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President Donald Trump’s 59-missile attack on the Syrian Government’s Shayrat airbase over Thursday night was unexpected and could change the course of the 21st century. But aside from his claim that it was retaliation for last week's deadly chemical attack which killed 70 people,  why else could he have done it and what could the consequences be?

As I write this blog its half-eleven, I’m watching Match of the Day, drinking blackcurrant juice (all the Strongbow has mysteriously disappeared from my fridge) and doing what I usually do after a Saturday stuffed full of football action, head to Whatsapp, chat shit and generally be a terrible football fan.

Recently, Ricky Gervais came under fire for making a joke about a dead baby. For a couple who lost their infant son last July, this caused them distress, leading to them to walk out of the show. In the backlash against him, there were people claiming that it’s not something that should ever be joked about. This begs a larger question; what can’t be spoken about in comedy?

So the day it really hit home was last year. I was in my final year of sixth form, and had a tonne of A level work and studying to do the night before. As a result, I overslept the next morning. As any normal student would do, I looked up at the clock, panicked and threw on literally any clothes on in order to make it in for first period.

The last two months have been a complete nightmare for some of the citizens of Peru. I believe there is no other way to put it. 

106 people were killed and other 354 were left injured by the "Costal Kid" or "El Niño Costero", a climate phenomenon that causes heavy rainfall and has affected the countries of Peru and Ecuador. The rain has had led to floods and landslide which has left people homeless, uncommunicated and at risk of diseases. 

However, after two months of fighting, it really seems as it is slowly coming to its end. But where do we go from here?

So there is no escaping it – journalism and the news industry has been under a barrage of scrutiny for years. Following the aftermath of the phone hacking scandal and the Leveson inquiry, journalists have been well and truly under the spotlight. And rightfully so. Although the use of subterfuge is one of the few tools in a journalist’s arsenal to hold power to account, this power was abused.

The past four weeks had been filled with tears, sweat, stress and panic attacks as I tried to juggle revision for NCTJ exams and assignments. After the deadline today, I could finally sit back, relax and most importantly, catch up with my family and friends whom I’d ignored their messages from ages ago.

I turned on my iPad and my first reaction was “Great. What’s going on now?”

How often do you see people writing in their social media profile bio: ‘citizen of the world‘? I do see a lot and probably some of us would prefer to have a World Passport at the cosmoplitan age, which was founded by Garry Davis back in 1954. You can get it even nowadays for only $45, but as long as it is just a fantasy travel document, we need to identify ourselves. But how can you identify yourself if you do not feel being citizen of any country? What if there is no country you can call ‘home‘?