I really thought I'd go mad tonight
so, I went to the ocean, the sea, the coast, the edge of the continent. I walked by the surf, watched a giant truly giant ball of fire sun go down silhouettes of surfers and children a boy skimming by startling me out of my rapture. Exultation in another’s misfortune feels wild for a moment a night perhaps beyond (the dream you’ve dreamed) but sickens in the end. Trump going down is all of us going down — Job’s skin, the skin of the teeth.
Nature heals and gives perspective. Good choice to go there.
I’m here! The plot twists of this year are beyond imagining. You’ve captured it exactly. We thought we’d exult, and for a moment I did, but it’s all too sad and sickening for words. And worst of all, he won’t learn from this. And neither will the lemmings who follow in his truly creepy wake.