The Trump-ocalypse or January 6th

Just a quick post to offer you this limited opportunity to hitch your wagon to my anxiety star! I saw all of this Trump insanity playing out in my neurotic dreams, circa 2016.

It’s my witchy sight. And this stretches back well before covid. But to keep things contemporary, let just say if there has been a phase of covid panic, I had already been there for about 6 weeks.

Phantasmagoria: a sequence of real or imaginary images like those seen in a dream.

It’s an awesome new word I just learned and I think it’s possibly the most accurate description of what’s happening re: The President.

In November, the long held breath of slightly more than half of the country was released in a cheer and people took to the streets!

“Biden is the next president!”

I was thinking, let’s not count our chickens yet. I was thinking, buy food, make sure we all have our medication, and yeah, Clorox and toilet paper, because I was flashing hard with visions of a civil war.

Well, the chickens aren’t yet counted and we’ve got acts of terrorism in D.C. People playing soldiers because they drank the Trump conspiracy Kool-Aid. And they have guns.

I feel a tweak less crazy to see my paranoia actualized on CNN. Less crazy and way, way more anxious.

Published by Cynthia Zorabedian

I have always identified as a writer. My skills were honed early, writing poetry and research papers. Lately, my words have been used largely in passionate letters to the school district in which I advocate for the rights of my autistic children. My humor is my release from the stress of being a special needs parent and I'm finding so much joy in my new blog. I'm a Boston girl who now lives in Southern California with my husband and three sons.

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