“America” (Fiction, 11/18/06) Doc. #004

The Text:

Untitled – file name: America

Written November 18, 2006 (Age 20)

Children run through the streets of the towns and cities, here in America.

All around them Americans citizens are filling their bodies with mindaltering substances. But the children, they are safe. Some of them don’t even know what drugs are and so they could not possibly be harmed. Others no to just say know. <-(Clever.) And some of them aren’t really children anymore, so it doesn’t matter to them who does what, they’re just going to do what they want. And so the children are safe as long as the Americans don’t figure out how to make money by pretending to be children.

Sometimes the children are alone, by themselves, together, here in America. They sit in empty houses with each other. All around them American citizens are fucking and lying and fucking people they know they shouldn’t. <-(A bit extreme, perhaps?) But the children, they are safe. Some of them don’t even know what sex is and so they could not possibly be harmed. Others know that abstinence is the only way to fully protect yourself from STDs. Or they’re just so ashamed of their bodies that they could never let anyone see them naked. And then there are those the ones who are not quite children, and again it doesn’t matter, they’ll do what they want to. And so the children are safe as long as the Americans don’t figure out that there isn’t much preventing them from lying and fucking with children. (Damn, dude.)

The children lie in beds and hold each other.

Americans are scrambling in an attempt to hang on. Rushing madly they hope to bring about stability. There is so much work to be done! That is why Americans have to work so hard.

I think I am an American. I was once a child here. America is where I grew up, amid all the things that go along with being an American child. My citizenship meant little to me then. Now I feel like being an American holds so much more weight. If I am an American, am I also an American soldier? Does America do the things it does in my name?

I’m not too worried about the children acting badly. Children grow up. I’m worried that the Americans will try to enslave the children before they get a chance (to act badly? Rephrase). I’m also ashamed at how whorish popculture has become. We are disgusting animals and it is hilarious to me. <-(This just makes the narrator seem like an ass.)

I believe America is sick, or at least delirious. We have fallen under a spell that has taken away our freedom of choice. This disease is called duality: Red versus blue. Black versus White. And most importantly, good versus evil, God versus Satan. Something Americans are going to have to learn is that blue Americans are not much different than red Americans. Also, all the Americans who say they are blue or red on TV have no idea what being an American is like.<-(How so?)

Being an American is hard. Working for a living is becoming harder and harder to do. There is nothing worth doing anymore. (Bleak)


There’s definitely some talent on display here. I was immediately engaged by the opening paragraphs. The phrase “But the children, they are safe,” was quite effective in its repetition. When the ‘I’ narrator takes over, the writer does a good job of establishing the tone of the character.

The character, however, is quite unlikable. I am not saying that all characters need to be likable, but having a character so quickly turn me off with their negativity doesn’t necessarily make me want to stay with that character.

However, I would have gladly read some more. Grade: -A.


I’ve never been a huge fan of the government or the culture here in America, but the kid who wrote this had an unreasonably bleak view of the people in this country. I will admit, I still have a bleak view about certain kinds of people, but when I wrote this, I was one of those people, so I have to believe change is possible, to a certain extent.

The people I am talking about are the ones who are so convinced of the correctness of their worldview that they do not respect anyone who disagrees with them and feel they have the right to be insulting and cruel because of their correctness. It doesn’t matter if what makes them correct is “God,” or “Common Sense,” or “Freedom,” or “Tradition,” or “Sean ****ing Hannity,” what’s important is that these people are right, and if you don’t agree, you’re a heartless, moronic, immoral piece of human filth who should do the world a favor and swallow a bullet. (Can you tell I’ve been on Twitter lately?)

Now I was never quite that bad, but I had very little patience for people who couldn’t see the obvious brilliance of my beliefs and held different ones. That’s not to say I won’t still argue with you until you either give up, kick me out of your house, or fall asleep (in which case I win by default). But I will at least try to understand where you’re coming from and see if I can’t give you my own perspective without talking to you like you’re mentally deficient or somehow in cahoots with evil forces.

I know I used Sean Hannity as an example earlier, but I have met and read the words of viciously self-righteous people on both sides of the cultural divide. If you assume that most people are like the worst, most vocal people on the internet (as I did when I was 20), then of course you’re going to have a bleak view of the world. Thankfully, most people just aren’t like that. When we put down our phones and interact with each other, we find that most people are decent, or at least nice enough to pretend to be when we see them. There are even some really good people out there, too; they just tend to be kind of quiet about it.

You know, I really need to come up with some sort of sign-off…

Anyway, I hope you liked something here,

~Sean L

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