Trump cannot and will not admit he’s a loser. Allow me to do it for him. This is his third time running for president, and up until now I’ve been following him with angst and anger, but still following him. With a beautiful wife, five children we know of, and millions of dollars (although bundles are earmarked for court fines), it’s not enough.
He wants us to love him too. Despite his wealth, Donald Trump is currently the neediest public person I know, a walking, talking, haranguing, lying egomaniac.
But I’m out. I’ve never supported him, but I’ve followed him through his first campaign, his presidency, and on and on and on. I’ve sat in front of the TV, slack-jawed, listening to him.
Enough. I’m out. I’m not having it. I’m old now and after writing this, I’m not exposing myself to the chaos and lies anymore. It’s not good for my health or my soul. I’ll vote against him, but that’s it.
I wonder if I’ll feel a loss. A few times in my life I’ve heard someone say, after suffering a loss, “It was all I had.” It’s an unbelievably sad statement, especially when you’re surprised, when you didn’t know, when the loss is something or someone who cannot be replaced.
I don’t want to be the person whose disgust with Trump is “all I have.” Will I turn off the TV when they’re talking about Trump? Will I leave the room when friends and family begin a “Trash Trump” session? I don’t know. I’m something of a political junkie. I don’t know how it will feel to step back. But I must.
By the way, prepare for another “stolen” election claim when he loses.
It’s perhaps even worse when the person who loses cannot mourn and move on. How will I comfort myself after such a loss? There are things a person can say or do to make up for a loss, but you probably won’t reduce the pain or the need of a person who is unable to admit or feel the loss. In some cases nothing will fill the void. The needy person will keep trying, often inappropriately, to fill the void. Such is the void within Donald Trump’s need to rule us, not govern us.
Trump can’t stand to lose. He even had a TV show called The Biggest Loser where he strutted around like a potentate in an overcoat — private elevators, limousines, insults. He created a tele-drama about losing, perhaps to help him beat back his own fear of losing.
Now he keeps running for the highest office in our country. He needs to win to avoid the pain of losing, even if it means punishing us with four more years of his anger and neediness.
I expected to feel volcanic shocks all the way to Chicago when Trump’s million-dollar-plus fine payments started bouncing, but they didn’t bounce! Maybe he really is as rich as he says he is. If so, all that money is not making him happy; he feels the need to win one more time, to punish his enemies (that’s people like us, Oak Parkers) one more time. Don’t be surprised if he declares himself President for Life. (Can you picture him being wheeled to the dais in a solid gold wheelchair?)
His family, except for the chuckleheaded older boys, seems to have stepped back, way back, including the slithery wife, who may actually live with their son in New York (my bet).
That’s enough. I will continue to be a good citizen.
I will vote.
But I’m out.