I Imagine As I walk through the crowded halls with voices echoing off walls and in my head I think about

everything that has ever transpired in my life. The good and the bad. It's all a part of me. The influences in my life are a direct result of the culture I was raised in. The culture I was raised in is in fact a direct result of the morals passed down from generation to generation, slightly altered as days pass to come across as acceptable in the mainstream society and the majority of the thinkers and the do-ers and the stockholders. I also wonder what would happen if I did not live in this country we all identify ourselves with. What would my morals be? Would I have any sense of morality whatsoever? Would I have religion? Imagine a world where life is lived according to his or her own will. Some say that is life in America, but I beg to differ. There are so many things that are carefully calculated and implemented to bring us all down and stop our minds from thinking and realizing the terrible truth. The truth is that we are not encouraged to imagine, to dream. We are encouraged to embrace facts and meaningless texts and numbers and letters like they are the same as the bread and water we use to sustain our own lives. We are taught to regurgitate jargon that we as human beings, as creatures designed by the Creator himself, have no cosmic or real use for. Memorizing the periodic table does nothing for your health or well-being, to be frank. In all honestly, my American experience is to rebel against the norm, to rebel against the facts and the figures presented to me by the government machine, whose only purpose is to perpetuate its eternal brainwashing system over all who live under it. The usefulness of secondary education is ephemeral. What is the purpose of learning about things we have no use for? As a teenager in this system, I have only begun to open my eyes to the methods that are being used to stifle creativity, the methods that are being carried out to take away our own free will, it seems. But then again, my American experience is far from over. There could be some sort of revelation I have down the road that everything that ever was and ever will be in this country was useful, that everything served some sort of meaningful purpose, that it wasn't just a machine created to turn its methods of suffocating human thought into a never-ending continuum. But then again, maybe not. Maybe I'm right. Sometimes when it comes to the experience of existence and metaphysics itself, I question America. Are our thoughts and ideals about the existence of being itself different from those across the Earth? What about the cosmos? There are even different opinions and ideals across the country, so there must be a vast difference across several thousands of miles. Think of the possibilities of differing opinions across millions of light-years. Life has to exist somewhere else besides our solar system. Do others across the world value existence with the same importance yet carelessness at the same time? Do cosmic beings even experience existence like we as humans and not just Americans do? The American experience in general is also one of ungratefulness, ignorance and hypocrisy. The American experience is all these things simply because I want it to be. It's what I feel. I can control my own thoughts and my own actions and my own feelings, as I am not yet claimed by the machine. Not only is the machine the government, but it is the media. The media controls and brainwashes those not yet claimed by the government. The American experience is one of observation, osmosis and suppression. You can think of the human mind as a selectively permeable membrane, with the strength of the permeability affected directly by the presence or lack thereof, of the machine. You can always tell who has been claimed or not. Those who have been claimed tend to go with the crowd, the general opinion, and whatever everyone else is doing and thinking and never formulate real opinions and ideals for themselves. This is not to say they are empty shells of people although outwardly it is possible to think so. They are simply suppressed, although when they are gone, they are gone for good. There is no re-claiming individuality and self-expression

from the omnipotent machine. The American experience is everything. The American experience is nothing. It is positive and negative. It is light, and it is dark. It is push and pull, Ying and Yang. Depending on the direction you take towards the light or towards the darkness, this important decision will result in your blossoming into a world of nirvana, thought, creativity, and expression or your plummet into a dark pit of monotony, and a conglomerate of everything everyone ever wanted you to believe about existence and what should and shouldn't be. You might say I'm paranoid, or crazy, but you can look outside yourself and you can see it. You might say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join me, and the world will live as one.

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