story & art by Bella Thorne

Finding a word to describe Trump’s America is hard.

 

Words no longer mean what they have always meant 
and statements are both true and not at the same time.
It’s  Schrödinger’s Dictionary.
The word that best describes our lives is uncertainty.  
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What will happen next?
Will it be something ridiculous that causes helpless, eyerolling laughter?
(Covfefe anyone?)
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Will it be incredulity as those around you discard facts and reality
with no explanation but willful ignorance?
They sat next to you in history class. They know this isn’t true.
It’s like living through Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
(the original movie, of course – although Donald Sutherland was very good in the remake.)
You realize that they know it, but they choose to ignore the truth to grasp at something more sinister.
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Like walking through Camp Crystal Lake in a bloodied white tank top, 

it’s saying goodbye to people you cared about because you can never see them quite the same way again.
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It’s being a less preposterous version of Jigsaw despairing over humanity
in your disappointment when you realize that love, equality, and respect are viewed as weaknesses 
instead of the strengths that you were taught, and believe they are.
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It’s having to face the reality that 4th graders have a greater grasp on our government than our sitting president —and that they certainly have more compassion.
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It’s losing your ability to determine satire from the actual news because nothing that ridiculous and absurd

that ridiculous and absurd has ever before been uttered by

 “leaders” of our nation and that can’t have REALLY happened…..right? 
You must be lost in a Krugerian Nightmare.
It’s difficult — starring in our own collective horror movie —
helpless as other countries laugh, then stare, then gaze in horror at what HE has wrought.
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It’s the spreading ache in the pit of your stomach as you accept that this is not just a nightmare,
racism, hatred, and fear have been given a home — yours.
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It’s being told to respect your flag and watching the masses in their MAGA hats
put hands to heart in unison;
while YOU know that the stars and stripes
is tattered and torn.
Can she ever be put back together again?
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It’s the dawning realization that you are afraid to fall asleep, 
not because of a monster in your closet, 
but because you don’t know what fresh hell
will be waiting to greet you when you open your eyes.