Against the system that once dared to hold him accountable. Against the citizens who still protest his rise. Against the very idea of restraint.
He is now suing the U.S. government ….demanding $230 million from his own Department of Justice. Not for wrongful conviction. Not for proven harm. But for investigating him. For doing its job.
“We’re sort of suing ourselves,” he admitted.
No correction. No crisis. No constitutional guardrail.
Meanwhile, the White House East Wing …. home to national security operations and the First Lady’s office ….. is being demolished to make way for a 90,000-square-foot luxury ballroom.
In a time of economic fragility, climate whiplash, and institutional decay, the priority is crystal chandeliers. Not hospitals. Not housing. Not healing. But mirrors, columns, and a space to host elite gatherings in the ruins of governance.
And still, somehow, it gets worse.
As tens of thousands took to the streets in the NO KINGS protest movement, Trump posted a deepfake video of himself flying a jet labeled KING TRUMP, dropping feces on demonstrators. The clip was set to Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins … used without permission. A presidential meme ….. designed to degrade dissenters, to mock resistance, to turn protest into punchline.
This wasn’t satire. This was message warfare.
The deepfake wasn’t real. But the intention was. Mock the masses. Flood the discourse with sludge. Make the obscene feel absurd. Make the absurd feel normal.
That is the playbook.
Confuse. Distract. Shock. Then profit from the silence that follows.
This is not new for Trump. But the scale has mutated. He no longer breaks norms. He bulldozes them. Then he builds monuments on top of the rubble. He defunds trust, bankrupts memory, and sells the void back to us as content.
The lawsuits are not legal strategy. They are dominance rituals. Declarations of untouchability. Signals that power now operates beyond consequence.
The ballroom is not architecture. It’s mythology. A shrine to self-interest. A symbol of what happens when spectacle eats the state.
The meme is not a joke. It’s a test. A signal to followers, a humiliation for protestors, a reminder that he can fly above the law …. and drop what he wants.
Because this is not democracy anymore. This is governance by grudge. Leadership by mockery. A republic held hostage by a man who turns every institution into either a weapon or a stage.
And if we don’t call it what it is … a shock strategy fueled by spectacle and vengeance … then we become part of the silence that lets it spread.
Trump isn’t making policy. He’s making content. And in a distracted empire, content always wins.
He didn’t need a coup. He didn’t need a war. He needed a meme. And a ballroom to dance in while the republic burns.
Donald Trump has built his entire political project on hype and delusion … the same ingredients that fuel every economic bubble. But belief cannot defy reality forever. When cruelty replaces competence and lies replace truth, collapse follows.
Today is World Mental Health Day. The feeds are full of pastel posts reminding us to “check in on your friends” and “end the stigma.” It’s beautiful. It’s necessary. But it also feels incomplete.
Because every year, while citizens talk about self-care, the people running our countries remain the least self-aware among us. They govern billions without ever being asked the simplest therapeutic question: “How are you, really?”
Imagine if therapy were a prerequisite for public office. Imagine if emotional regulation were tested as strictly as campaign funding. Half of geopolitics might evaporate overnight.
We keep treating mental health as an individual issue, meditate, journal, breathe,while ignoring the fact that unhealed leaders make wounded nations. Their childhood traumas become our policies. Their unchecked egos become our inflation, our wars, our polarization.
We screen pilots before we let them fly a plane, but we hand nuclear codes to people who clearly haven’t processed their fathers.
That line shouldn’t feel funny. It should feel terrifying.
What if every G7 summit began with group therapy instead of photo ops? What if debates required empathy training instead of sound bites? What if “national security” included psychological maturity?
Because here’s the quiet truth: The world doesn’t need more leaders with confidence. It needs leaders with conscience. Therapy doesn’t make you soft; it makes you safe to follow.
So while we celebrate mental health today, maybe we should widen the circle. Healing can’t stop at citizens it has to reach the cabinets, parliaments, and palaces too.
Maybe the next revolution won’t be political at all. Maybe it’ll start on a therapist’s couch.
They told you freedom meant choice. But only between two cages.
They told you success meant working harder. But only so someone richer could rest.
They told you happiness could be bought — right after they made sure you could never afford it.
Now they have AI systems in place to replace the most of us
This isn’t an economy. It’s a hypnosis. And every day, billions wake up, scroll through their feeds, and whisper the same prayer: “Maybe tomorrow it’ll all make sense.”
It won’t until you see the lies for what they are
Lie 1: “Hard Work Pays Off.”
That’s not a promise , it’s a pacifier.
If effort equaled reward, single mothers would be billionaires. The truth? Hard work without ownership is servitude dressed as virtue. You’re not climbing a ladder; you’re powering a machine. And the harder you run, the quieter you become, too tired to question why the goalpost keeps moving.
Lie 2: “You’re Free to Choose.”
Free to choose between brands, not systems. Between Pepsi and Coke, left and right, burnout or bankruptcy.
Freedom under capitalism is a beautifully curated illusion, the cage got Wi-Fi and streaming subscriptions, but it’s still a cage. True freedom isn’t the ability to consume. It’s the ability to opt out. And that option’s been priced out of reach.
Lie 3: “If You’re Poor, You’re Lazy.”
They call it a meritocracy. But the children of privilege start the race at the finish line.
Poverty isn’t proof of failure; it’s proof of a system that confuses wealth with worth. The rich call their luck “discipline” and everyone else’s exhaustion “weakness.” Capitalism moralized luck, then shamed anyone who didn’t have it.
Lie 4: “The Market Rewards Merit.”
No, the market rewards manipulation.
It rewards whoever can turn human attention into profit , not whoever creates meaning, beauty, or healing. Teachers, nurses, artists, caregivers, the backbone of civilization, are paid just enough to survive, never enough to rest. Because rest breeds reflection, and reflection breeds revolt.
Lie 5: “Debt Is Normal.”
Debt is not normal. It’s engineered obedience.
The modern serf doesn’t live in a castle; he lives in an apartment he doesn’t own, paying for an education that promised freedom but delivered bondage. Interest isn’t just financial, it’s existential. It keeps you from imagining a life beyond repayment.
Lie 6: “We Can All Be Rich.”
That’s mathematically impossible, and morally convenient.
If everyone could be rich, who’d clean the yachts, pack the warehouses, or code the apps that track our every move? Capitalism sells universality, but runs on scarcity. It’s a pyramid pretending to be a ladder, and every motivational poster is just another layer of paint.
Lie 7: “Capitalism Is the Only Way.”
Every empire says it’s eternal right before it collapses.
Capitalism isn’t nature.. it’s just another story. And stories can be rewritten. We can design economies that reward care, not extraction. Collaboration, not competition. Regeneration, not ruin.
But first , we must dare to imagine beyond the algorithm.
The Wake-Up Call
You were never broken. You were simply born into a system that profits from your confusion.
Your exhaustion is not personal failure, it’s the residue of serving a machine that eats attention and spits out anxiety.
Rebellion doesn’t start with protest. It starts with awareness.
Stop believing the lies. Start reclaiming your life.
Because the most radical act left in a capitalist world is to remember what it means to be human.
What replaces capitalism won’t be communism or chaos — it’ll be something older and wiser. A networked commons where creation circulates instead of concentrates. Where value flows, not hoards. Where work serves life, not the reverse.
It won’t come from governments or billionaires. It’ll rise probably from communities from those who refuse to play the game, outgrow of it and start writing their own rules.
