The Loop of the American “Dream”
Here I am, stuck in America’s “dream.”
Loop… loop… loop.
Just another cycle.
Just another rinse and repeat.
Going in circles like a load of laundry.
Nothing new, just repeat. Same thing over and over.
That’s what my life feels like.
A cycle with no exit.
Go to work, go home. Go to work, go home.
Clock in. Clock out. Clock in. Clock out.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Loop… loop… loop.
Living just to work.
Working just to survive.
Fourteen paid days off a year if you’re lucky.
And if you’re even luckier, you can afford to travel somewhere out of state.
Escaping the “dream” for just a moment.
And then?
Loop… loop… loop.
But that’s the catch, isn’t it?
The catch to this “American Dream.”
More like the American Bullshit.
Tell me, how is it normal for someone to work two or three jobs just to afford groceries?
How is it normal for people to live paycheck to paycheck in the so-called richest country in the world?
America, the “richest country”… Hmph.
I call bullshit.
We just have a lot of rich people here.
And those rich people? They aren’t rich because they worked harder.
They’re rich because the system is built to protect them while punishing everyone else.
But this is the American Dream.
Why do I have to give up my best years just to “earn” the right to relax at 65?
Why does happiness have to be delayed until my body is already worn out?
And why in the hell does everyone ask, “What’s your dream job?”
Why would I dream of labor?
Since when did we start romanticizing work? Since when did survival become a goal?
I am no freeloader.
I believe in balance, in the universal law of “if you take, you must give.”
I deserve a life where I can share my talents and still live comfortably.
I have never cared about extreme wealth or living in a big mansion.
My dream has always been the life of a nomad, maybe a bit of a bougie one.
I want to see the world, but that takes money.
I want to focus on my art, but that takes money.
I am not meant to live the life of a struggling artist.
That’s just not my cup of tea.
Shoutout to the ones who do, though.
I just want the basics.
Clean food. Clean water. Clean air.
A home I pay for that is actually safe, actually livable, actually affordable.
Is that really too much to ask?
Or is that just too much to give?
They tell us to work hard. To grind. To earn our rest.
They dangle the dream just out of reach,
whispering that if we push a little harder, maybe—just maybe—we’ll make it.
But no matter how hard we run, the finish line keeps moving.
And so, we wake up. We clock in. We go home. We sleep.
We wake up. We clock in. We go home. We sleep.
Loop… loop… loop.
Here we are in America’s “dream.”
Loop… loop… loop.
