbler wants bread. Barter is inconvenient, so they invent money. Sounds right. Its also pure fiction.

No example of a pure barter economy has ever been described. Ever. No anthropologist has found one. No archaeologist has dug one up. Nowhere on Earth, at any point in recorded history, has anyone found a society that worked the way Adam Smith described in The Wealth of Nations.

What actually happened in real communities was simpler and more human. The baker gave the cobbler bread. The cobbler remembered. Maybe he’d fix the baker’s shoes next month. Maybe his wife would help with the harvest. Nobody was standing there calculating exchange rates between loaves and leather. They were neighbors. They kept rough mental tabs.

Barter, actual barter, strangers swapping goods on the spot, shows up in exactly two situations: between enemies who don’t trust each other enough for credit, or in societies where a currency system already existed and then collapsed. Barter isn’t what came before money. It’s what happens after money fails.

David Graeber spent years pulling this apart in Debt: The First 5,000 Years. The anthropological record is consistent. The textbook story has no evidence behind it. None.

Coins were minted for conquest

Money didn’t emerge to solve the “inconvenience” of barter. It emerged to solve the logistical nightmare of paying an invading army.

You can’t run a conquest on favors. Try marching 10,000 soldiers across a continent and telling them to work it out with the locals. You need a way to quantify exactly how much grain a peasant owes the man with the spear. A unit. A ledger that travels.

Coins were minted to pay troops. Taxes were imposed in the same coins to force conquered people to use them. Suddenly everyone needs the conqueror’s money just to survive.

Coins were invented to track the debt of the conquered.

The Iroquois never needed coins. Goods were stockpiled in longhouses and distributed by women’s councils. The Gunwinggu in Australia had the dzamalag, a ceremonial exchange of cloth and spears that was closer to a social game than a marketplace.

None of these people needed to “solve” barter. Barter wasn’t the problem.

“One must pay one’s debts”

Say that sentence out loud. Feel how reasonable it sounds.

Now watch what it justifies.

In early Rome, if you couldn’t pay your debts, your creditor could legally enslave you. Or kill you. Debt law was criminal law. Your obligation to repay was a sentence, not a financial arrangement.

Conquering armies told the people they conquered: “You owe us your lives. We could have killed you. We didn’t. Now you owe.” A hostage situation reframed as a transaction.

In 1998, the IMF walked into Indonesia during the Asian financial crisis and told them to cut food subsidies, close banks, and open markets. Rice prices doubled. Riots killed over a thousand people. But the debt was legally contracted. The math checked out. The moral sentence held: one must pay one’s debts.

That one sentence, six words, has been used to justify slavery, famine, structural adjustment, and the repossession of homes from people who were sold loans designed to fail. It works because it sounds like common sense. It sounds like something your grandmother would say. And that’s what makes it so effective. The most powerful myths always do.

I wrote about how this same logic plays out through the dollar system. The machinery is different but the sentence is the same.

Flat wages, rising debt, by design

America owes more money than any country on Earth. It has never been asked to restructure. It has never been told to cut food subsidies. Its bonds get rolled over every quarter, backed by the implicit understanding that the country with the aircraft carriers doesn’t get a payment plan. It gets a tab.

Everyone else gets the IMF.

Since the late 1970s, wages have been flat. But you kept spending. Credit cards covered the gap. Then mortgage refinancing. Then home equity lines. They called it access. They called it opportunity. What it actually did was shift the economy from one where people earned and spent to one where people borrowed and owed. The piece of capitalism you bought was your own leash. And paying your debts stayed the ultimate virtue, even when the debts were designed so you’d never finish paying.

If you want to see what this looks like at the individual level, where your birth coordinates determine the price of your labor, I broke that down in The Geography of Being Broke.

Clean slates

Imagine Trump or Nayib Bukele going on TV tomorrow and saying: all mortgage debt is canceled. Student loans, wiped. If a bank took your house, you’re getting it back. You’d think the man lost his mind.

