Donald Trump throws a tantrum
“We demand that the FBI preserve and retain all records, documents, and information on the now closing DEI office.” With malignant narcissists, not only is there no cure, but their disease is known to get progressively worse and worse with time.
Such is the case with Donald Trump. In truth, I do not expect Donald Trump ever to know a moment’s peace again. Why? There are other things that come along with malignant narcissism, and one of them is this little thing called paranoia.
Already deeply insecure, Donald Trump will never feel confident as he prepares to take office. He will always imagine that people are plotting against him, snickering, laughing at him, giggling in dark spaces he cannot see, sneering at him, mocking him, and being the butt of their persistent jokes.
That might be why Trump is reaching new levels of unhinged behavior. Moron took to truth social on Thursday and asked the FBI to preserve all documents relevant to the closing of the DEI office. Trump accused the FBI of corruption. He sounded exactly like what he is: a mentally shrinking deeply, paranoid, ruined, wannabe dictator whose brain has passed overflow on the paranoia front.
We should get used to this because it will happen again—and again and again and again. This is because of his inability to feel relaxed, happy, or experience, for even one minute, joy. Misery is the hallmark of the ultimate narcissist.
You know, in a way Trump is getting his punishment. Think about it: Imagine never being able to feel joy. Imagine what your life would be like if you couldn’t feel the joy of inhaling the intoxicating scent of a blooming red Rose. Imagine if you couldn’t feel the love of family and friends flowing over you like a fluffy blanket
Imagine if you couldn’t laugh with utter exuberance, at adorable cat videos, or lose yourself in the meditative beauty of the ocean’s roar. He cannot experience any of that. Donald J Trump is like a frozen snowman, a SCOWLING frozen snowman.
He can’t love, he can’t be loved. He can’t laugh. He can’t do anything except rage and rage and rage and rage and rage and rage and rage, and he has to carry that feeling around 24 hours, seven days a week. I’d feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such an evil, craven, sick, pathetic , moronic traitor.
