For the past year, I have lived in the United States as an international student, and I still find myself here, navigating the complexities of a country that, from an outsider’s perspective, appears to be perpetually at war with itself. America, an ever-evolving puzzle where ideals of freedom, opportunity, and justice are often obscured by the contradictions and fractures within the system. America, a place of boundless ambition, yet also one of ever-sharp divisions, where the concept of liberty itself ebbs and flows with the changing tides of the political realm. In the streets, the reality of these divisions is inescapable— an experience of tension which permeates every facet of life. I have witnessed surreal dimensions of life, where margins become invisible, and truth subject to manipulation. This is the recount of that absurdity, an attempt to make sense of the contradictions which define and determine the American experience, seen through the eyes of someone who, for all intents and purposes, is both part of and apart from it all.
America, the land of contradictions. The nation of the free and the home of the brave; but also a place with policy determined by fear, choosing spectacle over substance. A nation which proclaims liberty and justice for all, yet remains haunted by political beliefs built on fear, exclusion, and performance bravado. Under Donald Trump’s political resurgence, these contradictions have never been starker. The fight for identity, justice, and truth rages on, manifesting in shocking and surreal ways.
One might think of this as the byproduct of a simulation, a sort of tweaked performance art. Except it is not, it’s pain commodified. Americans are fed unsettling content which is built on the fear minorities are experiencing. The ASMR-style video that have surfaced online—an eerily tranquil piece featuring migrants being deported, highlighting the sounds of chains being shackled around their wrists. As unbelievable as it may seem, this paradox is reality: with the very essence of ASMR being comfort, in this grotesque production nothing is soothing. What would be soothing—soft whispers, gentle tapping—was turned into something chilling: the clink of handcuffs around wrists, the hum of engines ready to remove people’s lives from their roots. A lullaby of cruelty. Suffering is being stripped of its gravity.
These videos might have been just images when the first draft of this article came together—a couple of months ago. Time went by, and real people became part of the narrative—students, young people, neighbours. Quiet deportation breaking families apart, students being stripped of their access to knowledge, of their learning, of their degrees. And by becoming more and more common, most of these moments are overlooked, most of these people remain unknown. Yet, they represent the daily rhythm of a system that blends legality with cruelty.
And then, Gaza. Another video, another perverse rewriting of reality—an AI-generated Instagram reel starting with the ruins of destroyed cities, then proceeding to present Gaza as a dreamlike holiday destination. A place where children play and waves crash. Through this frame, reality bleeds: bodies in rubble, families ripped apart, cities gasping for air beneath the weight of siege and destruction. Behind those images lie screams, rubble, debris. Tragedy becoming an Instagram post. America’s gluttony for curated, bite-sized content transforms the world’s suffering into a mirage, making it easier to scroll past atrocity.
“When evil-doing comes like falling rain, nobody calls out “stop!”
When crimes begin to pile up they become invisible. When sufferings become unendurable the cries are no longer heard. The cries, too, fall like rain in summer.”
As Bertolt Brecht said, cries fall like rain in summer; when suffering becomes content, its meaning is drained away. The rain deepens the divide between those who endure suffering and those who scroll past it. This is not just misinformation. These images, these sounds inflict a creeping violence, manipulating and rewriting narratives which make reality unrecognisable. They deepen the separation between those who are forced to stare at pain, and those who are privileged enough to look away.
Is there anything we can do?
As critical-thinking individuals, we must refuse to be passive consumers of tweaked narratives. They must be dissected, accountability must be demanded, truth must not be overlooked. We must strive towards humanising what has been dehumanised; stories must be heard, told, shown. Action is necessary, and support is crucial. As students, citizens, humans we cannot and must not allow ourselves to be passive consumers of distortion. Critical thinking becomes a moral obligation, and we must listen to the stories on the margins. Those are the ones which have to be amplified, taught, shared. Give voice to those who do not have one.
The U.S. – together with the rest of the world – is at a crossroads. The chains we hear in those ASMR videos are not just metal; they are the chains of apathy, of wilful blindness, of some of history’s ugliest repetitions. And the mirage of Gaza is not just a video; it is a warning of how effortlessly reality can be rewritten in the age of digital manipulation, creating content that can be easily digested but that, like fast-food, will slowly erode you.
Will we continue to scroll past, or will we break free?
Just an average guy that read “On the road” a bit too soon and was led to tending to fall in love too much with too many things. Still in Bocconi, still trying to study Management of Government and International Organisations. I don’t know if I can say that I am a global citizen, I am more of a citizen that likes the globe.
