I can't help but be concerned for you, but I understand when you don't want to talk about stuff. You know how much I love you, and I'm pretty much positive you love me the same, so I'll trust you on anything. You never have to thank me for understanding.

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At Operation Gratitude I was among The Others. The women with the blonde hair and the child-bearing hips, and the men with the portly build and American flag shirts. All of them screaming "support the troops" when they really want to say "kill the infidels." Four hours of stamping boxes, you cap yourself. You sedate yourself from the inside out, dressing up with that quiet optimism that helps you blend in.

But inside it was thoughtcrime. Looking at the "What are you doing for your country?" pamphlet, I could have smirked but... that would have been facecrime. God knows what would have happened. I could see it in them: "Jesus, guns, and the USA." (preferably in that order.)

Since when did you and I become thoughtciminals? we just don't belong.