Imminent peach

Dear Donald,

Thank you for coming, thank you for going.

It’s been four long years of what we could only call an extraordinary and devastating unravelling.

Yep you got the top job and what did you do with it once the thrill and the spills of the chase were up, provides ample questions for a treatise on the devolution of man, the power of power.

You barely feigned interest in the key tasks at hand. What a terrible state-of-affairs, all in all, and in the time of a pandemic, jeez eh. It’s almost like’ the greatest country on earth’ got what was coming. But did it see it coming?

And did it deserve it?

Oh my god, whose shoes do you want to be in now, blow your own trumpet?

It’s not that I won't rub your nose in it, but I do wish to share with you from the cloudy haze of perception in times when the truth is stranger than fiction – that yeah you did it, you got the top job, you played with the big boys – but the question is, how will it translate in the footnote you will make in the annals of history?

Head honcho mouthpiece, twittered into the top job, stuck to the script. Left. Destruction. Destruction. Destruction. In addition to building a wall to keep the people on either side, the literal first act signaling the devastation as a denouement, a denouement, a denouement he was a grade-A virtuoso buffoon in showing a gargantuan lack of care, a gargantuan lack of care, a gargantuan lack of care…

And, look, like a mirror to culture, he was a pussy-grabbing predator with limited capacity for careful consideration for all concerned, not especially nuanced, not especially bright, not afraid to conquer, not afraid to fight, not afraid to divide, divide, divide. He, perhaps, inadvertently inspired the hashtag me too movement. And that’s the best that could be said about him.

So I wanted to thank you Mr Trump for that. For without you and that Harvey Weinstein, that self-proclaimed sheriff of that town that is America, without you two kindred spirits we might not have had the hashtag move we have today.

In hindsight it appears, you with the top-top job, being your usual big ballsy beefy unconscious misogynist self - hackled and shackled the backs of the people provided a long-needed mirror to the present tense, the now Americans with actual choices - up their sleeves.

I want a recount.

I want to recap.

I’m presuming for you it won't be so much fun being the mouthpiece for those with the actual power, ie kin akin to Murdoch, Bilderbergs, Gates, Rockerfellers and such cronies. The true mystery. Those that shall remain anonymous when you’re facing the music. For these past four years, I just kept wondering how does this serve the powers that be, why want Donald Trump in the top job? What are they up to, what are they up to, what are they up, requiring such a grand diversion...

Played by the big boys eh, how will it feel?

Or is this ancient contempt, to feel?

No doubt it was all party of the agreement. but before you go – I wanted to express my sorrow to you as being a key piece of unconscious code. Sorry that your inevitable ancestral behaviors are leading the show. That the curtains will always come down on down.

Evolution.

Devolution.

I appreciate this may be almost impossible for you to appreciate, and I’m more than sorry that your brother drunk himself to the end. That shit must hurt. And although you topped your father in the big boy's job - that, you grew up under you father and he, under his father, the fathers riding on the sins of the father, I am truly sorry for you and your fathers program - imprinted in-utero, reinforced in childhood, rolled out in ‘adulthood’. May you upgrade the script and ask for the forgiveness that would be becoming.

In the last four years, at its best, I like to think that without you at the helm of ‘the greatest democracy’ on the planet, the hashtag me-too movement may never have arrived. And with that movement comes Black Life matters too. And so on and so forth. So, for that I thank you.

And remember, don’t forget to duck Donald, for peach is a peach, is a peach. No lies. No sweat. No tea. No less. And not in the very least, I mean my best.

Know seriously.

Sincerely,

Leah

aka Jet

aka Princess

aka Birdleaf

aka thefutureisnow