Sumerian kings did this regularly. On purpose. Every few decades, full reset. Debts canceled, land returned, anyone enslaved for nonpayment walked free. They called it “establishing justice.” It’s the same impulse that led Andrew Jackson to call the central bank a “den of vipers” before he tore its heart out.

They understood something we’ve decided to be too sophisticated to admit. Debt, left alone, eats everything below it. First the land. Then the families. Then the army. Then the state. The clean slate wasn’t a gift to the poor. It was the king saving his own throne from the math.

The Babylonians did it too. If you let debt compound without relief, eventually the farmers can’t farm because they’ve lost their land, the soldiers can’t fight because they’ve been sold into bondage, and the empire collapses from the inside. The clean slate was maintenance.

We stopped doing clean slates. We replaced them with bankruptcy courts, credit scores, and the quiet understanding that some debts, student loans for instance, follow you to the grave.

The Sumerians would find that insane.

We talk about the ancient world like we graduated from it.

We didn’t graduate from anything.

The Romans had dominium. The absolute right of a master over a thing. They applied it to slaves and to fields. A slave was a “speaking tool.” A field was a “silent tool.” Same legal category.

We never updated the framework. Modern property law still runs on Roman logic. The right to own is the right to exclude, to use, and to destroy. Your mortgage sits inside a legal tradition that was built to manage human beings as property.

The iron shackle became a credit score. The centurion became a mortgage broker. The conquered peasant became you, sitting at a closing table, signing a death pledge, and calling it the American Dream.

I don’t know what the answer to debt is. I’m not sure there is one that doesn’t involve tearing something fundamental down first.

If We All Have Debt, Who Owes Who? was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I liked this platform at the beginning, but started to dislike it very much recently, so I’m out.

There is no genuine communication happening much…

So the 1st division pub is off, and no title writing challenge is off as well…

Do not submit any new stories to this publication.

Thanks…

I just canceled my Medium subscription was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

A complete breakdown of the cheapest daily, weekly, and monthly mobile data bundles.

You can’t build a brand if you can’t upload.

The Content Creator’s Data Survival Guide. This is how to stay online, create content, and build your brand without going broke in South Africa.

I spent three weeks tracking every prepaid bundle from Vodacom, MTN, Telkom, and Cell C.

Initially I didn’t start researching cheap data prices to share with anyone. It was more personal as I have a Zero tolerance for wasting my money on certain shit.

I couldn’t believe how blind people were. Everyone I talked to was wasting money.

In broad daylight these mobile networks are “Mind Fucking” their very own customers. Tricking them with sneaky words, marketing tactics and ridiculous time-based bundles, selling them in essence just “Air” without “time”.

The Blogginglen Survival Guide to Stay Connected In South Africa.

What creators actually need.

Writing is one thing. But if you’re building a blog across Medium, TikTok, and Facebook, your data needs change completely.

Text uploads? Minimal. A 2,000-word Medium article is maybe 20KB.

Video? That’s where it gets real. A 60-second TikTok at 1080p eats 100–200MB. Uploading ten videos a week? You’re burning 2-4GB monthly just on TikToks and a Facebook or You tube video? Same Story, even more at times.

Then add the invisible data thief: You are scrolling for inspiration, checking analytics, responding to comments, researching trends, watching competitor content. That’s another 8-15GB monthly, thats on the minimum.

Smart creators need at least 25 to 35 GB of data a month.

You need a degree to know how to split your data.

Regular data for uploads and research, Social data for engagement, Bight data for editing sessions.

Who sits and thinks of up all this shit?

Anyways… here’s what I found.

The golden bundle for under-25 creators

Vodacom's NXT LVL R49 bundle gives you 4GB general use, 4GB social (split between WhatsApp, TikTok, YouTube, Facebook), plus 12GB night data—20GB total. Valid seven days.

That social split is strategic. Upload your TikTok using regular data, then scroll and engage using social data. Your 4GB lasts longer.

