'member berries.

Oh, America.  I remember you when you were a bad motherfucker.  You didn’t have to tell everyone how bad you were, though, because that wasn’t the classy move.  You always had a gleam in your eye and a slight smirk, just under the surface.  I mean, you’re my favorite - if I don’t count summers in PEI, Canada.  Those are remarkable, too, but no comparison to what you have to offer year round.

I remember when as a youth, you grew tired of the yoke that was placed across your back.  You rose up!  You cleared the board, with a little help from some friends, but you did most of the hard, back breaking work yourself.  You were too young to realize just how big a feat that was at the time, but you know.  You created a new paradigm.

I also remember that time when you had some leadership issues on the team, but with due diligence, your best always rose to the top.  You are so beautiful when you exceeded your goals and rose to greatness!  

Remember that time when you were torn in two?  And what did you do?  You fought.  Hand, tooth, and nail - by God!  You fought and you pulled through.  Although the infection was deep, you barely flinched.  Happy to be whole again, you grew.  

You grew by creating shelter for the tired, the poor and the huddled masses.  You extended your heart to the victims of tyranny worldwide.  You began to reach out, and in the name of Freedom and Justice, you lashed and railed against evil, and you always won.  You.  Bad.  Motherfucker.  You.

Remember the first time you heard the world cry out in pain?  You assessed the situation, calmly.  Once you had your bearings, you reached out.  Not with a swat, but with a fist.  You once again broke the back of tyranny, against half of the world, and you rose once again to the occasion.  You brought with your fist and fury a backlash of kindness, caring, and understanding.  You helped fix what others broke.  You showed your heart.

Oh and I remember that other time when the world once again cried out in turmoil.  You heard the call but you tried not to get into someone else’s fight.  You tried to remain neutral and allow others to do unto themselves as they saw fit.  You did try.  But they didn’t let you.  You took the first punch, square on the jaw.  It stung, we all saw it in your eyes, but the rebuttal was ferocious.  You unleashed hell upon your enemies until they were not only beaten but broken.  You crushed empires.  

One would think that’s what makes you a badass, America.  But nope.  That’s not it.  This next part is.  You took the broken bits of the world.  The deepest harmed from the ravages of war, and you rebuilt them.  You took the pieces that were left, and you polished them and set them aright amongst the rest of the world.  You led by example.  You bad, bad motherfucker.

But America, it’s time.  We must talk.  You don’t seem yourself these days.  I don’t think it’s due to your friends’ influence.  And although you deny it, I don’t think it’s because of how much time you spend at church (but let’s be honest, you’re kind of bipolar on that issue).  Genuinely, I think you’re sick.  You got really good at war, which is great if you have an enemy to face, but in order to stay good at war, it seems you started looking for a fight where ever you could find one.

Now - wait.  I haven’t forgotten what they did you.  I know about your towers.  My heart breaks into tiny pieces every time I am reminded of that savage act.  You were pissed.  You got even angrier, but then something changed.  You got cold, America.  You got mean and you got very selfish.  It’s as if you forgot your upbringing, how you were able to grow like you did when you were younger.  

I know, they hit you first.  I get it.  But come on.  You got yours in.  You overturned a regime that had nothing to do with it.  I mean, in all fairness - you did get the bastard that did it, but you had to be a jerk about it.  You gloated like an asshole, and you taunted that guy’s friends.  How old are you?  You were raised better than this.

This new American attitude of Right by Might is so out of character for you.  It’s like a big orange wig.  It’s blatantly obvious to those of us that love you.  And baby, I do love you with all of me.  You haven’t been yourself for some time, and at this point, I’m worried about you.

I see the inner struggles you face daily.  While I know your heart, your actions are not portraying the nation I grew up loving.  I miss the old you.  The you where kids would play on the streets until the street lights came on.  The you where paths to innovation were wide open and not heavily regulated.  The you that left other nations alone, because you know you have no business being the world police.  

You’re a lover, not a fighter, America.  Just because you’re really good at fighting doesn’t mean you have to show the world, daily.  My fear is that eventually, you’ll forget how beautiful you are and take actions that will harm not only yourself but all of those that you hold dear.  America, it’s out of love that I ask you to please calm down.  You have definitely made your point.  It’s high time we get back to doing what you started out doing.  

Pursue happiness instead of trying to impose democracy.  Let’s focus more on creating and less on breaking.  Would it not be great, to be Great again?  I implore you, my dear friend:  Please get help.  Take up a new hobby.  Remember baseball?  That was fun.  

Anyway, I’m going to say good night, old chum.  It’s been a long day, basking in the glow of your freedoms, eating whatever pleases me, when it pleases me.  Bathing in water clean enough to drink and zoning out under the warm spray for 10 minutes, wasteful but bliss.  Thanks for being a real pal, America.  Get well soon.  You bad motherfucker, you.