radio static ; technoblade

the 37th president.

A Brief Inquiry Into... [missing guidance]

Stepping one foot into San Francisco, you'll immediately catch the number of crackpots covering the lengths of this city's roads.

There were people who looked like they haven't showered in days, their hair greasy and outgrown, feet barefoot against the burning hot concrete. Lastly, if you look past their technicolor lenses, you can see that these motherfuckers are stoned out of their god damned minds.

Along with society, I've labelled this sub-genre of social rejects, 'hippies.' They've spread their anti-war, "peace and love" criminal propaganda all over the city. It's like poison to the brain reaching the minds of the public with their herd mentality; Everyone just follows along.

"I have Sapnap, Bad, and George undercover at Golden Gate Park. That way they'll be there to bust them down the moment they resort to i dunno... violence...? Drug dealing?"

"Solid."

"You wanna head down there later and see it for yourself?"

The laugh I let out was gnarly, "Funny joke but I wouldn't be caught dead whiffing their yippie air. One inhale of that shit's probably enough to get me totally baked.

He laughed along with me from the other end of the telephone. It was easy to find ways to ridicule the nonconformists; they've practically done it to themselves.

Dream's laughter crossfaded into a less energetic sigh, saying "The news have been brutal with me lately. Have you seen?"

"They're tearing you to shreds, brother. Are you sure this war is what we need as a country. I mean- you've seen the protests."

"I-I've gotta make some negotiations with Prime Minister Soot this evening." The tone of his voice changed along with the topic very obviously.

"Dream, they started dragging my name through the mud just by association. Everyone's saying you aren't fit enough to lead this country. It's only been the first year of your four-year term!"

"We'll talk later. My flight to England's in a bit."

Ever since his election, my brother's had a large target on his back. Our country's relationship with the UK hasn't been the best since the revolution of 1776. Additionally, their Prime Minister happens to be a raging nationalist, and there's nothing more contradictory than my own brother's pride and ego.

"Be careful with what you say. We already have shit with half of Vietnam. Last thing you should do is declare war on that British hag."

It's been around 155 years since the last war with the English.

"That shouldn't look like a possibility yet. However, it would surely help their case if Prime Minister Soot would comply with my requests, wouldn't it? Well, anyways I'll see you soon, okay y/n?"

"Wait Dream, when is soon-" the line went flat. "i miss you." I sighed, even though there wasn't anyone else at the other side anymore.

Having the responsibility of leading an entire nation is a high-pressure, significant position. That's why I understand that the president can't always have time for me.

But sometimes, as selfish as it is, I just want my brother back. You'd think that during the dozens of times he's been by the Bay Area, he'd be able to stop by my place at least once.

I live in a massive San Francisco bungalow just a block away from the seas, but the fact that there's all this vacant space only emphasizes how truly lonely I am.

I sunk into my couch, propping my legs up onto my coffee table unmanneredly. There was no one there to scold me anyways.

With a push of a button, my television system flashed on. It was all monochromatic, so I guess I dream to see the day when I can see this part of the world in colour.