Night data? That's your editing window. Download stock footage at 2 a.m. Research competing creators while the world sleeps. Write your Medium drafts when your brain's sharp and data's free.

If you're under 25 and not on this, you're burning money.

The super weapon: Vodacom Super Content Bundle

Vodacom launched a R69 Super Content Bundle specifically for creators: 5GB TikTok, 5GB YouTube, 5GB general, plus 10GB night data. That’s 25GB in total for seven days.

Do the math. That's R138 monthly for 50GB if you stack two bundles. And it's built for exactly what we do: shoot, edit, upload, promote.

This bundle didn't exist when I wrote my original piece. Now it does. Use it.

Monthly strategy for full-time creators

If you're publishing daily and cross-promoting aggressively, weekly bundles won't cut it.

Vodacom's 20GB for R99 via VodaPay

This includes 7.5GB anytime, 7.5GB bonus, 5GB YouTube. That YouTube allocation? Study documentary pacing. Analyze viral structures. Learn from creators who’ve cracked the algorithm.

Then there’s the Telkom offer. 7.5GB plus 7.5GB night surfer for R99.

Similar value, better if you work late and Vodacom coverage in your area is weak.

MTN and Cell C? MTN offers TikTok-specific bundles from R5 for 100MB daily up to R50 for 1GB monthly. Cheap for casual scrolling, but creators need more firepower.

Then the bundle that’s absolute bullshit.

This bundle alone makes me want to give my phone the pawn shop for free.

Vodacom’s standard 1GB bundle for R149. One fucking gigabyte. For a hundred and forty-nine rand.

Compare that to the R99 bundle that gives you 20GB.

You’re paying 50% more for 95% less data. It’s designed to catch people who don’t know better. The digital equivalent of a poverty tax.

If you're on this bundle, you're getting robbed. Switch immediately.

Social bundles: the secret multiplier

Here’s what most creators miss. Social bundles extend your reach without killing your main data.

Telkom's social bundles cover Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, WhatsApp, TikTok, LinkedIn, Snapchat, and Pinterest with daily, weekly, and monthly options.

Vodacom's Social Ticket covers Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, Tinder, and TikTok—but check: it doesn't include WhatsApp.

Strategicly use social bundles for engagement and audience research. Save your main data for uploads and deep research. Your 15GB suddenly works like 25GB.

My current rotation

I don't stick to one network. I rotate based on workflow.

Heavy upload week? Vodacom Super Content R69 for the TikTok and YouTube allocations.

Writing-focused week? Telkom R99 with night data for research sessions.

Client calls and coordination? MTN WhatsApp bundle, R2 for 500MB daily, keeps communication alive.

I dual-SIM. Vodacom for speed and uploads. Telkom for backup and night work. If one network ghosts mid-upload, I switch instantly.

Rain for the all-day grinders

Rain offers unlimited 5G home WiFi for around R625 monthly, including free calls and data for two phones.

If you're editing video daily, hosting live streams, or uploading 4K content, Rain's unlimited model makes sense. But coverage is patchy. Test it first. Rain works brilliantly in some areas and disappears completely in others.

Not for everyone. But for creators in high-coverage zones who need to upload without panic? It's freedom.

What actually matters

Data isn't just about rands per gigabyte.

It's about buying back your ability to create when inspiration hits. It's about uploading that TikTok before the trend dies. It's about not losing a Medium draft because your bundle expired mid-research.

Match your bundles to your creative rhythm. Heavy video week? Stack social and content bundles. Writing marathon? Night data plus chat bundles for coordination.

Forget loyalty. Chase value. Test promotions. Switch networks when it makes sense.

Because here’s the truth most creators won’t admit.

The cost of cheap data isn’t just money. It’s the content you didn’t make because you couldn’t get online.

What’s your data strategy costing you? Not in money, but in stories untold, videos unseen, and growth that never happened?

