The Dream
As told by Robert Dugger, 46:
“I hate Donald Trump. I’ve always hated him. I find there to be absolutely nothing appealing about him. Not a thing. He’s a monster. A lizard monster. This has always been my disposition toward him.
In my dream I was an invisible observer of him. Upon advice gleaned from an old episode of Oprah, Trump had started to Journal in an effort to explore his thoughts and feelings regarding impeachment, the Syrian debacle, Putin and all the other catastrophes that have followed in his wake. He sat there at his desk about to write a Gratitude Entry, and I couldn’t wait to read it, imaging his entry to be childish, noxious and shallow. I was almost feeling giddy, looking forward to telling friends about it later on.
THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR TODAY:
And then he wrote, “A mote of dust caught in the sunlight falling through the window.”
The words appearing in beautiful, attentive script.
I did not want this to be true. I could not believe it was true.
And then I woke up, wanting to excise whatever part of me had generated sympathy for this man. I tried to shower it off, but it lingered like smoke. I walked though my day astonished and uncertain, which I have come to understand, is not such a bad way to live your days.”
