I Had a Dream, I Had an Awesome Dream


(I haven’t written in ages. Okay, sitting down.)

I had a dream last night that I had actually put my hat in the ring to run for President in 2016. Not to win, of course, and certainly not as a prank – well, not in the classic “prank” sense.

In my dream, my brain was apparently pondering over the fact that Trump’s largest appeal among his (admittedly trogloditic) supporters is that he speaks his ugly ass-mind and he doesn’t backpedal that shit when he does. While what he says is genuinely revolting to those of us who truly care for the poor and oppressed, it’s actually an almost impressive quality we don’t often see in politicians. Now, of course, the reason he does it is because he’s a narcissist with zero empathy.

Anyway, in my dream, my goal was not to seriously run or actually imagine I’d win. My goal was to get in front of a national audience and speak honestly and from the heart, both for myself and for those like myself, who wish we could change the world for the better. The ones who, to paraphrase Morrissey, sit in our rooms and draw up our plans. I wanted to stand at that podium, with a national audience, admit and voluntarily confess my own shortcomings and personal indiscretions, and explain my hopes and aspirations for this country that I call home. I wanted to invite anyone who might be watching or listening to embrace their true selves, love their quirks, celebrate their kinks, and acknowledge that we are, by and large, a nation full of amazing individuals who have been suppressed for far too long by a society that loves to talk about bravery and freedom and independence but actually condemns anyone who is genuinely “different.”

I wanted to remind everyone that we had one brief moment, after the tragic events of September 11th, in which our differences were erased and we were all just one in mourning, but also in acknowledging that life is fragile and temporal, and that the things that seem to divide us are actually surmountable. In that one brief moment, we were tearfully, and to some extent, joyfully, one. And almost the entire world – in that blink of an eye – joined in our grief and declared themselves “American” as well. That brief moment was exploited – cynically and intentionally – by the worst this country has to offer, and no other tragedy could unite us all as September 11th did. Since then, this nation has divided itself more than ever, and the rest of the world would probably be happy to simply get rid of us if it could – there are a substantial percentage of Americans who are now somehow proud of this. That’s what truly breaks my heart – that the selfish and the tyrannical appear to be winning. All “funny ha-ha look at the rich idiot with the toupee” aside, Donald Trump is a proto-fascist. Encounter a cruel, horrible American in a political discussion online, and 9 times out of 10, that person is a Trump supporter. He caters to the worst in America, and the fact that he could actually win a presidential election gives me horrifying pause.

Anyway, my presidential announcement would begin and end with a call for those who feel as I do, who feel America could be so much better but feel powerless to alter the seemingly psychopathic course that this nation is on, to rise up in whatever way they can, claim and celebrate their uniqueness, admit their faults and shortcomings, be honest with each other, and push the tide of hypocrisy and psychopathy and greed back into the tar-pits from whence it crawled.

I would then yield back the balance of my time and leave the podium.

My dreams are idealistic, yes, but idealism is what keeps me from shuffling off this mortal coil of my own volition. I can’t allow myself to be so ‘realistic’ and jaded that I abandon all hope.

And I’m not the only one.