Trump is an invasive species.
Obviously, he severely impacts my waking days... but he also influences my sleep where I have regular nightmares/anxiety dreams about or featuring him. They're too absurdist or boring to normally recount... but last night's was symbolic: I was trapped in a shopping mall desperately trying to escape when a militaristic security detail aggressively pushed me into Sharper Image. There he sat in a gaudy wheelchair and all he asked was, "Am I the best president ever?"
Threatened by his goons, I panickingly searched for a safe response: "Maybe, if you could find a way to be more compassionate and kind, you might be considered a 'consequential' president. I don't know." But the word "kind" had a a physical affect on him and he started to turn into a gelatinous pile. So, I kept at it, pleading with him to find any ounce of humanity... and he continued to turn into a spineless heap until he slid off his wheelchair -- a slithering mass of goo.
As he seeped over my feet, I was unable to move... and as the Blob started to envelop me, I awoke in a sweat.
He's a monster, a B-movie monster.