© Blogginglen

Cheapest Prepaid Data in South Africa 2026 was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The Pain of “Trying and Trying”

Almost everyone knows that sinking feeling: pouring your heart into a relationship and still being met with emptiness. You try harder, open up more, show love in every way you can — yet instead of things improving, they just become more confusing.

It’s like running on an emotional treadmill. One moment you’re pulled close with warmth and affection, and the next you’re pushed away with silence, avoidance, or blame.

The cycle repeats, keeping you trapped between craving closeness and fearing rejection.

This isn’t just ordinary “relationship drama.” Psychologists call it intermittent reinforcement , a hot-and-cold cycle that conditions people to stay invested in unstable relationships.

The Push-Pull Dynamic: How It Works

At first, it feels magical. There’s laughter, late-night talks, and a connection that makes you believe you’ve finally found something real. Then, suddenly, the shift happens. Messages slow down, responses feel dismissive, or you’re left staring at silence.

Just as you begin to lose hope, the warmth comes back — a sweet message, a caring phone call, or a promise of change. For a moment, it feels like everything is fine again. But soon enough, the withdrawal returns.

This back-and-forth becomes addictive. You start chasing the “good moments,” even though they’re rare. Instead of questioning the relationship, you begin questioning yourself.

Common Behaviours in Push-Pull Relationships

Unhealthy dynamics often show up in familiar ways:

Inconsistency: swinging between affection and rejection.

Disappearing acts: hours or days of silence with vague excuses.

Minimising concerns: brushing off serious issues with “you’re overreacting.”

Blame-shifting and gaslighting: making you feel irrational for noticing problems.

Triangulation: bringing in hints of other romantic interests to spark insecurity.

Withdrawing after closeness: pulling away right after making you feel safe.

Individually, these moments may seem small. Together, they form a system of control that slowly erodes your stability.

The Emotional Toll

Being caught in this cycle doesn’t just frustrate you , it takes a deeper toll:

Chronic anxiety and uncertainty

Eroded self-confidence, as you keep doubting your own reality

Emotional burnout from shifting between hope and rejection

Struggling to move on, because closure never really comes

You may think, “If I just try harder, they’ll see my worth.” But the truth is, the problem isn’t your effort , it’s the destructive pattern itself.

Why It Feels So Hard to Leave

If you’ve ever asked yourself why you stayed so long, psychology has an answer: intermittent reinforcement is one of the most powerful forms of conditioning. It’s the same principle behind gambling addiction. You don’t “win” every time, but when you do, the rush is so strong you keep coming back , even when the losses outweigh the wins.

In relationships, those rare flashes of affection keep you hooked. You hold onto them as proof of what could be, while ignoring the reality of what is.

Breaking Free: Steps Toward Healing

If you see yourself in this cycle, know that you’re not alone — and that there is a way forward.

A few steps can help:

1. Name the pattern. Recognising the push-pull cycle helps you stop blaming yourself.

2. Set boundaries. Decide what you will and won’t accept — and stick to it.

3. Seek support. Friends, therapy, or support groups can give perspective when you can’t see clearly.

4. Rebuild self-trust. Journaling, mindfulness, and affirmations help you reconnect with your own judgment.

5. Choose closure. Sometimes healing means walking away, even if you never get honesty or accountability.

What Healthy Love Looks Like

It’s important to remember: real love isn’t a constant guessing game. Healthy relationships feel steady, not like a rollercoaster. They bring clarity instead of confusion, honesty instead of avoidance, and respect instead of blame.

True love doesn’t make you doubt yourself. It gives you the safety to be fully you.

That feeling of trying and trying, giving everything and still ending up empty , can be heartbreaking. But it doesn’t mean you’re “too much” or “too needy.” It means the relationship dynamic itself is unhealthy.

Affection mixed with withdrawal isn’t love. It’s control. And while letting go can feel scary, it’s the first step toward peace, clarity, and a genuine connection.

