______ States of America

"United states of america"


This is something that a 18 year old boy who is growing up in the states sees all around himself. Almost as thought it's been brainwashed into his brain, and is being forced to believe it. It really is a puzzling thing that even the past two generations have seen not a whole lot of. "United we stand." Is it true? Do we, as Americans stand for each other? Or do we only believe in a lie that was once true?

I look around me, social media, politics, and just general life and civilization as it is. All these things about being politically correct about how we say things to each other,  and treating others equally. Has that become the moral focus of our equality? Has that become what we call "United?"

Again, I stare around me looking at things such as equality, racism, and sexism rip apart families in a way that is terrifying to me. Why are we letting things like that become the focus of our nature when there really is only one thing we need to focus on?

I bet you're all wondering "what do we need to focus on, Jon?" And it's going to sound really corny to you. But, it's really simple. God.

"Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red, and yellow, black and white, we are precious in his sight. He loves the little children of the world."

Now if you read that and got caught up on how scandalous that is. Shut up, take a walk, and talk to me when your mind is clear, because you are proving my point. You completely missed the focus of that song. It's not pointing out any differences in our races. It's in fact telling us that Jesus loves all of us no matter what. It's uniting us as not only a country, but a world. Take it from Jesus, he knows a thing or two about being united.

When Death is Crowned: Dream.

The deep depths of snow filled the dome with snow. It was filling up fast. What is going on? Black slowly approached the snow and caught it on fire. Soon everything was on fire. The depths of Heather’s subconscious looked just like this. She was happy here. This was her home. And it was.

Everything had taken form, it molded into her house, she knew not of what was going on. But her first thought was to run to her bed, and that is what she did. This was strange. She is controlling her dream. Could she control other things in her dream? She picked up a vase full of dead flowers and dropped it “Don’t break!” It fell to the floor, clattering around spilling the flowers on the floor. The noise echoed down the rustic looking hallway, with pictures hanging on its sides. She noticed something bazaar about the images that the frames closed in…

…Taking a step toward them, in one she could see a man pulling her up a cliff, into a white room. She looked to the image opposite. It was crooked, shaking actually. It held and image of her running away from the missile strike. Pieces of rubble flying everywhere, missiles raining from the sky, as far as she could see. Everything was being destroyed. A security van outside exploded right next to her, she didn't seem to feel the pressure of the explosion, in fact she seemed protected from it. The house was leveled behind her; there is no way that anyone came out of this alive. When the tremor hit, she watched herself fall to her knees. She couldn't help. The yellow school bus was flying toward Heather at an alarming speed. She knew what was about to happen. Heather reached her hands out and the bus lifted up.

A Helicopter she hadn't noticed flew over her head, It opened up, a man showed his face, He had a dark complexion, he was strong. He pulled out a rifle of some sort, got heather in his cross hairs, and fired. She watched as they flew away. She watched Heather’s eyes roll to the back of her head. Heather was fighting this, and making it worse. Her eyes closed at that moment. She lay there. The bus fell sideways to a horrifying stop.

She was startled back into reality with the sound of the door behind her opening. The light was shining. She only saw the shape of a female walking into the house. Wind blew from behind, as the door was forced shut. Leaves were rustling around the foyer. She was looking at the shoes of the woman in front of her. She wore Black converse with white laces, green corduroy skinny pants, and a white t-shirt. This woman had a nice sense of style.

It took her a moment. The face of the woman was familiar. She had darker toned skin, with longer face, a nose piercing, and a smaller sized pointy nose. What made her realize what she was looking at was the brown, wavy hair. She was looking at herself.

She asked the obvious question, “Where did you come from?” She didn't want to sound stupid.

Heather replied with exactly what she thought she would say “Hanging out, you know.”

“I really have no clue actually. I was just watching me, or you, or whoever it was, in a memory of mine. As though it was a movie! That’s not normal” She wondered if wherever she was sleeping, if she was sleep talking.

The other heather walked over to the kitchen, and opened the cupboard, “Why is the tea always gone?” She was disappointed with this, well, they both were.

“I need some coffee, or something to get me thinking.” She walked over to the coffee maker, conveniently already brewed fresh coffee. “Would you like some?”

The other Heather nodded, “Yes please, with cream, no sugar.”

“I know how you like it.” She said, smiling. She kind of liked this whole idea. She looked out the window, there was a field covered in tall grass, all leading up to a dead, tree.  There was someone next to it, a man, in a black tux, bow-tie, and a mask?

“Heather, hand me the camera, please.” She said this with urgency. She wasn't sure about this.

