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Showing posts with label Donald Trump. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Donald Trump. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 4

A man from South Africa told me I had good energy about me, as I was bangin’ Taylor Swift in DTLA.

Then he began talking about how I seemed spiritually well, which I would concede, after I gave a momentous talk on Scientological virtues in this day and age, where many young people have taken on significant ego arbitrariness in their disposition, in the throes of youthful angst and existential crisis, amidst criticism.

The point was that there’s always someone in charge of this technology, at hand, in which we are acquisitioned in (or, in that some ‘choose’ to) speaking out to make our point in this world of magnanimous proportions; although, at times, the proportions might seem to have bent, and in that, we become momentarily larger and more significant than we typically are, as physiognomical entities, as individuals.

All of this had played out over my Herculean task of making it out to mid-Wilshire, where I attempted to head out over to my former childhood credit union branch to open a new account. That didn’t pan out, so I sat out in a lovely nook park, where the locals frequent, for taking their children out, etc. it’s a truly lovely park.

By the way, check out my current view | perspective! A lovely post-rainy day spot to blog it out on a bench in Grand Park, 90012, next to the Children’s Playground.

A vista of beauty, here in the civic center of Downtown Los Angeles, CA.

Anyhow, this whole Taylor Swift - hits - driven good mood has truly done me well. I definitely recommend grabbing an Apple Music subscription and checking out her latest. These songs nearly move me to tears, with their great compositional nuance, performance, and orchestration.


The man who had spoken to me, earlier this afternoon (although it’s now dusk), had wrangled me in to a slight debacle of holiday cheer and charitability, which I’d been careful to try to be fair and even-handed in, in coming out to distribute clothing and food to the needy, in addition to my daily pursuit of blogging and making sure that the pigeons stay fed out here. The difficulty that he had posed unto me was that he was a spiritually-riven man, as well, and he was seeking some financial kindness, perhaps (and that he perhaps saw me as dressed as luxuriant, such that I had portrayed good spiritual energy). He was trying to make it out to San Diego, with no money, with diabetes, no money for a meal, etc. 

Then he asked me what I thought about Donald Trump. He had said, earlier on in our acquaintanceship, that he fancied that I was a better man than Donald Trump. I told him that I felt like Donald Trump is a good man, from what I know about him. (I am, admittedly, a fan of our current President of the United States of America). He commonly gets a hard time about his position and disposition in life, from locals I come across on social media. It was a bit worrisome at this point, that I had encountered this man, as an off-handed opposer of one of my affinities for our public and popular culture | elected political figures. President Trump was simply, at the outset, a well-known and well-trusted and established man in the consideration of our Hollywood | Los Angeles, CA television screen output and upbringing, if it may, such that it be so - that many of us were brought up on some of his network television programming, in former years. 

And then,

He asked me what I had though about Adolf Hitler. A contentious topic. My take on the man is a very personal one, although I had never ventured to study his life and writings, at this point in my life. As a corollary, this theme of contentious figures happen(s[-ed]) to also correspond to Taylor Swift, who is colloquially fashioned as a contemporaneous Lady Hitler. I told him that I had a perhaps strange and uncommon disposition on the figurative Hitler that I could have, perhaps commented on. Perhaps not, though; I feel. (I was an MKULTRA ad hoc acquisition of a couple of weeks, or so, of that I was made to conceive, and live out - the existential corpus of a dictataphone-derived mad man of, in that he was commonly conceived, and derived, of our millennial upbringing, to be a histrionic and narcissistic dictator, in and of himself; although [short story], I ended up coming to see him as an internally and solitarily divergent victim, in that he was, as well, a subject of targeting of programs and intelligence technology that had preceded MKULTRA mind control. 

Although the man was fair enough, in asking me for generosity, I failed him, apologetically. I told him that I’m quite poor, myself. I do truly feel poorly about letting him down, since I do have $5. 

Hmmph 😳. I suppose that that’s what I can say about the situation. I’ll try to make it up in my coming outings to civic center DTLA.

I don’t quite feel as somber and sadly serious as this current photo might portray of me. Here’s a mirror shot.

My Taylor Swift positivity outfit look.

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