American Shithole #50 | Kirstjen Nielsen: Deadeyes Over Dead Kids
“They’ve come all this way, thousands of miles across hostile territory, and we’ve raped them, and murdered them,” I thought.
“And this fucking cunt came to congress to rustle some fucking papers, and fumble some fucking answers.” I seethed.
I am fucking livid — and thankfully I’m not the only one.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?