The camera was in her hands, in no time. She zoomed in on the character, who seemed to be getting closer to the window, seemed to know she was there. She focused on the mask, the white mask. And diagonally painted in red was the word “Fear.” It was working. The masked, man seemed to be moving toward the window at a slow pace, but he wasn't moving his legs. He was gently moving over the ground, as though hovering. This scared Heather, and Heather. They both panicked.

She felt a pull, a tug, as though she was on the end of a rope, a dog collar. She started to get dizzy beyond belief. Actually, everything that’s happened has made this dizziness feel refreshing, a normal feeling. Everything started to fade out. The other Heather was in a corner of the kitchen, sitting on the floor hugging her knees. She was crying. Banging on the window is the last thing she could take. Heather started screaming “GO AWAY! PLEASE!” She was sobbing. The sound of shattered glass behind her was the sound that queued her.

She was lying on the floor of a dark void of emptiness. There was nothing she could do to assist Heather with the horrors from above, or down below. Where was she? Where is she? Who is she, Heather? Who is Heather? She had so many questions, and as far as she knows she is lying 50,000 feet above sea level, on a cliff in Sweden. She knew so much about Heather, but she knew nothing about herself. She needed questions answered now. And she didn't’t know who to trust. Not even herself. 

When Death is Crowned: Incorporating circles of circular knowing.

Aton knew he only had a few seconds to react. Grabbing his grappling gun, launching it into the floor. Was she escaping? Did she know? Or is this simply a mistake? Either way he needed to save her, and he needed to do it fast. Wind was rustling through his hair, he jumped.

 She had about twenty feet on him. He needed to make this quicker. He was slacking. He folded his arms and made himself as dynamic as possible, and began his hot pursuit on Tracy. That was her name. He remembered that just now. That’s what they told him to call her. But he knew better. You don’t capture an American woman, erase her memory, and then call her by her real name. This woman was going to be an assassin.

His thoughts were racing as he finally caught up to her. He threw his arms around her. She was cold, lifeless. Was she dead? That’d suck. But either way he needed to save himself. He wrapped his legs around her, and took ahold of his grapple. And suddenly…

…It jerked. HE ran out of slack. And of course, He dropped her in the process. He reached into his coat and pulled out his whip. As quickly as he could he roped her up, and started pulling his weight, and her weight up the grapple. He heard voices from above. He was in trouble. And so was she.

“Where is she?” Trevor demanded while leaning over a table, maps sprawled out. “I know that she isn’t dead, she’s way too powerful to die by a simple missile strike like back in New York.”

It had been weeks since the incident. Nobody knows where she is yet. They already had an identity scan through the nation. And she hadn’t shown up. They suspected the Chinese. It’s almost too obvious. They are arming they’re submarines with nukes and surrounding the United States as they spoke. They were prepared for total warfare. And America was not prepared at all.

One of the Analysts spoke up, “Sir, maybe it’s the Russians. They haven’t communicated with us in weeks. We tried contacting them and there was no answer.”

That had to be it. He had no leads at the moment. He was getting desperate. He had a paint brush, a canvas, and a deadline; but he was missing paint. “Get a satellite pointed at them! We need to get David here immediately!” He pulled out his phone and dialed the number.

Ringing, Ringing, Ringing, and more Ringing. He yelled into the phone “DAVID YOU BETTER PICK UP THE PHONE OR I’LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED!” He took a deep breath.

The phone clicked, a soft voice said hesitantly “Hello?”

“David. This is Trevor Volting. And we need you to the headquarters immediately. We need you to hack Russia.”

The voice spoke again with a little more confidence, “Hold on. I’m working on something…”

Trevor could hear button mashing, Video games. This made him furious. “PAUSE YOUR FREAKING GAME, PUT THE CONTROLLER DOWN, AND GET YOUR SORRY BUTT DOWN HERE AS SOON AS YOU CAN! Got it?”

He heard clattering. David picked up his phone off the floor. Probably scared him out of his mind, chicken, “Y-y-yes sir! I’ll be there as soon as I can, Sir!”

Trevor spoke with a soft polite voice this time, “Thank you.” then hung up. Slipping his phone into his pocket he looked around at everybody in the control room. They were all motionless, literally, except for Timothy. Things were getting strange around here. And he knew then, how great each decision he makes, will impact the life of humanity. Little did he know though that every decision he makes will greatly impact the fate of the galaxy, and the stars beyond it.

Pondering twice...

I find these days that its gone from "Woman's rights" to "Woman's domination"

Those commericals and all. The wife is liks "My husband is an idiot! Ugh" thanks...thank you so much.

And the want for marraige had gone up for woman. But it has hit the tank for men. No kiddding.

I just hate it. American's take something someone says and we run with it. Run to the next extreme. Beat it to a pulp and say "it's perfect!"

Again. May i mention the ability to be equally free?