Where I’m At In My Head
I’m totally blabberfasted. I kinda think I’m being gaslighted. I want to see the whole report, with exhibits.
For example, if nothing happened at the Trump Tower meeting, why did they lie about it? Just to stay in practice?
What the hell did Mike Flynn give up that got him off spending even one day in jail?
I do not know if you’ve seen it, but I have come across the word kayfabe a few times in recent days when reading about politics in America. I finally looked it up. You should, too, because it works.
When our political status in America is being defined by a term from professional wrestling, we are truly screwed.
I don’t mind being happy or mad or sad or furious or joyful or nervous or damn near anything because I am a grown woman built from the spirit of tough women who withstood the storm on the storm’s terms. But, damn, I hate being confused. Today I am confused and I imagine there’s not going to be an immediate cure.
So, hold on. You bought a ticket and the ride’s not over. (Yeah, I’m talking to myself.)