GARBAGE

Donald Trump is not a bad president in the way a storm is bad or a recession is bad. He is malicious garbage, a human refuse heap that learned how to talk, discovered applause, and decided the country was a chew toy. He didn’t just lower the bar. He dug a trench, filled it with sewage, and insisted anyone who didn’t jump in with him hated America. Every sentence he touches turns to sludge. Every institution he leans on buckles like rotten floorboards. He is decay with a microphone.

This man took the presidency and used it like a personal crowbar, prying apart reality until nothing fit together anymore. Truth? Optional. Law? Decorative. Violence? Fine, as long as it’s loyal. Cops? Heroes when they’re arresting migrants, disposable trash when they’re bleeding on the Capitol floor. He watched officers get beaten, crushed, tased, dragged, and traumatized, then later handed pardons to the people who did it like party favors at a trash wedding. That’s not leadership. That’s moral landfill management.

He trained his followers to sneer at evidence like it’s a personal insult. Courts rule against him? Corrupt. Juries convict his people? Rigged. Elections don’t go his way? Stolen. Doctors contradict him? Deep State. Journalists document reality? Enemies. He didn’t just lie. He taught lying as a lifestyle, a kind of emotional support animal for people who can’t cope with a world that doesn’t revolve around their grievances.

And the cruelty is the point. Not a bug. Not an accident. The cruelty is the engine. Families separated, officers erased, victims mocked, dead people turned into talking points and then memory-holed when they ruin the vibe. He doesn’t govern. He feeds, sucking attention, loyalty, and oxygen out of the room until everything else suffocates. The country isn’t a nation to him. It’s a mirror, and if the mirror cracks, he blames the glass.

Calling him “garbage” is almost unfair to garbage. Garbage at least admits what it is. Garbage doesn’t demand worship. Garbage doesn’t rewrite history and insist the smell is freedom. Garbage doesn’t need a cult to clap every time it belches out another lie. This man turned the Oval Office into a dump site for ego, resentment, paranoia, and spite, then stood there grinning like he built something.

So no, there’s no forgiveness arc here. No redemption montage. No “let’s heal.” Healing requires truth, and truth is the one thing this walking shitstorm can’t tolerate. What he leaves behind is wreckage: injured bodies, broken trust, poisoned discourse, and a country forced to argue with people who think facts are a liberal conspiracy.

Garbage president.
Garbage human.
Garbage legacy.

And when history finally finishes taking him out, it won’t be dramatic. It won’t be kind. It’ll just be quiet, the way it always is when the trash is finally hauled away and the rest of us are left holding our noses, wondering how the hell we let it pile up this high.

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