Donald Trump’s victory: “There is a God!”
Photo credit: Reuters
The Trump-Harris score of 267-214 sends the Democratic candidate where she belongs, in ignorance. More categorically, it was not possible. The Senate returns to Republicans after four years. The House of Representatives is still in the balance. The swing states are returning America to the condition of plenty “Great Again.” In last night’s prayer, I whispered to myself, “Lord, don’t leave us!” And he did not leave us prey to the neo-Marxists, to the pagan elevators, to the destroyed ideologically-minded, to those without nation, country, and God. From a bitter corner of the world, I share the joy with the great GOP family of Donald Trump. Shot, outraged, slandered, put on the pole of infamy, dragged into black trials, threatened with prison, he believed in the power of his winning team (Elon Musk made the investment of his life, n.a.). Along with his victory, the merciless thread of the criminal post-truth goes.
Photo credit: AFP
As early as 2015, I was among the first Trump supporters in the world. I felt in his gaze the illumination of the spirit. Light is more than just a glimmer. Only those pleased by God have a halo of happiness, which initiates see as an aura. Much to the disdain of my friends, I was wearing a “Make America Great Again” cap. They treated me like a lunatic. Colleagues from the Romanian television stations were humming and laughing at me. I knew they were on a mission from the station. The majority did not perceive the danger of the expansion of the satanist left. I linked myself to his lucky star by a thread of light, which I baptized in secret, I believe. It was the shortest way to God. I was carefully weaving the threads of the cake, like the Romanian national poet, George Coșbuc, the yarn of victory. Little did I realize at the time that I had lit a small fire in a world-forgotten corner that, through mirroring, turned into a planetary red-burner. How few we were and how many we have left today, I still laugh in my beard today. The success achieved through the work of others is also sweet for those who are late, who got caught up in the chorus of joy out of opportunism.
In our cold world, red remains the communist symbol, unlike in America. I belong to the happiest generation in the history of my nation. I have been through three regimes: Communist, Capitalist, and Globalist, unscathed. Like a great thinker, a bit too left-wing for my taste, I stepped away from the snapshots for the moment so I could see the whole. I spotted a tycoon red in the cheeks. He held the lightning bolt tightly in both hands, not burning it in his palms. Watchful of everything moving across the ocean, vigilant, I deftly exposed every slippage of the brave new world of progress, which I branded as neo-Marxist. Those raised in the sealed Londons and blessed by God by birth with American citizenship, especially those belonging to Generation Z, have allowed themselves to be seduced by the maphistophelian force of hell’s ideology. What were the Democrats until yesterday, but Lucifer’s emissaries wielding the shadows in Plato’s new caves? Accused of sexism, Donald Trump elected two women, of great commitment and vitality, from Obama’s plan to tame the planet and de-Christianize the world with the forceps of the apocalypse. He broke Kamala at the knees, as they say in the slums of the city of the Romanian revolution, Timișoara.
