The Fire We Fed: An American Nightmare

 I have never had a dream about aliens, but it happened two days ago. In my dream (so vivid it clawed into my waking hours), aliens had taken over America. But they weren’t strangers from another galaxy. They were us.

In my dream, we didn’t recognize each other anymore. The lines that once connected us—neighbors, family, shared values and goals had all been blurred, burned away by a fire we ourselves had started.

The air was thick with smoke, and everything, everyone was inside a big pot. Flames surged, fueled by hatred, fear, ignorance, and greed. Some areas of the pot were hotter than others. Nonetheless, the heat distorted all of our faces. Some screamed, but many were silent. Some aliens looked on blankly, unbothered, while others writhed in agony.

And then there were the human firestarters; they intentionally started the fire and struck the first matches. The firestarters thought their actions were unknown, but we knew. There were everyday citizens who turned a blind eye when it mattered most. Others were leaders—elected not to divide, but to guide—who chose power over purpose, ego over empathy. Men and women in power who passed President Donald Trump’s “Big, Beautiful Bill” while knowing the damage it would do to the most vulnerable amongst us. Leaders in every branch of our government who have forgotten that leadership is stewardship, not spectacle. They were trusted to lead not merely to ogle the atrocities which now besieged us.

These leaders fanned the flames with reckless policies, hate speech, lies, and apathy. Their failure emboldened others worldwide. Tyranny surged in distant lands. War between Russia and Ukraine intensified. Children in Gaza starved. America became both mirror and muse for the world's cruelty.

But the firestarters forgot one thing: Fire has no loyalty. It consumes without distinction.

And soon, the fire they set began to burn them too.

The ones who thought their money, their gated communities, or their status would shield them were shocked to feel the heat intensify. The inferno does not care who started it. It only knows how to spread. And it spreads when we refuse to see, when we pretend that the smoke isn't rising.

Real lives are burning. Floodwaters in Texas stole the lives of children who will never return home. Entire families now carry unspeakable grief. But most of America seemingly moved on by the next news cycle. This is the true tragedy. Not just the disasters, but our failure to care about innocent children who depend on us to craft policies to protect them and who expect us to be big enough to move beyond party affiliation because their lives are at stake. They are gone and our response is to point fingers and yell at each other.

We’ve grown numb. Wrapped in our comfort. Drowning in division. Forgetting that the strength of a nation is measured not by the wealth of its richest, but by how it treats its most vulnerable. To abandon low-income families, to hoard resources, to vote selfishly, to scroll mindlessly past suffering, that is the fuel of the fire.

We are all in the pot now. The only way out is together. We must remember each other’s faces. Douse the flames with empathy. Elect better leaders and be better citizens. Because the fire will not spare us. And no one wins when we burn together.

Lou