Love isn’t measured by how much pain you can endure. It’s shown through consistency, honesty, and care. You don’t need to earn stability, you deserve it from the beginning.

blogginglen

That Feeling When You Keep Trying — But It’s Never Enough was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

When preliminary data screams louder than final reports.

The first calculation said 2.7%

That's the number people will pretend didn't matter if they're wrong. The one they'll call "preliminary" or "outdated" or "superseded by better models." But here's what nobody wants to admit: sometimes the first signal is the only honest one. Before the committees smooth it out. Before the PR teams soften it. Before everyone decides what the "appropriate" level of concern should be.

2.7 percent impact probability isn't background noise. It's a fucking alarm bell wrapped in math.

When trajectory data, positional uncertainty, and gravitational modeling all converge and spit out a number like that, you don't get to call it theoretical. You don't get to wait for comfort. That percentage represents real configurations of mass and velocity where Earth and object occupy the same coordinates at the same time.

Early results establish the boundary of what’s possible.

They’re built from raw observations before anyone has time to massage the implications. The data went in. The calculation came out. Impact appears in enough solution spaces to register as measurable risk. Not "might someday if conditions align." Not "within the realm of distant possibility." Quantified. Now.

And yet the instinct is always the same: wait for more data. Let the number refine. See if it goes down.

If 2.7 percent is real in the first pass, then the threat is already defined. Everything after that is just watching to see if we get lucky or unlucky within an already-established danger zone.

They say that the problem with preliminary numbers is they don’t feel final enough to act on.

They feel like drafts. Like something that will get corrected once the adults arrive. But preliminary doesn’t mean wrong. It might be incomplete.

Incomplete data that shows risk is not the same as data that shows no risk. The calculation exists because the possibility exists within what we can observe right now.

People love the reassurance arc. The story where the scary number goes down as we learn more. Where refinement equals safety. But refinement can also go the other way. That 2.7 percent could become 4. Could become 7. Could become "oh shit, it's actually hitting." The direction of revision is not guaranteed to favor survival.

Ignoring the first result doesn’t erase it. It just delays the moment when someone has to stand up and say "we saw this coming and chose to wait." Every disaster has that moment in the timeline. The reading that got filed away. The warning that seemed too early, too uncertain, too inconvenient to take seriously.

Curiosity killed the poor man

I’m not saying it’s connected, but why are the ultra-wealthy quietly pouring billions into subterranean fortresses that make your panic room look like a garden shed. Some have spent nearly $500 million on single underground compounds designed to weather any catastrophe imaginable. These aren’t your grandfather’s fallout shelters—they feature spa suites, self-sustaining power grids, and oxygen filtration systems worthy of sci-fi novels.

And all of them due to be completed before 2029...

2.7℅ is the number that defines the boundary.

This is where measured risk crosses into the territory that demands attention. Not panic. Not paralysis. But acknowledgment that the math already told us something we’d rather not hear.

So maybe the question isn't whether 2.7 percent is accurate.

Maybe it's whether we're willing to act like it is before we find out we should have.

©Blogginglen

The Astriod Apophis has a 2.7% Impact Probability. We’ll Regret Ignoring it. was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What if your body betrays you before you speak?

You think words win them over.

You’re wrong.
It’s where you point.

Most men walk into a room and scatter their energy like frightened birds. They talk about confidence, but their bodies scream escape. The Compass Sign Method isn't about magic tricks or pickup lines.

It is about aligning your physical direction with your internal intent.

When you master this,

I learned this year’s after a night out at the Zulu bar in Leytonstone, London. I had been living in the UK for almost a year, and still figuring out the unspoken rules of connection. A colleague of mine—twenty years my senior, with the kind of calm soul that only comes from surviving the late 60’s permanently on a high—leaned over and told me about the compass method. He didn’t sell it.

He just said, "Watch where your feet go when you’re nervous." I tried it that same night. I was amazed. It’s subtle but it works.

