5:00 AM – Noise from Above
You are awakened earlier than usual because the sound of helicopters has become a normal part of the city skyline. They aren’t always there, but lately, you’ve noticed more “routine patrols.” On some days, drones fly lower than they used to, scanning the streets with their bright lights. No one complains. You try to go back to sleep.
—
7:30 AM – Checking the News
You wake up, roll over, and open your phone. The first thing you notice is how repetitive the news feels, with every outlet seeming to say the same thing. There is non-stop praise for the administration’s “tough stance on national security” following the most recent domestic threat alert.
The few independent media outlets that used to criticize the government have either been driven into bankruptcy, fired, attacked, or are now ultimately labeled as “foreign agents.”
You think twice about even clicking on any of the remaining articles because you’ve heard rumors that certain sites are being monitored.
When you scroll through your social media feed, it feels oddly empty. People post selfies, food, and pictures of their pets, but no one discusses politics or real issues anymore. Trending topics are gone. A friend’s account disappeared last week after they shared an old news article that criticized the government. Maybe you could try calling them to see if they are ok, maybe it’s better if you don’t.
—
8:45 AM – On the Way to Work
Your city feels normal on the surface, but something is off.
Federal security checkpoints have become common at random intersections for cars, train stations, bus stops, and airports, with signs reminding everyone that “disloyal activity” will not be tolerated.
People wait silently in line, eyes down, scrolling their phones, careful not to cause any attention to themselves. You feel it too, a quiet pressure not to say the wrong thing. Eyes down, mouth shut.
They quickly scan your ID and belongings, then let you proceed.
—
10:00 AM – At Work
Your company recently held a “patriotism compliance” session, which was essentially a loyalty workshop.
HR made it clear: no political criticism on social media, no “anti-American” speech, even outside work hours. Zero tolerance.
One of your coworkers got called into a private meeting last month after making a joke about the president. Nobody has seen him since; you hear he was “audited.”
—
12:00 PM – New Loyalty Apps
Your phone now has a required government app that tracks “community engagement” points, similar to one in the show Black Mirror. You are now rewarded for volunteering, attending events, or sharing positive posts about the administration. You get discounts on groceries if your score is high enough. You haven’t posted in a while, and your score has dropped.
You feel a small knot in your stomach every time you open the app.
Social media is full of people “supporting the president,” but you can’t tell who is genuine and who is posting out of fear or for points.
—
1:00 PM – Lunchtime Conversation
You glance at the cafeteria menu. The regular burger and fries now cost nearly $25, thanks to new tariffs. Every meal comes with a required “Patriotic Special”, essentially the same food but packaged with a tiny flag and a government slogan, such as “Stay Strong, Stay United.”
People still chat during lunch, but it’s mostly about prices or who managed to get discounted groceries from the loyalty app. The old conversations, sports, gossip, and weekend plans are now a thing of the past. Everyone’s too busy stretching their paychecks and watching what they say.
A coworker has avoided you ever since you made an offhand joke about the security checkpoint line last week. You kick yourself constantly for letting that slip. Stories circulate about people being flagged or questioned for something they posted or said months or even years ago, and no one wants to be next.
You take another bite of your overpriced sandwich.
—
3:30 PM – Surveillance and Silence
Your phone buzzes with a notification from your bank. They’re asking for additional verification for transactions you make, which is now a standard requirement under new “anti-terrorism” financial measures.
The government says these are for national security, but you’ve noticed critics of the administration often have their accounts frozen “for review.”
—
6:00 PM – The Evening News
Your favorite streaming service now begins every show with a 30-second “patriotic” announcement. Nobody skips it.
A certain state governor was arrested yesterday, and the event was televised from start to finish, with announcers, sponsors, and music. On TV, there’s a new speech about this. The president warns of “domestic saboteurs” and praises law enforcement for all the recent arrests.
All of it feels less like news and more like an ongoing, never-ending reality TV Show. There are no debates or hard questions; just applause, smiling faces, and sound bites.
You remember when journalists used to push back, but those journalists have either been sued, jailed, or have long since fled the country.
—
9:00 PM – Quiet Conversations
Later, you’re on a video call with a friend in another state. You lower your voice, even though you’re alone in your room.
“Hold on, let me wave to the FBI agent watching this call,” you whisper.
Your friend chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that dies quickly. You both glance at your screens like you expect a third face to appear in the corner. Even joking feels risky.
Neither of you talks about politics directly anymore. Instead, you dance around the subject, using vague words like “them” and “you-know-who,” as if saying the wrong thing might trigger some kind of alert. Who knows if these calls are monitored or how long until they are.
—
11:00 PM – Thinking About Tomorrow
Before bed, you delete a meme you wanted to share online. It wasn’t even political, but you feel the risk. Instead, you write your thoughts in a journal you keep hidden. You know this is a tiny act of resistance, but it’s all you have.
Lying in bed, you can’t shake the feeling of tension.
You’re not living in open chaos. You’re still free to go to work, watch shows, and buy groceries. Daily life is .. mostly normal.
However, something fundamental is missing: you no longer feel free to express your thoughts.
It’s not the loud oppression you see in movies. Instead, it has been the quiet erosion of trust, freedom, and truth.
You fall asleep, realizing the hardest part of authoritarianism is how quickly it all starts to feel so normal.
