FIRE. TRUMP.

The theme that was swirling around my head this morning was all about empathy. Gulping my kickstart coffee as I always do, like I’m lost in the desert and sucking out the very last drop of water from my canteen, I was already lost in thought about my own capacity for compassion.

The fact is the entire universe, with all its vast mysteries, has to be filtered and deciphered by my own teeny weeny brain, so by day’s end the best that I can accomplish is equal to the same amount of tasks that your average house cat can get through. It’s basically all yarn ball juggling, sleeping in that sliver of single ray sunlight, eating out of a can, visiting the litter box and then purring in front of the TV set.

To start our day, every morning we enter our own personal emotional voting booth and select what we can and cannot deal with, based on that moment’s ability to feel.

If I turn on the news and hear Trump’s latest hydrant burst of selfish stupidity, every single hair on my body stands up as they’ve all been called up to defend me, like an army of follicles and I spend the next few hours in an imaginary cage match with him, beating him to a bloody, and might I add quite satisfying, pulp. Sadly that is just pulp fiction because honestly, I do not wish him well.

This morning, for example, President of More-and-More-a-logo, rather than send love and support to those in California who are losing both homes and lives to the nightmare historic fire, tweet-blamed those in charge for their incompetence. Hold on. I have to make a call. “Hello, Satan? Yes, I would like to make a reservation for Thanksgiving? Yes, The Donald Trump family?” Let’s not forget that Trump this week self-congratulated himself for being a “moral leader.” This from a man who committed a felony paying off a porn star. And thus the real stars are aligned.

The thing is this kind of incomprehensible level of narcissism affects us deeply and quickly. It’s just plain exhausting and by 8AM my level of caring has been completely tapped out like an iPhone battery and all that’s left is anger, resentment, and bitterness.

By then I have spent hours screaming at the TV like I’m the captain of a rowing team and have expelled every curse word I know through my handheld megaphone.

The only satisfaction that I have been able to feel is the fact that the after eight fuck you healthcare years the real grown-ups of DC, the Democrats, are landing on Normandy Beach, ready for D(onald) Day.

Try as he may seem to appear unbothered by all this, I have noticed, especially over the last few weeks, how Trump’s spine has been cracking like Bonomos Turkish Taffy, after being slammed into the cement to create edible child-sized pieces.

He’s called women (including African Americans) racists, losers and stupid. He called Jim Acosta a terrible person and his stellar choice, direct from the Goon squad, of Matt Whitaker, to become acting AG is as transparent as Trump’s bald spot from outer space. One day he said on national TV, “I know Matt Whitaker and he’s a great guy!” And just yesterday he said, “I don’t know Matt Whitaker. I never met him.”

You know what Trump is obsessed with golf?

Because he has been in pursuit of a little hole for his entire life which he can only fill by cheating. His handicap is himself.

This year’s fashion statement is about to become checks and balances, something that the Trumps like them, who were born to ruin, have ducked and evaded for their entire lives.

The biggest joke is that Trump, is in fact, the world’s worst liar because whatever he accuses someone of being, is exactly how he feels about himself.

The truth, with great historic precedent which is well documented, is that Trump has always been o spectacular loser. He has accomplished nothing in his life. Every single business that he has touched has collapsed into debt. Until his father died, he was bailed out and even while Fred was on his deathbed, Trump tried to have the will rewritten to his advantage. It was all fail. Safe. Loser. No bank in America would deal with him, which is why he found his way to the golden shower stalls of the Soviet Union.

Now, l began this piece thinking about my own capacity to feel and look where this has taken me. Look what I focus and harp on.

And it’s only 7:40AM.

The fact that Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming can only mean one thing: a nauseating family portrait of the Trump opening presents full of Saudi and Soviet money, which they use as fire tinder...while in the background Rome and California burn. The White House is Ground Nero.

All this makes us short-tempered with each other and quick to judge.

Let’s get personal.

Just the other day I wrote a small joke that was meant to show my absolute adoration for Maxine Waters and to all-powerful women restrained and a woman comedy writer in Los Angeles, attacked me on Facebook for it, based on her own, and might I add, staggeringly wrong, misinterpretation of it.

There was no dialogue with me. No seeking out the intention behind what I wrote. It was an immediate condemnation which included a lecture on how to write comedy. Despite my vast body of work which has included over 600 Huffington Posts where I almost daily and loudly advocate for women’s rights, I was reduced to a stereotype that if you did not know me, could do me great harm.

With nothing but judgment, the match was thrown on the fire and just like the flames were out of control. Kind of symbolic given that most California fires are started by people with grudges.

I might add, that dozens of women who got the joke, went on to sing my praises. But my accuser never saw them. She was too busy doing a victory dance.

This has to stop. This over-reaction to things is what makes sane people do and say regrettable things and worse, it makes insane people do insane things.

And to me, it all comes down to Trump who every single day puts out our hearts like the toe tip of a shoe ending the life of a burning cigarette butt.

We are so mistreated, so insulted, so exhausted by this kind of treatment that we are in many ways becoming just like him.

We are short-fused and full of rage. Our ability to make sensible decisions has been preempted by our need to destroy anyone who doesn’t act or think just like us.

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Both women and men will get nowhere from all this. Anyone who has been in a dialogue-free marriage will get this. We are Tinder-swipe-rejecting each other at the speed of NO and all we are getting is a wicked case of Tindernitis.

The key difference between that comedy writer and me is that I forgive her. I don’t need to be defensive or feel the need to fire back. I didn’t even mention her name. Why would I? Why victimize a victim? I send her love and respect.

I think that we all have to break out of our own individual Pentagons and find our way back to a world of kindness, decency, and respect. We have to figure out a way to win on offense and not defense.

And that begins by adopting a new policy of tolerance.

We have to stop arguing with people in an effort to show how right we are and instead do our own due diligence by starting our each and every day with a kind of emotional inventory.

The fact is we are all addicted to all things Trump and living like we’ve all been sequestered in some kind of internment camp where all the prisoner are turning against each other.

Here is how it will all go down. Trump will be destroyed because the baby has a gun and because skilled and patriotic people like Republican, decorated war hero, Bob Mueller, Adam Schiff, Jerry Nadler, Nancy Pelosi, and Maxine Waters are going to fucking lower the boom on his fat, selfish gelatinous ass.

In two months, it’s gonna start raining subpoenas like confetti and Trump Jr. indictments.

Until then I ask you to do one thing.

Try acting like an actual Christian, Muslim or Jew.

Not the version that you have become.