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We are all Donald Trump.
He is America’s orange mirror. We look at him and see our secret selves. Either gleefully or uncomfortably. We see our quickness to anger, our quickness to judge, our quickness to pass blame. Our shame and our pettiness. Our making it all up as we go along.
His myth is attractive. Some of us embrace it. Some of us don’t want to admit it holds appeal. His draw exists because he hasn’t had to work, because things have worked for him, instead.
He’s made it through life on the simple idea of being. Being versus doing. The true American dream.
We want our names to be our power, too. To be recognizable. We would all rather wing it. Would rather react than research. Effort is hard. Effort is boring.
America is lazy. America is tired. Tired of leading the Free World. But not of having the title. Thus, Trump. A leader who doesn’t feel compelled to lead.
Whether we agree or disagree, love or abhor, the orange mirror helps us feel better about being who we are. The man who says it out loud so we don’t have to. The man who says it out loud so we can pounce and scream. Cry and decry. Lie and lie.
We are secretly thankful that he exists. Staring back at us. Familiar.
We are all Donald Trump.
Which is why we, of all people, should know better.
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