Thoughts on Donald Trump, Part IV

I should relent, perhaps.

I’m thinking now of what might happen if Trump loses, and de-facto ownership of the right wing passes back to me.

I would… might… end up destroying my girlfriends.

I am much, much more powerful than Trump. Much much more so. And I cannot allow myself to destroy Emma Watson. I just can’t. No way. I don’t care. I love her too much to let that happen.

This power I have… it’s scary. When I feel it, in those times that I allow myself to wade into it deeper than usual, I feel frightened of it’s depth.

So I need to concede and, ugh, continue to allow lesser men, like Trump, to “run” the movement for me. I need to resign myself to decades of pushing them from the sidelines, gently.

I can’t win. I can’t allow my full power to blossom in the way that I know it can. I can’t afford what would happen, then, to Emma and the rest. I can’t allow myself to burn their accomplishments to the ground.

So, I hate to say this, but I feel as though I should support Trump, now.

It doesn’t matter, anyways.

I am well aware that this is a war of attrition. It takes years to siege a castle.

I have time.

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