Immigrant Guilt: Living the American Dream

I’ve been up since 8 sitting in bed and watching videos. I only decided to get up because McDonald’s breakfast ends at 10 30 and now, I’m back in bed lounging about. Sometimes, I think, what would my ancestors and the people who came before me think about how lazy I am? I think everyone who is a 1st or 2nd generation immigrant has that immigrant guilt. Like, when they were running through the jungles of Laos, dodging bullets and jaguars ( I don’t know if there were jaguars. It’s not like I know that much about Laos), were they thinking ‘someday, my progeny is going to have the chance to do great things,’ and meanwhile, I’m just here eating my Egg Mcmuffin. It’s delicious. It tastes like hard-earned freedom. But you know what? They didn’t know about how great Youtube was. Or about how entertaining Netflix could be. They came from a time and a place where if half your children survived, you were considered lucky. And I do consider myself lucky, because I could not have made it in the rice paddies of Laos. I have Rosacea, which makes me allergic to the light, and Asthma, which means I’m weak as well. I would be the most useless person ever there, but not here. Here, it’s like I was born to watch Netflix inside my air-conditioned home with the blinds drawn while eating fast food. So, I have to thank you for risking your lives so I can do what I excel at: nothing.

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