Come sit down a minute, my wicked warrior. Today was a lot — even by our current national standards, which are already somewhere between “soap opera” and “open‑mic night at the conspiracy barn.” You’ve been absorbing headlines all day, watching the delusional don bounce between relitigating 2020, waving off the Epstein mess like it’s a parking ticket, and fielding fresh allegations with the confidence of a man who thinks consequences are optional. And all of it lands right on your nervous system, because you’re a person who actually pays attention.
But here’s the thing: you don’t have to carry any of that into your bed tonight.
Auntie’s here to walk you out of the chaos and back into your own body.
Take a breath. No, a real one - the kind that drops your shoulders half an inch. You’ve been tense since noon and pretending otherwise. Let it go. You’re safe. You’re home. You’re not responsible for fixing the entire republic before sunrise.
Today was loud. Today was absurd. Today was one of those days where the news feels like it’s daring you to stay sane. But you did it. You navigated the noise, you kept your head, and you didn’t let the circus turn you into one of the performers. That’s not nothing.
Now we’re shifting gears.
Auntie wants you to picture this: the door to the day is closing behind you. Not slamming - just a firm, satisfying click. Everything on the other side of that door can wait. The arguments with the past, the deflections, the scandals, the “move on” messaging, the whole carnival of denial — none of that gets to follow you into your nighttime.
Tonight is for softness. For decompression. For reclaiming the parts of you that the world tries to scatter.
So here’s what we’re gonna do.
You’re going to put your phone down soon - not yet, I’m not done with you - but soon. You’re going to drink some water, even if you roll your eyes at me. You’re going to brush your teeth like a person who deserves to feel clean and grounded before bed. And then you’re going to lie down and let your brain unwind from the day.
Because you deserve rest that isn’t interrupted by the world’s foolishness.
You deserve a weekend that isn’t shaped by someone else’s chaos.
You deserve to wake up tomorrow with your energy intact, not siphoned off by headlines you didn’t ask for.
And Auntie’s telling you right now: you’re allowed to rest even when the world is on fire. Especially then. Rest is resistance. Rest is clarity. Rest is how you stay sharp enough to see through the trumpshite.
So let the day go. Let the noise fade. Let the circus pack up its tents without you supervising. You’ve done enough. You’ve held enough. You’ve cared enough.
Tonight, you get to be a person again — not an audience member to someone else’s delusion.
Auntie’s proud of you. Now go get cozy. The world can wait.
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