When I'm Sleeping He Just Waits...


 I almost went there, but I just can't do it. It would feel like opening the gates to hell. Truth Social. I usually get a daily fix from Blueskyers who are willing to take a peek, or maybe they're just reposting, but somebody goes in there. I bet it looks like a hoarder's house, full of cockroaches and rats skittering about. The Daily Beast likes to go inside Trump's head. I'll just stay outside and let others go in there. I bet it's dark and smells like farts and Big Macs. Magas lurk in the shadows while Trump, unfiltered, goes crazy. It's no wonder he falls asleep during meetings or greetings. Frankly, I was having a hard time staying awake as well, listening to the guy behind him blabber on as Trump rested his eyes. It's almost funny except for the fact he's in charge of us. As he nodded off, his minions carried on as if nothing odd was happening. 

 It's 11:24 pm right now and I'm pretty sure I see a light on in TS. He's up and at it. I know how Scout Finch felt when she wanted to get a peek of Boo Radley...

Maggie May: "Hey, sir, orange man there. Why cain't y'all go to bed now? Here, take my hand. Ima gonna help you, sir."

Trump: "Slurpslopsloppyslurp..."

Maggie May: "I ain't gonna hurt you, sir. Ima gonna sing you a song. Now close year eyes ...



So, that is what it's like in there. Stay out. Stay away. 

*Image from Freepik 

**Song- Slendys Lullaby 

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