Hi. I’m Richard. I’m a Londoner, living in Stoke-on-Trent, sitting before my humble laptop, and I want to say something briefly about Donald Trump. Why? Because he makes me angry. Me, and many millions of others.
Donald Trump is opposed to everything I stand for and stands for everything I oppose. Everything he says speaks of a mind in decay, and everything he does speaks of a man who is by his nature vindictive and mean-spirited.
Also, his dementia is becoming very obvious now, and it’s teamed up with his narcissism, his paranoia, his planet-sized ego and his wild bigotries to create a ravening monster, a gigantic alien beast, stomping through the world, destroying everything it can tear apart, crush underfoot, or vaporise , searching and searching for total and unassailable power. Who gets hurt, how they get hurt, or how many, doesn’t matter a single damn to him, just so long as he wins.
Winning is all, and the hell with the cost to anybody else. Let other people suffer, just so long as he’s happy.
It just doesn’t feel like he knows he’s going to die, and one day soon. I’m saying that because I’m his age; I can appreciate it if he’s frightened. But I won’t allow my fear to overtake my sense of reality. I recognise a simple truth when I see it, and that truth is this: I’ve just a short time left on this Earth; how short I don’t know; weeks, months, a few years maybe. That’s reality. I have to deal with it.
But Trump seems to think that Ultimate Power will serve as some sort of Elixir and if he drinks enough of that Elixir he’ll live for ever. So he throws his weight around – and there’s a lot of that – like a gigantic bull taking ownership of a tiny china-shop, and in the process wrecking everything he put such hard work into owning, and not even noticing what he’s done. And the lives he destroys in the process – why should he care?
He’s a desperately sick man, and his disease is infecting the whole frigging world, and the sooner he is sent packing to some prison or secure psychiatric facility where he can spend the rest of what miserable life he has left blaming everybody else for why his old age suddenly turned into crap, the better.
Now I don’t know who or how many will see this posting, let alone actually like it. Certainly not every American would be likely to, since I am a foreigner daring to speak up against their great American hero, as he sweeps his way across the North American continent, renewing it for a whole new generation of entitled white folk .
But I won’t let that worry me because I’m not quite as self-obsessed and needy as the bloated Peter Pan squatting in the Oval Office cheering on his lost boys – or Proud Boys, as they prefer to be called.
So that’s me done for the day. Feel free to comment below, and maybe subscribe.
Till the next time,