42 hours
As I sit writing this, that is how long “until the ball drops”. How it drops, which direction, how hard, and thrown by ‘whom’, all questions up in the air right now.
Lots of speculation, but one thought I see recurring frequently is that current sitrep of DC as a ‘message’. One from the host occupying those halls, that ‘we, the people’ are headed the way of the dinosaur. That our voices and opinions means naught and when they finalize the religious proceeedings at Noon 12021, we are to be removed replaced or just exterminated.
42 hours.
I would like to see Trump be the one to drop the hammer, but hope is not available any longer. Vibes from outside me are saying that if we truly want our inheritance from the founders, we will need to prove it, the same way they did.
Message recieved, but I am just one body, and as contrarian as I am, likely to be targeted by local ‘true believers’ before this shitshow gets steam up. Thats ok too. Just know that if you see my name in the papers, I won’t have started it, but I will have finished it, and I won’t be making the trip alone.
42 hours.
Keep dancing y’all. It aint over yet.
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