csi:sheltered

Sober kids are the good kids,
Sheltered, kicking back
With their minds
Powered by PlayStation
And Quenched on Pepsi.

While they never engaged
In any kind of fist fight,
Despite mimicking
mortal kombat moves
Infront of the mirror–
But they will rip apart
Any facebook thread
Made by Becky’s soccer mom
(Followed because she’s actually kind of hot)
Over her mulish support
And patriotism she suddenly acquired
Upon the inauguration of our president.

Those are the kids
Making sex jokes
As they fap to anime chicks
And getting lit,
While the only thing
They have ever used a lighter for
Was to light their own birthday cake–
Oh, they also managed
To burn their thumb.

Sheltered kids, quiet as they are
Can be quite fun too,
Just give them a chance
To be normal too.

—  Sheltered kids

I armed my twin daughters with shotguns, gave them some ammo and armor and sent them out in the wasteland to scavenge while me and the wife stayed in the shelter sleeping and taking showers… When they got back they had killed 9 people, subdued 5 other people and had a full inventory full of materials, food, water, ammo and fuel… Their stress bar didn’t move an inch…

I now fear my own children over the apocalyptic wasteland.

— 

3 hours on Sheltered

archiveofourown.org
Sheltered
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Sam is a kind volunteer at a homeless shelter and soup kitchen, which gets its fair share of drifters. Clarence is an extremely well-educated Russian-born man who needs help. Sam gets to work meeting the man’s basic needs, and all the while, they each begin to suspect the other has quite a story to tell. 

For one thing, Sam becomes convinced that Clarence is not even his real name.

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.
—  Anais Nin