as interpreted by me, is nothing like the American dream politicians incessantly cite to garner support from potential advocates, voters, funders, et cetera. A few parts of it are similar, but my vision of the American dream is significantly different from the standard idea. I can hardly imagine this matters to anyone but myself, but I’m okay with that — again, this is me talking to myself. I can use tumblr as a personal journal sometimes, right? Right.
I don’t see it as a beacon of hope for potential newcomers to the country to take advantage of. I don’t see it in the romanticized traditional light; the idea that anyone can come to America, get a well-paying job, and start a family. That’s boring to me. Not necessarily unimportant, but definitely boring.
No, I see it way differently. I see it as something that thrives in very few members of the population. I feel like the vastness of America has either forgotten it, abandoned it, or ignored it. Quite simply, bluntly, and plainly, I see it as the ability to do whatever the hell I want. Completely disregarding the economy, the deterioration of nature, the outlandish number of murders that occur every day, and all negative things in general, I see America as this generous bosom of opportunity that I was lucky enough to be born in. I feel like I fell on this lap of opportunity. And don’t, for a second, think that when I say “opportunity” I am speaking anything of jobs or money or financial security. I don’t give a shit about any of that, and that doesn’t fit into my American dream. When I say opportunity, I mean the opportunity to, like I said, do whatever the hell I want: I could go be homeless in Santa Monica and play guitar for scraps, and live on the beach. I could ride freight trains and live in Anarchist squats. I could work in a factory for a long time, then go have a blast in another city. I could get my music heard by a very large audience. I could go to college and get a degree and get a well paying job. I could go swim in the Mississippi. This is what I mean by opportunity; I see America literally as the land of opportunity — a land in which there are millions of paths I could travel down, and millions of things I could experience. Needless to say, other countries of course have some degree of this sort of opportunity, but it isn’t the same. It doesn’t have the attitude.
I’ve kind of lost track of what I was saying, and I don’t really have a desire to say anything more. Let me reiterate that I am talking solely of my American dream; no one else’s. I am not saying it is righter or truer than any other vision; again, I am just talking to myself.
I suppose I’m patriotic is some distorted mutant way. I am patriotic for the land itself I live on, not the politics of its occupants.
