‘Why would you feel so negative, when you can look at the positives that he has achieved in his life?’ That is something I will firmly hold onto, but grief is never easy. I had to grieve on my own, away from my family, and away from university friends that I would see in the odd lecture or two, due to the online learning we were now faced with.

To a certain extent, storytelling surrounds us from prior to our birth and, if we are fortunate, till long after we are gone. Yet it is a concept many of us are afraid of; myself included until merely a year ago.

This so far, may sound perfect, but of course there’s also been those who have dropped off of my path. Some of these, I just talk to less, some I realised we were never really that close. We all have those friends in secondary school who were only friends with out of convenience, right?

Instagram on the other hand has always been a specially curated blend of my favourite things: illustrated art (mostly cats), activism and people with great style sense promoting independent stores I cannot afford. Each has served their purpose in creating a break from my relatively ordinary life, but the recent and growing blend of my three favourite contents has caused personal scepticism.

In my experience, being beside the sea is an ‘unfenced existence.’ It is quiet, it is blinding, and it most importantly offers us on its shores something unobtainable in a world where we can get anything. It is, as part of the meditation and innate calmness, stretching your eye out as far as you can see, to that flat, dark line of the horizon.

Online content is designed to be addictive. Everything on offer is based upon what you've previously shown an interest in, swiftly dragging you into the proverbial rabbit hole. I have a job now, as well as an incredibly developed sense of guilt, which means that I am not exactly comfortable with my tendency to spend hours on Youtube.

Obviously, with so much going on right now, Valentine’s Day is probably so far down the list of priorities but regardless of how you feel about the day of looooove, for many couples, I think it was earmarked for a bit of normality.

The first thing they asked me...was he a Christian? I stammered that no, he wasn’t but I didn’t see an issue and it shouldn’t matter. But, they didn’t want to know anything else. They didn’t speak to me for a week, I’d get the cold shoulder at breakfast and ignored at the dinner table.

It was like everything that had unfolded in the park earlier that day hadn’t happened. For the next week, we, Orwell and I, stayed in a blissful bubble of cuddles, catnaps, and the less-than-occasional crying session (you can’t block out reality completely).

There have been countless occasions in which the Millennial and Gen Z generations have come at a head-on collision in recent years. Many articles, vlogs, and Twitter threads outline contention points between the two generations. However, there is one thing that we do have in common: our propensity to job hop. That is, when the going gets tough (or inconvenient, or boring, or no longer interesting), we get going.

Before I am a “journalist”, a student, or anything really, I am a Muslim British Pakistani woman. This is my identity, and something I am proud of. So why, for the first time in my life, did I feel that this was something I should not try to flag up? Why did I think I would miss out on opportunities if I mentioned this, or if people were to discover this I would not be considered for that position?

The geology of the Earth is equally mind-blowing. Billions of years of history and creation sit within layers and layers of rock, some piercing the sky, others submerged underneath our oceans. In fact, some of the planet’s most awe-inspiring creations can’t even be seen above the ground.

At eighteen, my friends excitedly shared how the Facetune app could completely alter your entire figure, and face, in just a few taps. I was shocked my peers had access to this technology throughout our teen years – smoothing away acne, whitening their teeth, taking inches off their waistline. And who could blame them?

What do you think, when you think about fire? ...the flicker of a candle; the warmth of an open hearth, paired with the comfort of an oversized armchair and a good book; embers dancing above a campfire, and marshmallows; or, for the netflix junkies, the party that never happened...