That night at Zulu bar taught me that hesitation is a scent that predators and prey both smell. You cannot fake certainty when your compass is spinning wild.

The Compass Sign Method requires you to plant your feet firmly toward your target. Your hips must open up to expose your vital organs, signaling total trust. This biological signal bypasses her logic and speaks directly to her gut instinct.

When you point your feet at someone, you are claiming the space between you. It tells her that you are not looking for an out. Most guys keep one foot back, ready to pivot away if things get awkward. That subtle movement triggers her defense mechanisms instantly. She feels your uncertainty and her attraction dies right there on the vine.

I used to think this was all bullshit until I tested it repeatedly after that conversation.

I started consciously pointing my feet at women I wanted to meet.

The shift in their response was immediate and almost unnerving. They leaned in closer because my body told them I was safe and sure. It wasn't about being aggressive; it was about being grounded.

You need to understand that your body is a broadcast tower always transmitting signals. If you are thinking about checking your phone, your feet will point toward your pocket. If you are thinking about leaving, your toes will turn toward the door. She sees this micro-movement even if she cannot explain why she feels cold. You have to align your physical compass with your desire to stay.

Here is how you execute this without looking like a statue. First, plant both feet flat on the floor when you engage her. Second, rotate your hips so your belt buckle faces her directly. Third, hold that position even when there is a silence in the conversation. This creates a container of intensity that most men are too scared to build.

It feels vulnerable as hell to stand there and not fidget. Your brain will scream at you to move, to shuffle, to look around the room. Ignore that noise because that is the voice of insecurity trying to save you. Real safety comes from standing your ground when everything inside you wants to flee. That is where the lethal quality comes from—it is pure, undiluted presence.

I remember the first time I did this right after my mentor's advice. I was at a small pub near Leytonstone and saw a woman reading alone. I walked over, planted my feet, and opened my hips toward her. I didn't cross my arms or shift my weight from leg to leg. She looked up and didn't look away for a long time. The difference was that I wasn't asking for permission to exist in her space. I was stating that I was already there and not going anywhere.

This method works because it filters out the games people play with body language. You stop signaling that you are an option and start signaling you are a choice. It changes the dynamic from pursuit to invitation. But you have to be careful because this intensity can be too much for weak men. If you do this while feeling insecure, you will look creepy instead of confident.

The Compass Sign Method only works when your internal state matches your external stance.

You have to actually want to be there, not just pretend to stand still. This is why so many guys try this and still get rejected eventually. They plant their feet but their eyes are darting around the room. You cannot separate your focus from your footing without creating dissonance. She will feel the mismatch and trust will evaporate like steam. You have to commit fully or not bother trying at all.

I want you to try this tomorrow when you talk to anyone of interest.

Notice where your feet want to go when you feel nervous. Force them to stay planted even when your heart starts racing. You will feel a surge of power that comes from controlling your instincts. It is terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

You are building a reputation with yourself every time you hold your ground. If you run physically, you teach your brain that you are a runner. If you stay, you teach your brain that you are a stone. Women can feel the difference between a stone and a leaf in the wind. Be the stone that stays put regardless of the storm.

There is a deeper layer to this that I haven't told anyone yet. It involves what you do with your hands once your feet are planted. Most men ruin the perfect stance by fidgeting with their glasses or phone. There is a specific hand position that locks this method into place permanently.

I'm not going to give you that piece yet because you need to master the feet first.

If you rush to the advanced tactics, you will fuck it all up.

You need to feel the stability in your legs before you worry about your hands. Come back tomorrow and I will show you the hand gesture that seals the deal.

You have the power to change how the world responds to you today. Stop letting your feet betray your true intentions. Stand tall, point true, and watch how the room shifts around you. You are ready to stop hiding and start leading.

The real question is whether you can handle the heat when she finally steps into your life.

© BloggingLen

BloggingLen - Medium

Use The Compass Sign Method To Get Whatever You Want was originally published in 1st division on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.